“My father would like to know if you would enjoy a bit of Cabernet Franc? We have glasses. It is excellent wine – Chateau Troplong Mondot.” The ...escriptive phrase, meaningless to me, was trippingly pronounced in perfect French. The girl waited expectantly for Emily’s response.“It’s scarcely 11 in the morning,” Emily said. “Isn’t it a little early for wine?”“We are in the middle of the ocean,” the girl replied, “and in Paris, it is five o’clock.”“A glass of wine would be perfect,” I answered for. ......My tongue was burrowing as deep as I possibly could get. The shit pushing against my tongue was pushing me to the breaking point. Emily reached back and spread her ass as wide as she was able to and was holding herself up with her teeth on my cock. It hurt so much but felt so good. She grunted and pushed again. The head of the shit was forcing my tongue out of her and stretching the edges of the hole while slowly filling my mouth. I sucked on it like a cock. It was growing longer. The. She is Irish, you know. Perhaps you can say things in English that the PBSK won't understand."I knew that human rights there were almost non-existent, but it hadn't occurred to me they'd 'bug' the office of a Convent School Mother Superior.I went out after lunch and bought clothes. I dislike shopping for myself anyway; buying smalls for a teenage girl was cringe-inducing. But I did it; packets of panties, bras, jeans, tops; simple stuff rather than the up-market gear she was probably used to,. It was coming from the clothes hamper my wife used for her working clothes.Jennifer Wooten was a classmate in college. She was a sophomore, and I was taking a freshman-level philosophy class as an elective to complete my humanities requirement. I was a senior working on a double major in Finance and Business Management.I was not having any significant problems with my other classes, but this class was a mystery. Jennifer tapped me on the shoulder one morning as we were exiting the lecture.