Over the next several months I could not help myself and on a fairly regular basis I continued to masturbate over Faith, sometimes completely covering...her face, other times on her tiny butt, or directly over her tiny pussy. On more than one occasion I even pushed my finger into her, but just a tiny bit. It always amazed me that she never really woke up, and when she did I was always able to cover it up because I either didn’t cum or was just cleaning her up.By the time I was a bit over 17 I had. I brought them coffee and donuts and thanked them frequently. They had to get to the chapel at six to have the panel ready for me to paint at seven-thirty. They hung around a while, sometimes mixing more pigments so I didn’t run short or if I needed a special color. I needed the whole day to do one panel. It was a giornata—a day’s work.When you think about Michelangelo painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel—believe me, my friends had all made jokes about me and Mike—he was only able to. My crew appeared to have accepted their fate. No one talked on the bridge as Jessica and Kelsey tried to refine firing plans designed to get missiles through any defense the ships ahead of us might offer. Blaine dozed in his chair, occasionally making a minute adjustment, but otherwise allowing the ship to follow a route he had programmed.Chaz was the busiest. She was in near constant conversation with Ipanema’s communications officer. I quickly picked up the fact that Captain Prescott was even. "What? What is it? What's wrong? Did I grow a third arm or something?No one answered. They just stared.Calling to the butler, I asked for a mirror. With a trembling hand, Edmond (the ancient butler who had served our family for as long as I could remember) passed me my mother's pearl and diamond inlayed mirror. I wondered what I was about to see.I too could not believe what my eyes were telling me. I told Edmond to bring me a brandy, immediately. I needed a drink, and this time not water. I.