Just above the tallest of the bushes she saw a head of tangled brown hair. Carl! She breathed a sigh of relief that she had eluded him.If he found her...out here there was no telling what he would do. The least of her worries was that he might make her tell him where she hid her money. Unconsciously her hand moved to press against the vee between her legs as she remembered the last time Carl had messed with her. She had bled and her 'pussy' (as Carl had called it) had been sore for a long time.. Their worship of the lowest common denominator had evolved into a burgeoning political agenda that found a home in one of the political parties during the seventies. Cocheta often said that maybe the Indians still had a chance to win if the whites continued to hamstring themselves.Cocheta knew that he couldn't win the war with the white-eyes but he could win some of the little battles, like the one with these Hippy wannabes. Cocheta smiled as he tweaked the woman's back muscles and she arched. More

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