Ginny giggled and moved towards him slowly, looking at him like he was a wild a****l. "Sorry, but maybe my memory isfading then, after all I am gettin... old. Maybe you could remind me?" she suggested with a coy smile."Ginny you're what, twenty-two, twenty three maybe?" He asked, rolling his eyes. "I'm older than you and even I canremember where we've had sex.. if I think about it," he added.The red head scowled at him, trying her hardest to appear angry. "I'm twenty," she said blankly. "Maybe. ”“But you wouldn’t listen to me! You didn’t care how much I was hurting. Birgit died, Mom! I loved her. We had planned a future together. You can read her letters. You can ask Jennifer, Melanie, or Becky. Ask Stephanie, she knows as well. Call Birgit’s dad. They will all tell you the same thing I’m telling you.”“And why didn’t you tell me?”“Because I didn’t think you cared. I didn’t think you would understand. Your gravest fear was that I might be involved in a physical relationship with a girl. She did it again. Then she said, “I have...three...more of those for you.” And she pissed in my mouth three more times, me swallowing after each, reveling in a fetish being realized. “Very good,” she said. “Some people think they’re up for that but react badly to the reality. You’re a natural.”For weeks after I revisited that moment while masturbating. One thing I really appreciated is that she wanted me to drink all of her piss, and directly from her. I don’t like porn where the piss just runs. Rather than being tied together, or to the legs of the chair, straps were hooked under her knees, then drawn up to the back of the chair, effectively leaving her groin wide open. She dressed, as like many young American women, as a tease, favoring some kind of schoolgirl outfit. She wore a white blouse with sleek, rolled up sleeves, a very short pleated skirt (tiny white panties visible from her position), and knee high socks with heels. Irina lifted her chin slightly in contempt at the.