There wasn’t much else for Molly to consider, as John’s cock was right there, pointing rigidly at her parted lips, the thin layer of pre-cum on th... mushroom head drying by her breath. Her mouth watered, as well as her pussy.“John, no,” she whispered.The response was almost physically painful for John to hear. He needed this so bad. He was so close. So damn close. His hands slid up along Molly’s shoulders, though he had no idea of what intention he had in moving them. They stopped at the back of. ..”I watched him pray. I didn’t understand a word of it, because it’s not even modern Arabic and I don’t understand half of that. Like Catholic prayers, they’re convoluted, stale sentences. I don’t know if they speak of peace, or compassion, or if they contain a request for guidance, but if they do then the meaning has long since been lost on those who speak them.Seeing him there, on his knees, reminded me of Sinterklaas. That’s a Dutch celebration, involving a bishop. I’ll have told you about. More

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