Father Mulligan came to the funeral, offering hiscondolences, despite Dad being Baptist. Mom was Catholic and we somehowmanaged to migrate up and down...between churches on Sundays.Mom, not prone to saying much any more, agreed that I should go to thepriest for some counseling. At least once a week. The church was hercomfort those days; she had nothing else to cling to for strength.So I went to see the good priest, friend to the neighborhood, pillar ofthe community, the direct representative of. I continued to rub her clit, she moaned and whispered, "Oh yes baby! I'm cuminnggg!" Her hips heaved and she clasped her legs together, tightly, imprisoning my hand. When she recovered, she released the vise-like grip of her legs; French kissed me and said, "God! That was wonderful!"Kissing me again, she said, "Let's get you out of those clothes." With that she unbuttoned and removed my shirt. When that had been accomplished she removed my slacks. She stared, open mouthed at my cock and said,. More

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