He always felt better after these late-night sessions. He felt---lighter, somehow; less agitated; less frustrated; less...angry. It was very the****ut...c. It felt a little like going to Confession! Of course, he couldn't go an actual priest and tell him the sort of things he felt at those moments, but it felt like the next best thing! In a sense, he, himself, WAS his own Confessor. There was no one else he could confide in! There really was something cathartic, and the****utic, about these late. He nearly jumps from his seat as the door opens, and scrambles to hide himself. Leaning in the car, you comfort him with your soothing voice and tell him that you've been watching anyway, so there's no need to stop. He's still fidgeting in his seat as you sit down and close the door. Hitting the lock button makes him catch his breath. Leaning over, you remove his hand and replace it with yours. You can feel his shaft is so hot from where he's been squeezing it. You reach across his lap, and. More

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