The Mojave did not broil in March. Indeed, conditions were such that an inversion sealed cool and fog against the desert floor. Endless verdancy asid..., the Central Valley held little appeal for Cuniff. He wasn’t an Aggie and agriculture bored him. Besides, he’d seen more than his fill of companeros in Eloy, a town astride the Interstate between Tucson and Phoenix. Whether the crop cotton, pistachios or now in California, vegetables, he knew the back-breaking, hand-wrenching toil hard yet badly. Or at least we had a prettygood deal, in that he let me use a room for free all in exchange for agood, long blow job.He was a dirty fucker, though. He talked a lot. I didn't mind.He sat in his desk chair, turned to the side. I kneeled next to his desk,took his cock inside."These boys... they treat you good?" Mmmmmhmmmm." I remember how good that felt, when a bitch would makenoises with my cock in her mouth."Ahhhh... and they, did they fuck you in the pussy?" Mmmmmmmmmhmmmmmmm..." That was meant. More

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