Everything was fuzzy, but not like when he was drunk. He knew should get up and find the others. It was getting warmer and clammy sweat started beadin... out, he could feel it pop out of his skin. There was a buzzing sound in his ears. He started to smell things, the leaves around him seemed thick with a scent of decay. The smell of the earth filled his nostrils, but not the dirt of home, but a rotting smell more like the compost pile his mother kept and spread on her garden. He was hot, the air. I gag as he inches his cock even further into my throat (I can't take this, I'm gagging). He releases the grip and pulls his dick all the way to just the tip of his cock and I'm still choking a little, but able to handle this better (oh my god, I hope he's having fun) but he doesn't miss a beat and pushes his dick down my throat and holds it there (he's grunting like a pig; a sex starved fucking pig). Again, even though he is all the way down my throat, he's still trying to push more into my. More

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