It is magnificent.The priest's free hand pulled her right butt-cheek to the side, exposing her sphincter. “Beg me to use your ass, slut. Beg me to r...am your filthy hole. Only degradation will satiate your wanton lusts.”“Yes! Fuck my ass!”“While your husband watches?”“Absolutely! Please, please, fuck my ass, Father. I need it. I need to be filled. I'm so empty without your cock. Vacant.”“You are such a whore!”“I am!” Abigail wiggled her butt. Sorry, sorry, sorry. I need this, Damien. I need. Something had happened. Someone had added to my story.I started reading it. Mom had found my story in the computer and read the story as far as I had gotten with it. She had added her version and thoughts about the story so far.---------------------------Who ever reads this, needs to understand the other side of this story. How it started and why.A mom has needs and they weren’t being fulfilled until my son started turning into a ‘little man.’ A man in my life was looming right in front of me.. Leaving the bar, I headed home where I pried open our bedroom window and made it inside. Downloading the incriminating pictures and video to my laptop, I proceeded to run off a copy of each picture and laid them on our bed. Then I packed up my few possessions, I wanted nothing that was 'ours', and headed to a buddies house. After I showed him the video, he just said, "I told you, man." He told me I could stay as long as I wanted.My cell phone started ringing nonstop at about 2am. I'd forgotten. Ever. ***But Chantel wasn't watching her Henrietta, not entirely. Not focused. Something felt wrong. It itched at her, her seventh sense scratching at her, digging at her mind. The club was happening like it should. She could see that. Everyone was either having a good time or being made to give a good time. Her dears were in the cum pit, except Yolanda who was doing a reasonable job of licking her pussy. Money was changing hands, and portions of that, large portions of that, were dripping into.