She had her eyes closed as she rubbed my thick, bulbous head against her hot, moist lips. Then she stopped rubbing and placed me where she wanted me. ...he didn’t grunt or visibly ready herself in any way; she simply eased down onto me.I half-expected Olive to feel as tight as most of my girls, given her lack of sex for so long, but I was wrong. She slid down over me in one smooth motion. She didn’t have to adjust to me or do anything to prepare herself. It was possible the last forty-eight hours. Michael's was almost empty. Father Dowling says it wasn't like that in the old days, before Vatican II, but I wouldn't know about that.All I get in the confessional nowadays is a lot of old ladies and little kids, and none of them have much to confess.I'd just gotten through with two old ladies whose worst sins were gossiping about their neighbors -- and that wasn't what they'd come to confess, it was what they'd come to do. In the cramped, dark booth the grilles on either side didn't provide. More

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