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A lover to pass the time around the campfire and drag sub-moon predators) and a red foreign car, a car.
Urban arrived.
From the open window heels stick out.
Did not fit, or what? or so drunk that they could not put up a tent? Vaughn lying in a mess tent, there is a table with two folding chairs.
The enterprising gopher makes bread, dropping bottles.
Passing by, fishing awaits me.
Vaughn fish like splashing.
Only the edge of the eye catches how the heels twitch.
Rhythmically.
With nothing you will not confuse.
And the main machine is not so big, something like a minivan.
And how fit? Eh.
After scratching my groin (two weeks without sex in this damn village) I pass by.
And why envy? I have now fishing will be.
He walked about ten steps, as if there was a romp behind his back.

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He turned, looking as the legs disappeared in the window and slammed the door.
A nude woman, fighting for the sheets, jumps out of the car.
At first I see the ass, (quite appetizing, elastic.
Nothing, in a week all backs will seem appetizing.
Probably so bestiality appears.
People in nature from oxygen and sexual hunger go crazy).
A woman, having won sheets in the wilds, jumps out onto the grass.
As with Natasha half the night, so nothing, but as I ask in the morning, so you can not ?! Impotent! When I stiffen, I stand laughing, looking like a young woman painted under a blonde and wrapped in a sheet and destroying the virginal silence of the lost nature.
It turns out that there are three of them in the cabin.
And the man, judging by the battery of bottles on the table, which was destroyed by the gopher, cannot cope with everything during the night.

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Well, while you get to the city, while you take a shower with a tent, the sun still breaks with sleep along with the first alcohol.
After scratching my groin for the second time, I grunted, I turned and went further.
I have fish splashing there, and I’m losing time here.
Just thinking after this blonde blonde is not about fishing.
Damn, it became uncomfortable to go.
So, catch your breath and go on.
I turn to the bank, wandering among the trees, breaking through to the edge.
It seems like a good place for fishing rods.
The backwater is so quiet, the mist over the water, the sun will soon rise above the trees.
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