This way, it made very little difference whether the man had a musket or a rifle. It was the skill of the rider and not the nature of the weapon that ...determined the quality of the kill. One shot was all they got, so it had to be right.The remaining buffalo ran off and, again, the women moved in to do their job. That night, Cletus conceded to one and all that their method of hunting required the most skill, but his method produced the most meat with the least amount of work. They all agreed, but. I could hear and feel her moisture as it leaked onto my hand. She was beginning to lose herself and I had to grasp the handcuffs tighter to keep control.Her pussy lips started to swell and gain a redness, and I’m sure the way she was squirming the spanking on her pussy was taking a toll on her. Slapping her wet pussy and tongue fucking her ass was exactly where I wanted to be.Slowly making that little slut mine. Opening my new toy up like a present for my cock. As she began mumbling. "Are you crazy?" Tracy asked with a laugh. "What are you doing out in this?" I didn't think it would be this bad. That will teach me not to listen to my mother." He held up a wrapped package, one side of which had a quarter of an inch of wind-blasted snow plastered to it. "I wanted to thank you." For what?" Tracy asked as he handed her the package, which had a good deal of weight to it. "You're the one that walked into a burning building." I got yelled at for it, too. For that, and for doing it. Before he raised his head to check he knew the cat - the real cat, not the woman cat which had chased him the night before – was circling him slowly licking its lips. On sensing him wake though it paused and seconds later there came again the terrible human like scream and beneath this a staccato rhythm of sharp snaps. Though his head ached fiercely, the man managed to lift it to see the b**st was somehow changing; not fluidly or with ease, but with an angry, spastic awkwardness. The.