Her black bush still glistened with bath water was the first thing I noticed. Next thing I know my face is buried so deep inside her I begin to breath...the same rarified air that filled my lungs years before. I was back inside not knowing what I had missed. "Are you ok? What is wrong with you?" Brought me back unable to move because between my hips a tent was pitched in my flannel pajamas.Or the time we took a hike in the park and a tick crawled up her leg and buried its head between her ass. I put the beer in a tub of ice and as I finished the first bottle I started getting a slight smile on my face. By the time I'd consumed about four or so the smile had turned into a grin then a full fledged shit-eatin' grin. I felt really relaxed sitting there in the now dark night for the first time in months. The still warm fall evening and the high-octane beer were working well together.This was all about six months or so ago and I kept going to The Stampede every three or four weeks or so. More

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