I spent a few seconds considering who I knew that might be talking to Val, for I had finally recognized the voice. “Well kiddo what kind of stories...have you been hearing?” “I hear,” She replied “that you are a very good lifestyle Master.” Now that wasn’t really a question so I surmised that she was leading up to something. I nodded and waited for her to speak. “I was told you may be able to help a friend of mine out.” “Ooook.” I replied really beginning to wonder where this was headed. Valasca. "I have a better idea. Let me lick your pussy some more. If you come in my mouth again and let me drink more of that sweet honey, I'll let you shit in my mouth and I'll eat it. I swear I'll really do it! And you can piss on me anytime you want!"This confession was especially poignant because in all the times that we'd chatted on-line, we'd never discussed anything that extreme. Mostly the humiliation culminated in things like her pissing on me while I licked her feet or something like that. She. In one movement the cock pulled out and they guy chucked the condom on the floor and changed places with his friend as he slipped a condom on and sunk his cock deep into wet hole. The guy screamed as the cock hit home and started to rock and pound him hard. The other guys started to jerk off over his body as they watched cocks go in and out of his mouth and man pussy. Around Chris and his cocksucker the men started to pull at their own cocks and balls harder and he could hear the wetness as. It was a memorial that caused another.Who am I?The funeral was for an acquaintance, a minor ghost from the past. She attended Notre Dame with me but never rode in my Desoto. She looked me up after she moved to the Pacific Northwest. Despite her Notre Dame diploma, her funeral was a secular service that lacked the propriety spiritual ambiance for the mystery of death found in a Catholic religious service, at least for me.Reposed in her open coffin, lifelike, black coiffured hair, fingernails.