"Don't make him cum just yet, Ronnie!" the hairy cop shouted underneath the table. "You know it is always I, Lycanpit, who gets to see the final explosion!" That's when I saw the skinny blonde guy from the duck shooting gallery crawl out from underneath the table. He looked at me and laughed, wiping his mouth and then he moved over to me, putting his shoulder in my face. It was the same shoulder I had accidently shot and it was still covered in rich, dark red blood. "Lick it!" he said to me. "Lick my shoulder clean of my blood, you cum-faced animal! It's the least you can do for being the one to have shot me!"

I was soooo confused, wondering what sort of devious plot these people had in mind for me. I never had liked the taste of blood. I looked over at the man I now knew to be "LycanPit," the big hairy fake cop and he nodded to me as if acknowledging and approving of what Ronnie ordered me to do. Not wanting to anger Lycanpit and hoping that doing what he said would land me a night in his tent, I began lapping at Ronnie's shoulder blood like a dog, drinking it like a pig out in the desert. I winced as I ran my tongue over it, bracing myself for the rusty, bitter taste of blood I loathed but to my surprise it hinted at the sweet taste of tomatoes and the spicy tinge of peppers! When my taste buds started to register the slight nuance of red onion I knew then that what I was drinking was not blood but SALSA! Hahahahahahahaaa! It had been a trick the whole time, a clever ruse to lure me into this purple tent full of hedonistic ecstasy, this strange carnival of corn tortillas and burrito-splattered blow-jobs.

"Do you like how his shoulder tastes?" Lycanpit said to me as he stood up and began to take off his cop uniform. "If you like the taste of the salsa on his shoulders you will go mad from what I have to give you for dessert." I watched as Lycanpit ripped off his shirt to expose his huge, hairy chest. It was covered in hair, two massive pectorals stood out and his big pink nipples looked like two eyes of a hungry wolf looking down on me. He slid off his white cotton underwear briefs to let loose a cock that should be illegal, it was soooooo long and so thick and gorgeous, an uncut cock whose foreskin formed a mushroom cloud over the tip, a mass of delicious, savory pinkish tan flesh for me to chew on. I began to do just that, got down on knees on the dirt floor of the tent and started chewing on Lycanpit's foreskin. His cock got harder and harder until it stood rigid and firm, a good ten inches of thick juicy manhood. He had a nice patch of dark black pubes above his cock and covering his balls that I nibbled and sucked. Ronnie from the duck shoot got down with me and we both started slobbering on Lycanpit's cock as he looked up to the tent ceiling and howled. He raised his arms in the air and shouted, "Remove the roof and let my mother in!"

Suddenly the Mexicans at the picnic table all scattered. I heard clings and clangs and noticed a couple of them outside the tent, getting up on a ladder. Soon they had pulled back a part of the tent roof so that the bright milky light of the full moon could shine down upon the beautiful scene of Ronnie and I sucking Lycanpit's beautiful cock. I let his dick simmer in my mouth, felt the blood inside it roaring and howling as I went back and forth upon it, making Lycanpit gasp. I became lost in a dream world of dick-sucking. Ronnie licked Lycanpit's balls while I slobbered on the dick stick as the moonlight cascaded down and covered us in a sea of sweet carnival carnality. The Mexican food in my belly seemed to be at peace; it and the cum from hours earlier seemed to all squeeze together in my stomach, gathered in a remote corner of my bowels to make room for what would have to be a gallon of jizz that would eventually explode from Lycanpit's cock.