For the past decades, the role of comedy has been to point out the contradictions and absurdities of society.”“Precisely, your grace,” Schnitzle... said. “Neither deaths nor laughs are necessary. Even in my Anatol, the final scene, the morning of the wedding, is comic irony.”I didn’t really follow. I enjoyed the plays, but I’m not a litterateur.Frau Schratt also spoke of her career: she had made her debut here when but 17. A few years later, she was offered a post in Berlin, but returned to. Got a high stress game later." With that, he pulled uphis pants and walked out, leaving me there with jizz sliding down my faceand a huge wetspot growing in the front of my jeans. I stood up and leanedagainst the sink again. I just leaned against it and thought. I wanted tocry, or shout, or do anything other then stand there and let the cum on myface and in my jeans cool and dry. Shaking it off, I turned around andproceeded to wash my face, and then without thinking, started to repair mymakeup.. There was something very personal about swallowing your uncles semen, my aunt, his wife was in the next room singing and completely unaware his life giving fluid was running down the throat of her sister's daughter, and for a brief moment, I felt her equal.Uncle appeared to be oblivious to the fact that he was in danger of being caught committing this act with his niece, but as I later learned, that was part of the thrill, being caught. He was now holding his penis and painting my lips with its. Immediately I released. He drove higher, harder. His black cock so filled me that it rubbed my prostate on each cruel thrust. My cock, harder than it had ever been, began leaking, streaming pre-cum. It was an orgasm of sorts, but unlike any previous, as if my body, my extremities, had become liquid pouring from my cock. Unlike the lightning strike, fireworks orgasms of the past, this one dragged on and on. Consciousness left me, flowed from me with the fluid from my cock. I collapsed onto him.