The stained glass windows depicted saints bleeding and crucified in many creative ways. It felt like home, at least to my blood it did. To my corpse b...ain it just felt creepy, but I'm a creep myself so that was okay."Hello," I called. "I'm looking for a priest of some kind?" I'm a priest," said the hunchback."Not you," I said disdainfully, pursing my blood-red lips."Why not me?" the hunchback asked."I want the kind of priest that slays vampires with holy water," I said. "Not the kind that rings. His image was the only one that could get me off this way. I thrust my fingers further into my hot dripping cunt. My toes curled, and my legs tensed ready for sweet release. Hearing my labored breathing and the whispers of his name that I always chanted threw me over the edge. I vaguely heard the front door slam shut as my hips rose and my back bowed with the last waves of this exquisite orgasm. From the vale of my afterglow I heard, "Hey Mom, what are you making me for dinner? I have practice. As he’s getting in I extend my hand to shake hands, he takes my hand but doesn’t shake he just holds on to it as he gets in the car. He kind of gets in the car headfirst with his knee on the seat and he leans over to my side of the car. Still holding my hand he pulls me toward him and his face is inches from mine. Then without a word he moves close and gives me a soft gentle kiss on the lips. He pulls away a bit and then goes in for another kiss only this time I feel his tongue pushing thru my. Without a free hand to change the channel, I am subjected to one of those irritating infomercials. This one is hawking DVDs with clips from the old Ed Sullivan Show. I vaguely remember hearing something about that show from my parents. All I know is that Letterman now occupies Sullivan’s old studio. The TV screen is filled with a grainy old clip of the Beatles… damn, McCartney looks so young… nice haircut, dude. Next is a comedy bit… some goofy puppet with a foreign accent. Then a couple of.