Women with British accents are especially pleasing to me and when these women use those so very proper spoken women use profanity it just blows me awa...y! Rosalind didn’t disappoint on that score and every time we spoke on the phone I was more and more convinced that one day I needed to have that wonderful voice inches from my ear begging me to push harder and deeper into her. She arrived on a Sunday late afternoon and traffic around Newark was even worse than it is on weekdays as scores of. Aimee never heard from her again.We knew William's secret, and were a danger to him. On the other hand, he knew our secrets as well.Years passed and we didn't hear from William or his goon squad, nor did any of us get any premonitions that we were being followed or that danger was imminent. Aimee told me about Patricia when she was sure that she'd never hear from her again. I felt bad, but that part of my heart had healed in the years that had passed.The fact that we didn't feel any danger. “Can I help you?” I asked.“Father Tim?” came the tentative reply.“Father Tim has been transferred. I’m Father Edward.”“Do you know where he went?” Her voice was deep, husky, that of a middle-aged woman.“I’m afraid not. I can hear your confession if you’d like.”"Well, if you really want to,” she said as she launched into a litany of sins, most of them carnal in nature. I must admit, I did find her confession titillating. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has only been a week since my last. Liira's expression changed to one of exaggerated shock at my forwardness, and in her little-girl voice she whimpered "Oh, sir, I don't think this is the sort of punishment you're meant to use." I simply ignored her, speeding up and burying more of myself in her with each inward thrust. Within moments, Liira began to respond, her hips moving in time with my rhythm, increasing the sensations I felt. As we continued in that position, I took the opportunity afforded to me to leave my mother mostly.
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