I softly whisper into her ear as she closes her eyes, her head cuddled into my chest with the top of her head nestled under my chin. As the nightingal... begins to sing to its lover in the dark of night, I softly whisper words of romance. I softly whisper words of caresses with a touch so gentle and soft as if I’m touching with soft feathers. I softly caress her fiery skin building up the hidden passions that she has checked for so long. My touch lingers and tenderly glides over her hot body like. They would leave looking sheepish, trying to sneak out un-noticed, embarrassed, wiping their lips & trying to hide the staines on their dresses.Father Dean was in his mid 50's, a thick set man with a wide smile, an irish accent & from the outine in his trousers, some quite large man parts.A new, younger, trainee priest, Father Jeremy, arrived in summer. He was fresh out of university, he had handsome good looks, a healthy fit sculptured body & an amazing smile. He and father Dean got on quite. More

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