Felicia had noticed while she was making her accusatory comments to him that he was fidgeting with the small Bible, fanning the pages, bending it. He ...poke calmly and evenly: ‘The Elect are those whom God has chosen for salvation. They were chosen before the founding of the world, just as those whom God has passed over were chosen. But we… I mean, the Elect, are not chosen due to any personal merit, neither for the charity of our acts nor the depth of faith in our hearts…’ ‘You mean their acts,. Shouldn't have given the bitch access to my bank account. My name is Mark Weller, I’m 34, I work the graveyard shift at a gas station, and I have done the worst thing possible. *3 days earlier* The station is empty at midnight. Most people are busy having lives and drinking to the good life. I hate them all. Night after night, I sit behind the counter selling gas and snack food and watch the security monitor until six in the morning. Now, I don’t work at a Shell or Exxon Station, nope! I work. I could see the small forge in the back corner, on its special ceramic insulated flooring. Happy, I flipped the lights off and stepped back into the office area.The second door from the open office area had a separate lock on it. I used my key and stepped into a short hallway. The first door on the right side of the hall was the restroom. I glanced inside to see a large counter and sink with a small shower stall and hanging space for coveralls. The toilet was on the other side of the shower. A. I slip my hand under it, my fingers feeling her soft and furry pubic hair. She gasps, quickly crossing her legs, denying me entry. A shaft of moonlight illuminates our faces, highly textured with our arousals. I look deep into her eyes, trying to reassure her with all the love i feel for her, silently imploring her to trust me completely. She takes a deep breath and uncrosses her legs, allowing me access to her most sacred treasure. Maintaining eye contact, i softly feel her wet slit, running.