I pick up the plain wooden cross from its desktopholder and brush aside Fr. Joe's black shirttails. My one arm encircling hisnarrow waist to hold him ...irmly in place, I start paddling Fr. Joe's palelittle rump with the wooden cross. His small buns quiver and bounce with eachstinging blow of the wooden cross. He mutters in Latin, in between his pleasfor forgiveness, as I continue to thrash his small priestly ass, theGregorian chants on the cd making me even hornier. Soon,. No, what lies just beyond horny, aroused? Wet?I’m wet.No time to deal with that now. The phone goes back to the nightstand. I exchange it for a note card found on my pillow yesterday when I checked in.One complimentary session: Mindful Meditation with Jade. 11:00 AM.An exaggerated sigh escapes me. My throbbing pussy conspires with my fingers in an attempt to keep me in this bed. To delve into my damp, dewey folds, rip the sheets from the mattress and thrash till the pillows are strewn about in. More

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