I made us a coffee and we sat, still all naked on the sofa, Heather in the middle, her sweet flesh glistening with sweat and odors of sex coming from ...er. She turned and said. 'Debbie works at the holiday camp doesn't she?''Yes that's right', I said, 'In the lounge bar'.'Has she mentioned the two girls who work there?''Yes she has sort of in passing'. I replied.Heather went on, 'They are both in our circle with their husbands and I hope you are ok with this, but I phoned Alice before we came. With no warning cock is removed and he is gone. I feel the sharp crack of a cane before I hear it. The skin is burning on my bottom, again the crack of the cane, tears well up in my eye' s the wrong way and run up my forehead. I cry so I get more. Another and another, the pain is so great that I piss myself; I feel the warm liquid running down my body and into my hair and onto my face. It soothes the pain of the cane so I don't stop, he laughs. I feel degraded and even dirtier that I did. Then she raised her head again. "OK, wicked motherfucker, are we going to just go ahead and go to hell together?" Let's, Mom. Wherever you are, I want to be there with you--in you if possible."Mom laughed and kissed me again. Then she began to roll us over. "Come on, honey. You get on top and do it to me this time. Fuck your mother, honey!"We awkwardly managed to get rolled over in the narrow bed without uncoupling, and now I was between her thighs in the classic missionary position, looking. She had long dark hair, and many people thought she looked like Catherine Zeta Jones. Her breasts were soft and full, and she cared for her legs by taking an evening run. She remembered the married woman who came to the church for counseling. The woman was having an affair with a young man in her nieghborhood. She knew what she must tell the woman, that it was God's plan to keep her passions for marriage. Like any good pastor's wife, she did her duty. However, Mrs. Garrison was intrigued by the.