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"I buy the rice paper tubes and I have a hand crank machine to make them. It's a blend of Marijuana and some other herbs. Then I fit them in the wooden holders." So you don't grow the pot?" I asked."No, I know the guys who does though. They don't process it. The sell their pot to a small manufacturer who blends it. He has the secret blending recipe and process. I know it's a little different and not as potent but it taste better and makes for a more mellow high," he said."So your stubby cigarette is home made from shit that fell off a truck?" I asked."Yeah, something like that," he said.We passed the stubby joint back and forth for a while, then lit another. I was pretty high when we finished the second one. Jeff leaned over to kiss me by the pool. His kiss seemed very sweet and tender. I enjoyed kissing him. Hell I would have enjoyed kissing a frog at that point.He broke the kiss after a moment or two then slipped his hand under my tight top. His hands were warm and I responded to. While Kayla’s breasts were mashed against Kenny’s chest, she swore her knees became weak. “Kayla, you are even more beautiful than I remember you. Your hair has gotten a lot longer I see, but you still have those little freckles on your nose that I used to love so much.” Kayla caught his scent, mixed with delightful cologne she could not place. “Let me show you to our rooms, so you two can freshen up from your drive” RJ said. With that, he picked up all of Candy’s bags, smiled at her and said “after you, yours is the first door on the right – that’s Kayla’s room.” As Candy started up the stairs, RJ could not take his eyes off of his cousin’s ass. The white short-shorts swayed with a rhythm while she climbed, and RJ got a very tiny glimpse of the pink panties she wore as the top rose slightly above the band of her shorts.RJ showed Candy to Kayla’s room and carefully set down the bags. “If there’s anything you need just holler at me” RJ said and almost stammered. RJ could not take.
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Four times Jim Benson came ashore, cheerful and happy, and then went off to roister his nights away, leaving the boat with hardly a backward glance. On the fifth he disembarked with an air of savage frustration that Bob detected even before Jim’s feet had touched the wharf. He stood at the opened office door as Benson stalked by. ‘Streuth, Jim, what’s wrong with you?’ he asked. ‘Bob, that bloody woman is driving me wild. She won’t let me put a finger on her.’ ‘I thought you weren’t interested in her.’ ‘I wasn’t, until I found out she’s an inspector in the Commonwealth Taxation Office.’ Bob twitched and cast a guilty eye on the set of opened accounts he was working on. ‘Hellfire and damnation, thanks for the tip off. But I don’t quite see. . .’ ‘Don’t see, you don’t bloody see! I earn my money sweating my guts out in the dust and the flies, and those bastards take twenty thousand dollars off me each year! A hundred days a year I’m out in temperatures above the old hundred degrees F.

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