Next day Andy repeated the same thing but this time he put his hand under my tshirt and started to rub my back then front while holding me real close ...here I can feel his hot breathing in to my ears. I really enjoy holding his manhood while he was exploring my flat chest, then his hand moved to my thigh and started to move upward through my little skirt. I was wearing legins so he just rub my thighs around crouch area while he ask me to move my hand up and down on his cock. Then his hand came. Each gift that he made was more of him that he was letting go of. His Great grandfather's bow, his father's special process for making bowstrings and nock glue for the arrows. Knives and points that he had made from flint, and from metal, along his life's journey. He seldom went to the hunter's fire and told the stories of his father, Broken Stick or of the hunter's whose stories he'd been entrusted to tell. So few remembered, and those that did were too busy trying to find someone to tell. More

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