I love when I get to do the job I am paid to do. But being on a ship means you are a sailor first so we are left with other jobs that aren’t as cool...or fun. We paint the ship constantly, although it isn’t hard it becomes tedious unless of course you are on the top part of the ship and painting the deck when you are about to arrive in Hawaii (sorry forgetting off track just brought back some good memories). We also do a job called molly which means you have to clean up the main cafeteria. Molly. “Okay stud, plant that baby maker in me and work your magic.”I climbed between her legs and sunk my shaft all the way to the bottom of her tunnel. “Oh god Tom, I may not be pregnant yet but by the end of this week you will have definitely planted a crop in my womb.”That just made me harder and I started pounding Becky’s pussy for all I was worth. I don’t know how many times Becky came, but after the first five minutes or so it seemed like she was having a continuous orgasm. After I had pumped. She too started off with her c***dhood, born in the manor house, father the local magistrate, mother the dowager duchess of Madeley. A distant c***dhood though daddy began misusing her by the time she was 12 and was sharing her with her older brother before she was 15, sadly the brother was an effeminate bi who went off with his cousin the third earl. Father was so beside himself he shot himself on a hunting trip and even botched that, he never really recovered, and once the facts had come out,. I furrowed my brow, remembering my Mother’s homegrown Catholic justice.I was not and had never been ‘a good Catholic girl.’ My whole life, I think I’d only been to confession twice—once before my first communion, and again when I was about thirteen. It just didn’t sit well with me. It’s not the theory so much that bothered me. On some level I think I actually liked that. But in practice, somehow the atonements I was assigned just seemed too generic; too asymmetrical to my crime. You lied about.