Desi AMATEUR Home-Made Sex

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I noticed a few other guys followed us outside and were watching. I waived them over."Piss on me please" I said.I closed my eyes and opened my mouth; I felt warm piss hitting me from every direction. I swallowed as much as I could. It was salty, bitter, and yet refreshing at the same time. When they were done, they went inside. Except for the gorgeous black man, again he helped me up. I got my skirt and top out of my purse he lent me a hand getting dressed."Thank you." I said to him."It was a pleasure to help." He said.I stumbled back to my car exhausted, and drove home, and snuck back into the house. I took one last look at my self in the mirror before showering off. I looked like a beat up crack whore who had a rough night.I had to piss, so I figured what the hell, and grabbed a glass. I stood in the bathtub and pissed into the glass. As I was peeing, I realized that I needed to shit. I admired the golden glass of pee for a moment, and then I squatted down in the tub and let a soft. She was maybe two orthree years younger than I was. Finally it was time to part; I kissedher tenderly and she stood there waving goodbye to me.My eyes opened to the morning sun. In early summer, it came through theslatted blinds well before I was ready for it. Moaning and grumbling, Itossed off the blankets and arose. Sleepily, I pulled the light cottonnightgown over my head and stood there nude, looking into the fulllength mirror in my room.There she was, the girl from my dream, red hair, green eyes and all. Sheseemed younger than I but was obviously beginning to "grow into herself"as they say. Her body was sleek and trim, her breasts on the small sidebut perfect, her bikini area natural and virginal. I waved; she wavedback, the same wave I had seen in my dream."Buh-bye, Butch", she whispered quietly.I stumbled into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Then I checked myface for any new growth of beard. I did find a couple strays hairs; notmuch, and I razored them off easily. I.
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The barrels were rifled and it fired a huge brass cartridge that Junior had to reload himself. He had picked up the gun and two dozen cartridges at a farm auction near Nashville. A local blacksmith had made a mold for him to pour his own rounds, and by saving his brass he could reload his own rounds. He also had a large collection of antique, and replica guns, along with enough hand guns to make the James and Younger gangs jealous. As he moved around the kitchen getting something to eat he thought about what the sheriff had said. His place in Montana, a 2000 acre ranch nestled in a small valley backed up against the mountains, would be an ideal place to ride out the coming storm. But it was a long trip, and he had family and friends here. His home made an excellent place to defend, and Junior had no doubt if he stayed, he would have to defend it. As people fled the east coast, and food supplies began to run low, some would seek to prey on others. Once word got out that he had.

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