2023-11-02 at 4:54 PM UTC
I grew up in red dirt country, heard. Beefa TExas on my belt buckle and I dipped spit.
My parents were very busy running the Ranch as well as a very successful Parrot-Grotto. Honest folk not afraid of dirt or sweat or tomatoes or parrots
My mom put me out to pasture during picking season. I worked along aside the Mexicans. One was very bonita and she asked me why I was working in the fields, she was shocked to see a gringo doing that kind of hard work.
I pointed to the house on the hill and asked her " you see that house, Juanita?" And she just nodded n said "Si". I told that little Senorita "like-a-said, that's my family's home and I'm out here in the trenches to pitch in"
Juanita looked honesty ataken aback and she dropped her wranglers and pulled her panties to the aside and honesty I was taken aback.
I'll never forget that summer I was slow at picking but her family helped me keep up and gave blowjobs and field-pussy.
She died that summer in a car crash and I cried, her family stayed and continued working and putting-out,which taught me what strength is. To this day I will never forget how she told me not to dip spit " no no no, your getting spit on the tomatoes don't do that, mister" and to this day I always mind my P and Q
I look down on the tomato groves when the wind is just right and the cold summer air just blows
2023-11-02 at 5:20 PM UTC
*you're getting spit on the tomatoes.
