He’d have no immunity to just about anything now.Maybe I’m worrying unnecessarily, Hugo hasn’t had a sick day since he’s been here. And I’ve...never heard that the disease thing with the native Americans was a two-way street; I mean, Amerinds had to have had their own bugs, but they didn’t seem to bother the Europeans. So maybe it was just a luck-of-the-draw thing and everybody’s immune systems covered most of even unfamiliar diseases.Still, aside from the one trip to town, Hugo hasn’t been. His cock felt natural there, even though I couldn’t breathe until he withdrew it from my throat. Which he promptly did and I drew in another breath, then he drove back into my throat and held it a while as I rubbed my tongue on the bottom of his strange cock. Then he pulled back and I caught another breath.Before pushing back in he offered. “Using your tongue on my cock is great so keep doing that, but also, when I get my cock in your throat keep swallowing. The muscles in your throat act kind. I went in search of more explicit pictures."Yes, that's it," I mumbled to myself as images of mom's double fucking a young lad filled my screen.I must have saved thirty pictures of her in various sexual positions getting fucked wildly by the young hunk and figured these just might do the trick.I know for a fact they did for me because that night I had the wickedest dream yet about fucking Mom, and I woke up with my bed soaked from sweat and cum all over the sheets. Now I just hoped they would. “An old friend of mine from college,” I answered casually. “Guy named Simon Barnett.” I handed him the last bolt and he motioned me to get down off the ladder. He walked away from me and I followed. He motioned me to a chair beside his desk and fell heavily into his own.“I didn’t catch your name,” he said.“Hamar,” I answered. “Dag Hamar.” All right, I admit. It’s not quite as dramatic as “Bond, James Bond.”“Yes, Mr. Hamar, and Swedes don’t open Thai restaurants,” he said bluntly. “Why don’t you.
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