" said Bob, and he got up and walked over to Bill's table.The two men shook hands and chatted for a couple of minutes. Bill looked over Bob's shoulder...and gave me a smile as Bob handed him a piece of paper, which must have had our address written on it. The men shook hands once more, and Bob came back over to me. "Ready?" he asked.We left the restaurant and headed for home. While we were on the way, I slipped a hand between my legs and slowly started to play with my pussy. "Excited, are we?". I start peeing and it gets stronger - I pee onto my stomach,and chest and in a fountain point my cock straight up so that the pee runs back down my cock and onto my balls and down my arse crack. "Piss on your face" orders my Master and I raise my hips up and shoot piss onto my face and into my mouth. "Good Boy" he says. My piss tastes a little bit strong but as the night goes and we drink a lot more water it will be less salty and more sweet. As I finish peeing my Master, a young, slim smooth. My backpack contained a roll of throwing knives that I had taken off the body of a dead Confederate just because I thought they looked deadly and efficient.Little Kit was so happy with those knives that she sometimes slept with them near to her hand to make her feel more peaceful at night. I was not a qualified instructor in their lethal use, but one of the scouts was quite skillful with either a tomahawk or a knife of any description. He gave her tutoring on a daily basis if she rewarded him. Thanks.’ She closed her eyes and dozed off next to Ned. Ned also rejoined his slumbers. Ned awoke with the unusual but pleasant sensation of a morning blowjob. Quinella’s head was under the covers bouncing them like a fluttering sail. Seeing no need to interrupt or help, he lay back in the pillow and closed his eyes. Quinella’s tongue wrapped one side of the shaft and then the other. She lapped it over the top whenever the tip approached the inside of her lips but never let it completely out of.