The thrust into her, and its pleasure. The feeling of being filled, steadily, and the pleasure of the two together. The feeling of completeness buried...deep inside her/me/us.As I thrust slowly, slightly increasing the pace as we needed, besides the sensations and feelings I also felt the network of links, including the “dead end.” That end was seeking to connect where it should, but was having trouble, like it was undecided about something, if that is the right word, or couldn’t find the right. That was before the neighborhood got caught on the wrong side of the freeway and began to deteriorate.In the old days most of the congregation lived within a mile or so and many families walked to services, but when Pastor Paul, with his more dispersed flock, took the place over the city demanded the rest of the block be cleared for parking, much to Mom's disgust. Okay, so the neighborhood had fallen on hard times, but as she vociferously pointed out to the city council, it was people's homes. More

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