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“Yeah, it does seem pretty pristine, Father Fontane.” “Everett. Call me Everett. Do you mind if I call you Simon or would you prefer Father Dott? “Well, I’m not a priest anymore, which leads me to the question of why you called me here.” “Opportunity Simon. Opportunity.” He brushed back some of his white, cotton candy hair. “We’ll get to that. For now, let’s walk BDSM and be glad our eyes ain’t torched by perversions like in the city. Won’t see a lick of that here. Check the newspaper. Clean as a whistle.” They cum walked for several blocks amid storefronts that glistened with newness and people who greeted with smiles while children roamed freely without harm. “Here … church property. We’ll go to my office. Talk a bit til my counseling appointment.” He motioned for his visitor to have a anal seat and he fetish continued. “You cumshot see Simon, I can’t handle all of this. You’re what---43? I need help, especially with counseling.” “Father---I mean Everett, you know no diocese will take me back or let me counsel anyone.” I kicked off my shoes and pulled my fetish shirt over my head. If you're good I might let you out to enjoy the rest of cumshot the day." ‘Mmm, oh yes Issy don’t stop, BDSM I’m com- oh yes! She sensed a subtext to their conversation, but couldn’t discern what they were alluding to. Grace concentrated and bore down on the intruder piercing her silken folds, clenching it more tightly inside her. Her pussy lips glistened in the soft light. Kevin stooped down so he was face to face with me. His anal whole body was tight like he didn’t want to say something. She cum made soft sounds and moved with me. My hands continued exploring one of my favorite areas of women’s bodies. Though, to be honest, pretty much everything you do does turns me on. “See?” She asked me. “I’m not breaking down in tears, am I?