The Art Of Cleansing

“I have to see it sooner or later,” I repliedThe priest revealed a hand mirror from inside the First Aid bag. He was sceptical on handing it over to me, a few seconds later he placed the object into the palm of my hand. I gradually raised the mirror to look at my reflection. Once I had a full view of my face, my vision went to the cut on my cheek. Bringing the mirror closer, I analysed the deep slash which began below my eye, going down to my cheek. Dropping the mirror onto my lap, I turned my head away and began to weep.It was the sound of the creaking door that got my attention. The priest was leaving the room. I had to stop him. “Wait! Please, don’t leave!” I yelled.He came to the side of the bed, putting his hand on my shoulder. “I know how you feel. It’s not a very nice sight to look at, but once it heals, it will not look so bad. The cut was not too deep. You will hardly notice it in a year.” He tried to convince me.“I want to apologise, father. For my ill-mannered actions, all. Gwen must have noticed my trembling as she kissed me delicately on the lips and whispered 'Don't worry . . . .'.I felt Gwen's nails on my thighs again, this time on the back of them as my skirt was wiggled down and the ribbon of my thong pulled to one side, exposing the end of the plug that Gwen had lubricated into me as we dressed . . . Then came perhaps the most erotic sensation thus far . . . Gwen ran her nails down where the seams would have been on my stockings and placed the tenderest of kisses on the backs of my calves and knees: 'You are going to love this honey . . . 'I heard her pad away across the floor and then stop, a soft outbreath told me that she had knelt down on the cushion and so, here we are . . . and we seem to be waiting for something . . . I feel amazing and I am teetering on the edge of going crazy with excitement . . .We don't wait long. I hear the door open and feel a large and powerful presence enter the room. A smell reaches me above the gentle waft of the.
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