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He massaged and prodded them. I could feel myself beginning to get excited by this man’s exploration of my breasts. Eventually his hand began to move south. As he rubbed me through my underwear, I gasped.“Oh, you little slut. You’re wet.”“Please…you don’t have to do this…” I whispered, embarrassed and frightened that my body was giving into this intruder’s touch.“I know I don’t, but with a tight, wet cunt like yours just waiting to be taken, how can I resist?” And with that his fingers moved. He paid for the shoes and they headedfor the car and home. He was silent in the car thinking about his predicament. Hedidn't know what was going to happen. This was the worse day of hislife. They pulled into the garage and Carol told him to get his newclothes out and put them away. He got the dresses and went and hungthem up in his side of the closet. It was crowded but he got themall hung up. Carol came in and saw him putting them away. She said,"I think you better hang them in the spare. Barr walked to the front window of the chapel.“How many people out there are watching us?” he murmured. “Paolo wouldn’t run away – I’d bet my life on it.”Elmo walked out and started uncurling the garden hose.“Tina! Come help me water the gardens.”“Yessir, Padre.”As the thirteen year old took the sprayer-tipped hose from him, he said, “Remember what I’ve taught you about watering.”“Yessir. Is Paolo coming back?”“I hope so, Tina. I pray so.”“But you don’t think so, do you, sir?”Reverend Barr bit. It's a big house in woodlands in the north east cornerof Cheshire. It's rural but still only 20 minutes drive from the centre ofManchester. The grounds are big. Neighbours won't hear anything and folk aroundhere stay behind their own spiked fences and remote control gates unless they'reinvited in. Inside, as usual with this lot, it's a complete shambles. Furnitureupended, drawers turned out, remains of a meal, plates, glasses and cutleryspread across the living room floor. "Bit of a mess," says.
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