Konrad was indeed the curate of a museum, but the museum was only a front for an international drug trafficking cartel of heroin.Some of the artefacts...were real, whereas most of them were plaster casts and painted over to look genuine. The casts were also hollow and able to contain many kilograms of heroin. The last two deliveries had been intercepted by Interpol. As they never arrived for Konrad to process, he had to find a way to get instant money as the underworld demanded a very quick. Then I took the head back in my mouth. As I stroked and bobbed my head up and down in rhythm, I felt his cock grow harder, his head barely fitting in my mouth. I pulled back enough to use the tip of my tongue around the edge of the head, occasionally blowing across the tip, causing him to jerk up. I reached over to grab the small long vibrator, and I turned it on. I placed it underneath his shaft, right above the ball sac. My husband looked down at that, and said it felt really good. So I left. When I opened my eyes, I glanced over to see him recording me with his cell phone. 'What the fuck, man! How long have you been recording me?'He said 'shut up faggot', grabbed 2 pairs of my wifes panties, and then got out of my car. A moment later I was sitting there, alone, with the cum soaked panties still around my deflating cock. His car was disappearing in the distance as I started to get dressed. What the fuck just happened?As I drove home my head was spinning. He made me wear panties,. ”“You were a TV evangelist?” Logan wrinkled his nose. Disgust drove impulsive words out of his mouth he would never have imagined saying to a stranger.“Holy shit. You might be the first person I have met who truly belongs in Hell, and in the realm of Lust no less. What did you do? Diddle one too many young believers?”If Logan’s harsh accusations angered or offended him, Alan’s expression did not show it. The bitter smile remained fixed in place. His eyes were haunted with knowledge but did not.