I Am Enjoying My Panic
He looked quizzical and wore the bishop's mitre - a delicate, intricate white hat meant to signify a fishes mouth. The man whom I assumed was Bertie was hopping away, trying to get his second foot into his pants, white backside pointed towards us, flaccid manhood still dripping. I looked around us and spotted a well dressed elderly gentleman with a dog collar and a notepad and pencil. But before going to see him I had to get an answer from the proverbial horse's mouth. I knelt down and held back the woman's long hair. She turned her head to gaze at me. "Tell me," I said simply. She smiled up at me. "Ezekiel 23:20," she replied. I was unfamiliar with this particular verse. "Bishop Burton promised us five good religious men each. As an offering of our bodies to God. To keep the Martian demons away." She looked at me for understanding. I nodded to her to continue. "I've always wanted to do something selfless for God. None of the other girls in church wanted to do it - so I. He laid back to open himself to her. “That’s right, cherub, time to get down close and personal.” He guided her head towards his swollen dick. Tentatively she kissed his shaft, thrilling to its firmness and allowing her lips to slide upwards towards its head. She saw his pre-cum starting to form at its tip and licked it away. A sweet taste, perhaps a little like apples? It was irresistible. Little by little she started to take him into her mouth, struggling to accommodate his thickness, but working on and off his now gleaming head until she was taking the full circumference between her lips. She saw his colour up close, and she liked what she saw. He watched his black dick starting to probe her pink lips. A pre-cursor of more to come? But time was on his side and he contented himself to wait and enjoy the little of his dick she could take into her mouth. She worked the head of his cock as best she could. It was so large that she struggled to breathe. It.
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