Heather disliked going back to church immensely. It was always an endless barrage of questions, “How’s school going?” “Graduated yet?” “Go... a fella in your life?” —it was always the same. This time had been no different.The service that day had finally come to an end and Heather was only a few feet from the door when she heard a voice.“Heather!” the voice shouted. “Heather! It’s been so long!”Of course, she knew the voice as soon as she heard it. It was her old youth minister, Bob. She closed. I hop off the couch, stick the lollipop behind my cheek, and come to greet you. I take your laptop bag, and put it on your desk. As I am doing that, you toe off your shoes. I return to you and put your shoes away. Then I step behind you and pull your coat off you. I turn around and step on tiptoe to reach for a hanger. You grin as you watch my skirt slide up my ass as I reach. I fetch the hanger, place your coat on it, and have to reach again to hang your coat. Once these tasks are done, you. "You'll be there, right?" He blew out a frustrated breath, never listening for her answer. "I don't know what's going to happen, but they're serious. I swear to fucking Christ, ‘Raine," he blathered, whipping himself into a frenzy. "I don't know what their deal is, what they want. Money, no doubt; fucking Union thugs. Shaking me down for membership fees or something!" Images floated through his head, memories of Lorraine as he’d pulled the gag from her face, shoving his cock into her mouth to. I jump at the slaps, feeling the warmth spread through the cheeks and I eagerly wait for more. You don’t slap me with your hands though, instead I feel the sting of the belt, one on each cheek followed by your tender caress. I shiver at your touch, but then you push my legs apart as far as the panties around my knees will allow. Your fingers move between my red cheeks and find my ball sack and you wrap your fingers around each ball stroking and then pinching each one. This makes me jump and I.