Sixty-five, But Who’s Counting (Ch 3)
"Tate rides into the setting sun."
“Tate,” I corrected her.Barb crab walked up the bed and rested her head on my chest. She teased what minimal hair I had. “Tate, Clint; who cares?” She uttered.Clearly, I was just a big cock with a body attached.Barb licked...