“Yes! Yes! That’s it Vicky, that’s it!” He shouted as I felt the first jerk of his cock, which was followed by jet after jet of hot salty ...punk. I couldn’t have pulled away if I’d wanted to, as he held my head in place with his huge hand. He was grunting now as the last drops of his seed spewed across my face.“Ha, ha,” he laughed as he untangled my auburn hair, “maybe I was wrong about women, that was the best blow job I’ve had in years!”He flopped back onto the bed, and I lay beside him,. It was the largest cum load I had ever shot. It felt great and yet I felt guilty because I just blew my load because of my sister. I thought there was no way she would use that photo again. Then I heard a noise and I quickly put the cum covered photo into one of the drawers of my bathroom cabinet that I never used. I pulled up my pants and rushed out. I found the door of my bedroom shut but not closed as I thought I had closed it. Then I began to worry that Krystyn was in there or did not. “So you’re stuck in the 1960s, even though you’re not old enough to remember them.” He asked as he peeked in my private bathroom. “I was born in the wrong decade.” I replied. “Who told you that?” “It’s just how I feel.” “So what do you do for fun in here?” “I’m glad you asked.” I said with a sly smile. I went to my dresser drawer and took out a flesh tone dildo. “What the hell is that?” he asked incredulously. “You don’t know what this is?!” “Of course, I know what it is. I mean, why do you. She let him talk, interjecting a careful question every now and then to keep him going when he faltered. By the end Stan felt desperately tired. It seemed to him that Denise had shouldered a lot of the grief that he’d felt that afternoon. It wasn’t completely gone, of course – he knew it probably never would – but he felt better, lighter somehow. He looked up at the pretty red haired face and asked, for the first time, ‘Was there something you wanted, Denise?’ ‘Yes, actually, Stan. But you.