“Where you goin fag—clean up ur mess” I bark at him. The stink was loud and powerful. Indian porn The first dump lasted a few seconds—damm, I thought, what all did I eat yesterday ?. Stripping out of my moto pants, I crash face down onto my sleeping bag, exposing my hairy ass to the slight breeze coming through the tent. Those that rode yesterday would be pretty worn out, and would most likely sleep late. There wasn’t any door at the entrance to the mens house—just a big opening. With his magical tongue, and working up his spit he cleans my dick of his ass slime, jizz, and snot to a squeaky clean. Thank God for that—it was already about 80 degrees. As the sound of 4-wheelers begin to come alive, I finally doze off. It was only about 5:00 AM. Upon entering I see the bath house is empty. Groaning yet more, I continue to drive my meat into Riley’s throat. I throw my head back so hard—hitting the wall I let out an ‘ahhh’ myself. Awesome, I think to myself. Munching down quickly, I assign Blankenship as co-ordinater for the day, and Kelso and me finally enter our tent.
