He was all for me assisting with church activities. If only he knew the vicar’s wife was a fucking lesbian in sheep’s clothing. If only he knew I ...as too. I never knew that I would enjoy pussy licking so much, but I did. I fucking love it and I will have to invite Dorothy over to the farmhouse so that we can discuss, at length, more church matters. I’ll be buying a strap-on before she comes around though.But not on a Friday; I think the Amazon delivery man would have a heart attack if he found. When it was built in the 1930's it must have been impressive, so different from the flint and brick cottages which formed the bulk of the older properties in the village. It was now very distressed as the old man living there hadn't been able to look after it. The garden was overgrown and the walls were green with moss and grey with peeling paint; a far cry from the brilliant white it would have been when it was built.The old man who lived there, Mr Sommers, was a recluse; no-one really knew. "Go to the front room," I told her as I drove my blade through the moaning Hessian's chest. I lifted the other's head and cut his throat and then followed her after locking the back door and dropping the bar down in its keepers. Blood was covering the pine floor by then.The front door crashed open and a big Redcoat spun around to face me. I thrust my bayonet into his gut. He screamed as I carved him open and then I was down with two men on me, taking blows and hearing grunting, some of it mine.. She licked the pussy juice off her hand and sucked her fingers. She took them out of her mouth with a wet plop sound and brought it back to her side. Her exhaustion was claiming her and she only bothered to cover herself with her blanket (hiding the skirt and panties, too) and fell asleep.*** She woke up early the next day and turned on the TV while she got changed for school like she usually did. A plain brunette woman came on and announced that a fire had ravaged the gym and west wing of.