How and why would someone own an Irish pub, the roach motel for Anglophones, without speaking any English themselves. (I quickly dismissed my scorn wh...n I remembered the Italian restaurants back home with people named smith or cooper running an ‘Ristorante’ that served ketchup based marinara gravy). The conversation shifted between the others. One would say ‘Hey dude’ and I’d say ‘mamma mia.’ After exchanging our knowledge of each others language and a couple of snickers at my expense I was. Since that was before the days of television, in fact, we didn't even own a radio until several years later Elmer Peako became our entertainment, telling us funny jokes. He was just fun to be around.When my mother, Bessie apologized for burning the food on our rickety old wood stove with its non-existent temperature controls, it was Elmer who lightened the moment by remarking."Don't you worry, Aunt Bessie. I left my manners home and brought my appetite."There was also that man-of-mystery. Rachel grunted like a wild a****l in heat, as Harry plunged her ass forcefully with the big black intruder. As she was preparing for yet another creamy orgasm, I switched back to her glistening pussy, and stung her clit rapidly and unmercifully, until she yelled out, and squirmed uncontrollably, squirting her love juices out with some force.I looked over at Harry, and he was sweating, and smiling, and his cock was as hard and twitching as mine. Rachel regained her composure enough to ask her. “Take me forty-five minutes to talk to the boy. So Father Dott, bring them to my office at 3pm.”Dott patiently explained parts of the doctrine of the diocese to the woman and answered all of her questions. She calmed and seemed to be accepting things.“So, you’re priests who help boys by letting them suck your cocks.”“Well, I suppose that’s it in a nutshell, but it’s like what Father Fontane said: What better situation could you find?”.Fontane instructed Jenni to accompany him and Devin to his.