Her eyes were in turn on the engrossing shaft tunneling down the left thigh of my trousers.“Can I help?” I asked softly.“I doubt it,” she offe...ed, “Unless you can pee for me.”“Can I watch?” I asked stupidly, because it was a stupid question, I already was.She shrugged her shoulders and squatted a little lower, dark yellow, sharply odiferous piss trickled, then stopped, then jetted and stopped, beginning to flow strongly as she relaxed, some splattering on her hose and thighs. As her urine ran. I added little dots of cream onto the pineapple and his balls, and twirled it into the chocolate that flowed over his groin in little etchings that matched those on his body, working very, very carefully with my pointy wooden stick. “That feels so good,” he groaned as I traced the patterns, “You can do that forever. Don’t stop.” I didn’t. I sat there for ages, until my back hurt, tracing the pretty white patterns in the dark chocolate, and then reversing, drawing dark chocolate back into the. More

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