”“How many of them are there?” I looked to Joe again for the answer.“There are sixteen, seventeen counting me. Two of the squaws belong to me....Three of the kids do too. Maybe more, I don’t know. There are five Braves. Two are braves for the squaws that I associate with. The rest are related to my dead squaw I used for my wife for several years.”Rita interjected, “Chance, you were with Joe. Did you help increase the number of papooses?”“No, Rita, I will stick with my own kind. I was three days. There was one. A bit of cum I missed.“Oh, hi,” the strained, bubbly voice of Mrs. Teller said from behind me.I jumped, spun, and saw the MILF wearing a pair of white shorts and a pink baby doll t-shirt standing at the hallway leading back to the kitchen. She looked so radiant, her blonde curls falling about her head, her legs so tanned and lithe, contrasting with her white shorts. And her breasts ... They filled out that t-shirt.My pussy grew hot, wet. But no cock sprouted.“Hi, Mrs. Teller,” I. More

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