But with Grandpa's return you opened up a whole new can of worms. If this is the end, at least I'll give you props for him not being a complete asshole. But this is still an unfinished story.
On makeshift bedding in the cucumber garden, the hilltribe girl clings to her exhausted lover. Limbs still chaffing with pleasure, dissolving against him she now and again with one bare foot jostles a shell necklace that hangs from a vine on the fence - rattling it though th...