"Pardon?" Clint said, hoping to dissuade the teen that he'd found the man he was hunting."I said — you'd be Clint Hendershot, the man who kilt my Pa... on a stage outta Cheyenne twelve years ago. The man who kilt my Paw for two bits an' a pair of boots. The man I come to kill, so my Paw can rest in peace."Slowly raising his hands, one holding a wooden pail filled with ears of corn, Clint responded, "You've got me confused with somebody else, Mister. My name's William Westwood." You're a damn. Lauren pulled him towards her, his cock now raging against her stomach. To her amazement, the length of his erection and his physical height caused the top of his cock to nestle against the firm, graceful curve of her breast. She gripped his buttocks, pulling him close as she looked up dreamily into his eyes. Her lips parted as he leaned down, craning his neck to kiss her forehead. She could feel tiny drips from her bikini running down her leg, warm, caressing.She exhaled, delighted at his. More

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