So, Jim and I stayed buddies and dated and fucked other people. One thing we always fought about was sports. We were not originally from the same ar...a and didn’t agree on one sports team. I loved the Indianapolis Colts with a passion while he was a Charger’s fan. YUCK. One Sunday we were at the bar watching football when of course we got into our usual disagreement about which team was better. He bet me a very expensive bottle of wine that his team would have a better record than mine. I. But as an adult she was inclined to dismiss this explanation. Age thirty-two, she was another in the legion of lapsed Catholics; individuals familiar with its rituals and beliefs in the same way many adults are familiar with their high school French. Perhaps, one hundred years ago – in another time and another place -- her obsession might have set herself apart as a woman with a calling to serve the Church. But she had her doubts. Her obsession – or fetish in the words she now used to describe. She thought about just leaving. But she had to know who the man was. She walked much more quietly to the back door and let herself in. The studio was just around the corner and she could hear Valerie much more clearly now. She was wailing and obviously in the throes of an orgasm.Penny peeked around the door. She was immediately disappointed.The man's back was to her. Well ... not his back, exactly. His ass was pointing right at her as he kneeled on all fours to service Valerie. Penny naturally. She slid the handle of the hairbrush over her landing strip and spread her pussy lips with it. She moaned as the handle rubbed against her slit and wet lips. I shouldn’t be doing this, she thought, but she couldn’t stop. She coated the handle with her juices as she pushed it in her cunt and pressed it against her clit.Moaning, she thought again of Mister Hunter’s growing bulge and then of her mother’s comment about being horny.Oh my God, would she? Did she? she thought. Did my mom go to see.