Every Sunday morning, Tracey would dress in her favourite blue floral dress and meet her girlfriends at church. She always looked forward to this; her religious experience seemed to be greater when her friends were there with her.
I remember very vividly one Sunday morning in June. I saw Tracey make the sign of the cross, on her knees, in her favourite blue floral dress.
“In nominee, patris, et filii, et spiritus sancti”
I finished her words.
I said “Amen” as my cock slid between her lips.
Tracey was a good catholic girl. Very good in fact. Her friends would not see Tracey on that Sunday morning in June. If only they could. I would let them watch, if they wanted to.