The second spurt joined the first and the rest followed suit. Sam spun around to see Tom wanking furiously over the tiled surface. She smiled at him a... he unloaded his balls onto the bathroom floor. Laura eventually climbed down from the walls and relaxeed into Sam’s body. She too turned around and saw the remnants of Tom’s efforts now trickling down over his hand and balls and dripping on the floor. “Come on you…it‘s my turn now…” said Laura as she pulled Sam by the hand and headed for the. Not that it would have mattered. John Stamper just didn't show up on most Internet searches any more. He had no Facebook presence; well, he did, but it hadn't been updated in eight years, any more than his twitter had been. He didn't have a police record – the only way to track him would have been through bank records, although even then his address was a P.O. box in Atlanta, that he then had a service forward on to his local P.O. box in Oregon, or via the IRS, but with the same cut outs.John. More

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