I aimed my weapon toward Marla's legs and just let loose.I pretty sure the waitress didn't know I was coming, but she smiled and winked at Marla as sh... turned. Marla was so hot over this incident. She said the hot cum shooting on her leg, as the waitress stood there, was such a friggin' turn on. "WOW", she said and would keep saying it for months, even years, to come.I cleaned off the best I could and we went to our car. Marla opened the car door and, while still standing outside, slid off her. One soon tires of contemplating one'sown cock and balls, no matter how splendid and beautiful they may be. My solution, such as it is (it's not perfect) is to have starteda dildo collection. These cocks are not real, of course, any more thana statue or a portrait in oils or a photograph is real. But they arerealistic; they are faithful representations of the actual objects--or,at least, mine are. I buy only those that have been made from moldsfitted to the genitals of the men from whom they are. ”“So, you don’t think I’m hot either?”“Sarah ... Look. If I were to think about you abstractly, as if you weren’t my sister, then of course I think you’re hot.”“Justin said I’m fat.”“You are absolutely not, in any way! What a piece of shit. Who is he to call you that? Fuck him. You are very, very attractive, Sarah.”“So, you might think about it?”“Sarah, I said if you weren’t my sister, OK? Did you hear that part?”“Fine, fine Randy. Yes, I heard it. Even though I don’t understand. Justin. Then he saw my kitty on full display. His face turned puce with rage, something I’d only seen once before when a fox had killed his favourite chicken.Luther looked me in the eye for a scarily long moment. “Fucking whore,” he spat out, before stalking off.Part of me knew I should have jumped off the wall and chased after him to beg for forgiveness, but my body wouldn’t respond.“Noooo,” I wailed, pulling up the front of my skirt to cover my beetroot red face.“He shouldn’t have called you that,”.