I remembered very distinctly that I’d hoped for it. That seemed very close, conceptually.The idea that was percolating in my mind seemed far-fetche..., but I did what one does: I pinched myself, making sure I wasn't dreaming. It hurt, and I didn't wake up in my bed. I had just briefly fantasized about Angela lifting up her shirt to show me her ass, and then she'd done exactly that. What she'd done afterwards hadn't been a part of my little fantasy, though. I didn't know what that meant.I needed. When the spasms stopped I rolled off and realized I hadn’t peed before screwing.She beat me to the toilet and was sitting there pissing, thighs spread so I could see it flow and also the whitish cream dripping out. I couldn’t wait so I aimed carefully and hit her pussy just right so my stream bounced off her clit and dripped into the bowl. She grinned at me so I think she expected what she got. That crotch was no stranger to golden showers.We soaped each other in our oversized shower as we. ”Dad nodded. I hoped that meant he approved. “You look in pretty good shape for someone who had his lights punched out,” he observed.I lifted up my shirt. Terri gasped at the livid red bruise.“You need to go to the hospital,” said Mum.“It’s okay,” I said. “It looks worse than it feels.”Mum didn’t look convinced but she didn’t press the issue. “At least you’ve got tomorrow off, and since you’re grounded you’ll be able to rest,” she said.“About that,” I said. “I need to show you something.” I. You kept calling me by that name."She had cringed then and cringed again remembering last night. Last night. Last night. Last night. Just another night at one of the clubs that lined the street stretching out from the post's main gate. She couldn't even remember the name of the club. Shit, why should she? She couldn't even recall the name of the man in her BED for God's sake. She could only remember bits and pieces of the night.The music had been loud and fast. She had always loved dancing and.