’ Tears were coursing down her cheeks by that time. They always did. She wondered if he could see her though the pale screen between them. She thoug...t that since she could see him then certainly he could see her, so he was a heartless bastard. Then she hated herself again for thinking a priest could be a bastard. Certainly she’d sinned again. She hated herself for what she’d become, and she felt powerless to do anything about it. But when Sunday morning came around it was as it had been so. I love the way it feels to my hands. My hands are working your entire back and neck. You begin to relax because it feels so good. Your breasts peek out from under you and make me want touch them. You smell so good as your perfume meets my nose. I'll slip off your pants and rub your legs too. Your panties are kind of thread worn and I can make out your shape beneath them as I work on your thighs. I can feel your warmth on my hands. My cock is pushing tightly against my pants also. I can't help. More

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