The Shaman? How? It's a day's march to the home village. Why?Shaven headed, covered in a red gold cloth wrapped in the traditional manner, sandal shod... without a speck of dust on him, the Shaman glared at the husband and wife for two minutes; he turned to Dama,"Woman! Obey your husband."The females exploded into movement, gathering their bundles and climbing into the shuttle so quickly the driver was left sitting on the top of the shuttle from whence he had been observing events and calculating. "It's okay, looks like he's doing the bottom ones first," Matthew commentated as, down below, Joe the Shammy stopped five rungs up and the lower panes of glass began to squeak under the sponge and soapy water."Matthew, please," she pleaded as his salty cum began to trickle down onto her tongue."Damn, it's stuck," he replied, tugging earnestly at the drawstring.As he fought in vain, Connie screamed at him to close it, yanking so hard at the bed that she threatened to snap her wrists. Yet it was. More

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