Needless to say it caused me to vomit profusely. I was removed from the table by Dan and given a spoon to eat my vomit off the floor. I was unable to ...o it without vomiting again and again. They both just laughed at me struggling to do it. I then drank what seemed to be a gallon of piss from the guest. I held my mouth open until full then swallowed. It took 7 mouthfuls to get it all. More vomit came quickly. There wasn't a lot of time left and Dan told me that the Guest wanted to see me in. Her brown hair was halfway brushed, and still a half rats nest on the top of her head. Biting down on my hand I continued to watch as she continued singing at the top of her lungs into the purple hairbrush enclosed in her dainty fingers. The entertaining show continued on for another minute until she looked in the mirror, her eyes spotting me doubled over in silent laughter behind her. "Nicholas!" Looking up I saw her face turning red in a mixture of embarrassment and anger. Angrily reaching. I remember a quote from Woody Guthrie we had on the refrigerator at Brisbane Road “ …if I had longer arms, I’d push the clouds away…” Words cannot begin to convey my indebetness . . . In the recent past there have been other people, to whom I also owe a huge debt of gratitude. First, let me mention “the little people.” Dennis Barnes, Barbara DeCeasere, and Bruce Waldron – thanks for inadvertently giving me the courage to tackle this, by doing your own first. Anne Poissant, thanks for eating all. My naughty fingers started moving again.I put my forehead on my arm, but pushed my butt towards him, an invitation that I did not even speak. My fingers continued to work through my folds, pinching my clit. I heard Peter’s zipper.I wanted to turn and look again but I instead kept my eyes closed and concentrated on the feeling of my fingers dancing through my own slickness. I felt a slight breeze crossing my back as he moved closer.I pushed harder at my clit and thrust my hips back onto his.