A loosely-woven robe of coarse brown fabric hung from the rutting priest's shoulders, entirely open in the front, a knotted waist cord hanging tangled...down each side. A crucifix, bearing the carved figure of a weeping and crucified man, flopped and danced wildly from the priest's neck, its repeated impacts against his chest ignored. Beads of sweat fell upon the crucifix and were scattered away like so many tears wept by the carved figure thereon.She was, without doubt, an angel. Everyone. "You came in Carla five times and four in Jessica," Brenda offered her mate."No way," Fred said aloud."What did she say?" both women wanted to know."Well..."Carla grabbed Fred's shoulder. "How many, Brenda?"Brenda told her."Shit, Baby. You came nine times last night and this morning." No way," Fred repeated as he backed up, then turned onto the street a moment later after checking for traffic, stalling as he tried to remember. Fuck, some of those orgasms were quick when everybody started coming. More

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