*The sky seemed greyer, and the nave dimmer than usual, as Alison shuffled into Wankminster Cathedral that evening.“Forgive me, Fucker, for I have s...nned.” Alison’s lower lip trembled as she spoke.“How long has it been since your last Confession?” came a familiar reassuring voice.“Oh, not long, Fucker – just a few days, but… a lot has happened in those few days – I hardly know where to begin.” She wrung her hands in desperation, as if trying to wash her pain away.“Take your time, there’s no. “You’re enjoying it, I can feel it,” she teasingly said after some minutes, having lowered her fingers and rubbed the wet spot that had formed there. My panties were slid to the side, my lips left open for her assaulting fingers. I could only imagine the wet noises as her fingers slid between said lips and stroked up and down; getting a generous coat of my arousal before they moved back to my now exposed clit. The first flick of her slick fingers felt intense and the car swayed slightly thanks. More

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