Once back to the room she sent me to the shower (she has always had this thing about being super clean) and I did not argue. I hoped she would join me...but instead, I discovered as I stepped out of the shower, she had driven down the road and bought some more booze and ice. “I don’t trust you to behave while I shower, Bryan. So sit down in that chair and let me tie you up.” She then walked to her overnight bag and pulled out padded leather cuffs and smiled over at me. “Why look, somehow these. I pushed on it.“Yes!” the girl moaned, whimpering. “Do it!”My cock pressed on her cherry. It stretched before me, so elastic. She moaned. Her heat bled through her. It promised such rapture if I just thrust through her. I groaned, my pussy on fire. I had to be in her cunt.She arched her back, moaning. Her hymen was so thick. So strong. I thrust harder against her, putting my all into my hips. My tits heaved as her maidenhead stretched and stretched. Then it ripped.I plunged into her deflowered. What a delicious thought and idea. I removed them from under my breasts, though. The necklace was not intended for that look.His eyes followed me as I went to the walk-in closet and selected a floor-length, white sheer gown that closed only with a single clasp between the breasts. He met me at the mirror and took the gown from my hands and held it for me to slip on. He stood behind me, admiring my image as he deftly clasps it together. His hands briefly gliding over my breasts, then came to. And every night I prayed in bed, with my rosary under my pillow.At last, the day came, and I told my mom I was going to walk over to church.“What for, Cynthia?”“Just a visit.”“They’re hearing confessions this afternoon,” she said. “You might want to take the sacrament.”“OK.”Good. It’s her idea.“Is there something on your conscience?”“No. I’m just feeling devout.”“Feeling devout, huh?”So I would have to confess lying to my mom, too.Our church was built the year I was born. It’s supposed to feel.