Reverend Venerable came to see me the morning after we’d arrested Andrew Cummings. Who sat in his cell, hunched over, in his black suit.“How long ...ill you keep him?”“Up to the district judge. I sent Marshal Autry a telegram, haven’t heard back.”“That No-Name transgressor desecrated my church.”I nodded, “String him up.”“No, that was an overreaction. My Deacons are protective of ... our faith.”I shrugged, “Up to Judge Dawkins, not my doings.”The boy, Hotel Timmy, was the son of Mrs. Chambers’. " He said that he never masturbated, that he endlessly preferred me and I believed him. When we were younger he used my body to pleasure himself many times a day and although we had grown older and the sex had slowed, he knew that if he wanted "release" all he had to do was take me. And so now my son was masturbating. So he was "not loved" as my husband would say. He had no girlfriend, and if he had then my husband and I would have forbade premarital sex. He had no other outlet for his natural. He started fucking harder and then revealed a secret. “Silly girl. You can't get pregnant like this. That's why people do it.” But Sally was breathing heavy and lost in the motion. It felt so exciting. Again she was trying to keep from having an orgasm, 'Don't cum. Don't cum. Don't cum.' Her eyes were closed and her mouth slack as she leaned on her elbow when suddenly she felt something press against her lips. Stan's voice crept into her ears, “George felt left out the other day. Maybe you. He did not surmise that this was the only source, of course.I thought it was possible that Doctor George VI was himself a sex addict. I also surmised, that sex addiction was genetic.Doctor George VI undertook a clinical study to determine the real origins of heterosexual sexual addiction. It afforded him numerous opportunities to fuck oversexed women participating in the study. And as his chief nurse, I was fighting off many of the men. But one particular man, a wealthy married businessman,.