Jones shouted “You do not taste my honey until I tell you to, today you just get an opportunity to smell my cunt, smell it and remember what my puss... smells like at the end of the day. Do you smell my sweat, and my piss and my pussy juices?”.” Yes, yes I do” I responded shyly still wincing in pain and with my response she pushed me away. After pushing me away, Mrs. Jones stooped down and bounced on her thighs ever so slightly, this move seemed to release her vaginal fluids and a few drops. Or that I had an encounter with a transvestite not far from there, or that I had spent a very hot night in the Chicago YMCA. As we passed through Winslow, Arizona he announced that they were going to stop in Flagstaff and call it a day. He asked if I had enough money to pay for a hotel room. I said that I did (and in fact I did) and it would be really nice to be able to take a shower and sleep in a bed instead of a car seat like I had two of the three nights I’d been out there. But then as we. More

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