Stacy wrapped her tiny hand around my cock awed by the fact that her fingers could barely encircle the shaft. She started slowly stroking me as if she...was afraid to hurt me. I put my hand over hers showing her the rhythm that I liked and that she could grip me tighter. She followed my instruction and soon she was giving me a quite satisfactory handjob. She had scooted forward on the sofa now sitting on the edge with her legs spread wider. Her other hand was still shoved deep in her shorts and I. I didn’t want to come off sounding as if I was criticizing her mourning process, either, so I decided to just let it ride for the time being.It all came to a head on Easter Sunday morning. Michael’s sermon sang the praises of the joy of the Resurrection, the hope that it brings, the promise for the future that it brings, and the encouragement it can bring to our lives, the promise that life in Christ is greater even than death.It was at these words that Lisa grabbed her small purse, stood up,. More

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