My gaze never failed to linger on the carved image of St. Joseph, whose name matched my middle name and who had been chosen as the patron saint of my ...onfirmation. Not as herculean as St. Christopher, he was a long legged figure with a long beard, seated at his carpenter's bench with a tacking hammer in one strong hand, his other arm draped around the shoulders of the peasant boy Jesus, who clung absurdly dependant at his side. I studied Joseph's face interminably, striving to imagine what it. When his pelvis pressed against mine, he stopped. I finally let my breath out and a tear escaped from each eye. Chucky wiped them away and asked if I was ok. I nodded and he slowly started to pull out again. The intense burning subsided and as he began to slowly stroke I felt an amazing pleasure. Oh man…this feels amazing baby. Your pussy. Its…oh man.. Chucky was suddenly inarticulate but I understood why. I felt an orgasm begin to build. He stroked faster and harder. I felt his cock swell and. More

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