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Americans are never afraid to take a bold step. That’s why we’re Number One. Canadians are never going to be Number One. They just don’t have what it takes. They lack the intelligence, the boldness, the entrepreneurship, the drive, the ruthlessness and the ambition. They’re happy sitting around discussing Crosby versus Gretzky, the goodness of Maple syrup, and how much they don’t like Americans, or the non-European immigrants these multicultural Canadians claim to love so much. People of color considering moving to North America, please be advised of this hidden truth. If you want to see real multiculturalism, avoid Canada altogether. Down there, they talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. All of their leaders? So Caucasian. All of their power holders? So Caucasian. The inmates of their prisons? Not so Caucasian. Hell, even the person in charge of Aboriginal Affairs in Canada is Caucasian? How in hell could he possibly relate to the Aboriginals or have their best interests at heart. Kayla had asked RJ if he was done growing his penis yet and RJ had said he wasn’t sure. Kayla was OK if he didn’t get any longer, as sometimes he would hurt her a little bit when he hit bottom. However, RJ said he would like to get thicker.Kayla said she didn’t know why boys were so concerned with their penis size, as she couldn’t believe that being thicker could provide her any greater pleasure that RJ gave her now. RJ told her that boys worry about size, for the same reason girls worry about how big their tits are gonna get!Once Kayla had RJs cock free of his underwear, she started to stroke him up and down, as she had a hundred times before.“RJ, don’t hold back . . we don’t have a lot of time and I want to make you feel good for tonight.” With that Kayla wrapped her lips around the head of RJs cock while she continued to stroke his shaft for all she was worth.RJ moaned as his sister’s warm lips engulfed his manhood. She had this technique of swirling her tongue all around his.
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He made himself a drink and wandered off, after kissing both of us on the cheek. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he said with a smile.“I haven’t found anything you wouldn’t do,” commented Mom as she waved him off. I giggled at this, then walked off with Mom. She looked at me and the glass of wine I was holding. “Listen, seriously, if you are going to drink, remember, nobody likes a sloppy drunk. If you get loaded and end up puking in the bushes and passed out on the floor, you’ll never be invited back. It’s not one of your high school drinking contests.”“Mother!” I protested.“I’m serious.”I shrugged acceptance. I decided to stick with the white wine. I don’t really like the taste of wine, so I wouldn’t be drinking it fast.We were heading down the hallway towards the family room when we were greeted by a woman coming the other way. It took me a second to recognize her - it was Amanda Baker, Roger’s wife, the woman I had run across in the bathroom during the party at my parent’s and.

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