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“You’ve got problems, Caleb.” It was not a question.“Sally been talking to you?” I said, and that was not really a question either.“Well, she says she can’t talk to you.”I thought about that.“Yes, Colette,” I said flatly, “that’s true. I’ve tried to get her to explain, but she won’t or can’t.”“Can’t,” she replied. “If it’s any help, she said it’s like an invisible hand stopping her.”“Not much help that,” I said morosely, remembering the invisible hand stopping her from coming home. If she was. I assumed that was because I’d caused us to get a late start. I realized how he’d used the hour I’d cost us when we stopped for lunch. The John Deere had a cover over the driver, part of the roll bar, and he’d welded a mesh sort of tray to one side of that, which sat over the fender. He had a little cooler and thermos strapped to that with stretchy rubber bungee cords. While I’d been dreaming, he’d made sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs and cut up celery and carrots. There was lemonade in the. She was already soclose, and she couldn’t stand for him to stop. Randydidn’t plan on going anywhere however, and after only afew short minutes of his oral ministrations, Trish feltthe first spasms of her orgasm coming on like a freighttrain. Randy felt it too, and took the opportunity toslip first one, and then two fingers from her puss intothe little rosebud of her anus.“You nasty little fucker,” Trisha gasped as she began toslide down from her climax.Redoubling his. He pushed gently into me, taking my mind from the other hands that rubbed and stroked the thick oil over me. More oil was gathered and pressed into my anus by that finger rubbing it gently but firmly until I felt slick and open. I tried to hold still, even when I could feel it deep inside of me, plunging and wriggling where I had never allowed another to go. But it was almost impossible. My muscles squeezed, trying to repel this invader, my hips jerked and tried to pull away. As punishment, I.
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