Hershirtsleeves are rolled above her elbows, and, with the index finger ofher right hand, she touches one of the three gobs of her own semen thatdecor...tes the wall before her. The wall bears a drawing of aValentine's-shaped heart, pierced by an arrow, with one name writtenabove it and another below, but the names, unfortunately, are illegible. Was this message--perhaps one written and drawn by Kimberly herself--theKimberly in the drawing (as well as Kimberly the actual artist)--theinspiration. I knew whatit was. A Ruger .22 five shot. It wasn't any bigger than a lot ofderringers. I knew where it had come from. I said, "This used to bemine, didn't it? You had to have gotten it from my old house." Shesaid, "Yes, it seemed prudent at the time. I wasn't going to give it toyou until I was sure you needed it, and wouldn't use it on me." Thatdid make me smile a little, but I was barely away from a full panic. Atleast with school out, I didn't have to worry about carrying it there.I. We began reminiscing about our college years and our various adventures and escapades during those years, eventually going into comparing our college sex stories, than sex stories since college. At the end of one of Jess’ stories, as I finished my fifth can of Sprite, I announced, “I really gotta pee again!” As I said that I stood up, with a little help from the arm of the couch as I wasn’t too good at standing straight in the state I was in. “Does that mean I get to pee on you now?” I. She was a normal middle-aged Indian housewife, then she was 34 years, had a fantastic body, not size zero but she was blessed with the most perfectly sized assets. She was 5’8” and of wheatish complexion with a killer smile. Back then, I was 16 and very shy. I never had the guts to talk to her, but whenever we crossed I smiled and she always reciprocated. After she passed, I would turn around to enjoy the view of her million dollar butt, the way it swayed as she walked was a sight to behold. As.