The point is: Camp coffee was as good as any I could find in the Southland."What'll it be, Miss?" I inquired in an overly genteel manner as we stopped... at the coffee station."Caramel Macchiato, per favore," Marie replied in a decent Italian accent."Molto buon, signorina," I replied with a smile and began whipping up her drink.She watched my actions for a moment before commenting, "You're starting to get good at that." Practice, practice. I drank enough of these sorts of things every day from the. Cooky had short black hair and had a fine muscular physique. Manning strolled around in her now infamous tracksuit bottoms and top. "Here Cooky" she called out "fancy a net I've just pinged Nasser Cobain on helmet"Cooky could never resist Manning and agreed, he donned his pads and helmet picked up his bat and made his way towards the set of stumps at the end of the net. Manning took a number of steps back and began to charge in. She bowled three at half pace, purposely so that Cooky would think. I turned and leaned in for a kiss with Clayton. I exchanged the cum in my mouth, and gave half to him. Jesse has already popped in a third finger by now, and my ass is hungry for his hot boner.Mitch moved and began stroking Clayton, and Jesse turned me onto my back. He lifted up my knees and placed them on his shoulders. He pinned both my arms up with his and whispered in my ear "Do you want my cock?"Just then he pushed hard into me, all his cock at once and I grit my teeth. It felt like his. ?Well, I don’t say anything, for I know that Amy Sue’s just fucking with their minds hoping that they will let us go. After all, we both know that we aren’t about to give up fucking guys anytime soon. A fake dick is better than nothing. But, it’s not better than the real thing. But, her efforts are in vain. For, we are about to begin the next chapter in our lives – as Lesbonian sex slaves.Chapter ThreeJust as the two dyke cops finish banging our boxes, along comes this big flat-bed semi-truck..