He held it up in front of himself, looking in the mirror. “Would it suit me?” he said.I stopped hunting for the dress I was going to give him.“T...y it on.”He stripped off everything except his suspenders and stockings and stood in front of the mirror. You might think it looks odd, a man standing there in suspenders and stockings, but not to me. Standing behind him and a little to one side I could see his lovely bum framed by the suspenders and in the mirror his steadily hardening cock,. ”“It’s not ’shrooms is it?” A sacred hallucinogen, maybe with a name like psilocybe baphometis, would at least explain the tattoos writhing over the bodies on the balconies. “I don’t think I could handle tripping right now.”“No, it is not ‘shrooms’,” he said, rather amused, and then turned his gaze back to his fellow believers. “It is come.”“You mean, as in spunk?”“Every Disciple except myself has contributed their ejaculate.”“Every Disciple?” I asked, thinking that at least half the population. More

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