It was a nice gesture, and I could appreciate it. She was looking at me while her pouty lips were pumping up and down the length of the shaft. Looking...mom in the eyes made my balls instinctively throb hard and fire several more spurts into her mouth, but she didn't mind. I saw motions in her throat, and her lips kept moving.I was feeling warm and blushed all over when it was finally over. The ache was gone and it had turned into tiredness, but also into a feeling of pleasant calm. Mom didn't. Alone in her cell Sister Kristina lit candles at either end of the narrow shelf over her cot. She shook out the match and disposed of it. Bathed in their yellow glow she unfastened her black habit, stripped it off and laid it neatly on the cot. Naked save for her veil and a cruel, barbed cilice wrapped tightly around her waist and under her crotch, she knelt at the worn prayer stool and closed her eyes. After a long period of silent meditation, she took a knotted scourge from under the stool. More

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