’ ‘He might never come again.’ ‘I don’t know if I want him to come again.’ A pause. ‘Are you happy?’ A long pause. ‘Yes. I hav...e others. Friends. Family. Someone new.’ she smiles. ‘I’m happy.’ ‘But sad too.’ ‘Yes, sad too.’ ‘So why are you here?’ She thinks. Her legs relax, slowly moving away from her curled position. ‘I didn’t know I was happy. Sometimes I’m not happy.’ ‘Do you want to be real?’ Thinks again. Choosing. Choosing is real. Life is real. Pain is real. Love is real. Her. It drives him nuts. He loves to feel her soft lips on the shaft and her wet hot mouth wrapped around its hard mass. He loves the way her warm drool slides down and over his balls. He loves to feel it on his fingers. Helps him know that she is having fun. The more drool the better. The best sensation he gets is when she has him grab the shaft and jerk it in and out of her mouth fast. He holds her head as he pumps it in and out of her mouth. The warm drool covers his fingers. She loves feeling. After 2 weeks I told her that I have the desire to press her boobs on the message she said it’s not right but later agreed. Next day we moved to a more secluded place and I started smooching her and I a grabbed her untouched virgin boobs. I pressed it over her churidar (Kerala colleges have uniform white churidar and gray leggings in this case). Now in a swift moment, I grabbed that virgin untouched huge ass that everyone stares over her leggings. Now I was smooching her and one hand grabbing. The worst were the ones that had punctured her nipples. One had pierced the tip. Every time she breathed, her chest heaving brought about excruciating pain. But she had other problems to worry about. Father John hands were returning to her body. She could feel his hands running up and down her legs, knowing that he would not be content until he reached up under her skirt."Very good, Sally. You're spread so wide. I know it must hurt, but you must suffer for your sins. Now lay still, I will help.