Once that was done he stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself. He picked up the bolt croppers and carefully got one blade alongside the ha...p of the lock on his collar. ‘Don’t cut you own throat,’ he muttered as he closed the blades. Once he had a solid grip he squeezed the handles and a moment later there was a satisfying clunk as the lock fell on the floor. He undid the collar and placed it on the dressing table in front of him. ‘What was she thinking?’ he said. ‘Was she trying to. My mother said I was protected by the bear totem. From then on, everyone called me Oso.’ Dillon chuckled at the story. ‘Do your folks live nearby?’ Again Oso hung his head before answering. ‘My parents were killed in a raid by the Apache on our small ranch. That’s when I got this,’ he said pointing to the scar on his face. ‘Senor Edwards was riding by the ranch and saw the smoke from the burning house. When he rode into our yard, he found me digging graves for my mother and father. I was ten.’. I let out a fake moan to please him. He continued to push until he was completely inside me. ‘Oh my God, Oliver, you’re huge!’ I lied. He felt…small, in a way he never had before. I was thoroughly disappointed at how thin and short his little dick was in comparison to Mason’s. Mason… As Oliver began thrusting in and out of me, I imagined that he was Mason. When I looked at his face, I pictured Mason instead, with his green eyes and long eyelashes. I pictured how sharp his jawline was, and how. The Indians had concealed themselves so skillfully that none of the guards, not even Abigail, had seen them until they started shooting their arrows. The guards, who were all on horseback, charged at the Navajoes and managed to break up their prepared position. The .44 caliber Dragoon Colt was a very effective weapon in this sort of engagement. Even though it was difficult to score a hit while riding at full speed, the noise and smoke was so intimidating that the Indians broke and ran. They.
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I slammed the door on the way in and sat at my desk, still pissed. ‘What the hell’s the matter now, Clay?’ asked Dave, my partner for the last 4
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