I failed to speak, but my eyes were on hers as Lyra rubbed her tits and smiled at me. She didn't talk and gladly welcomed my load as she did love it."...h, yes," I moaned, shooting my first stream.I still managed to keep my eyes on hers the whole time. 'Crap, I got her in the face,' I thought, featuring a worried face.I unloaded four more streams that didn't get her face, but still soaked her jugs and stomach. I rattled a bit more with each one, but I wouldn't stop looking at her to save my life.. It was another of those forgotten things that she remembered at 1 AM. I was just crawling into bed when the kids got up. My second daughter noted that day that Santa cussed, she heard him. No shit! "You promised me, no more 'some assembly required' bikes." No, not bikes. It's a trampoline." I swear her voice bounced like a kid on one. She smiled at me, too sweetly. Rubbing her hands on my chest and sliding down slowly, "It's out in the lawn shed." Her hands found my belt buckle and continued. ‘Woah, woah, woah!’ I exclaimed, as he attempted to pack a red lace dress and black heels. ‘It’s for the party on the last night, Ronnie. You can’t wear jeans,’ he said, side-stepping me and adding them to the growing pile. Rolling my eyes and giving him a playful shove, I allowed him to add a pair of wellies and trainers. While his back was turned, I reached below my pillow, and silently packed my notebook and fountain pen. My brother — the pain in my backside. He was forcing me to go along. “In a nutshell, their geese are cooked and even the most obtuse leaders of the EOA must be rethinking their prospects. The Hermiston Line can’t hold indefinitely, especially as we’ve now managed to outflank them and surround them on three sides. That salient is badly exposed and they know it, but they fear to withdraw and evacuate Hermiston.“They’re running out of cities, after all. I also feel badly for them ... but they’re being wasted in a bad cause by self-serving local bigwigs who fear.