”“Why? They both know the general situation. Laughing at the bishop’s joke made sense; talking nicely to each other scares me!”“Good luck, M...key! I’ll say nice things at your funeral!”“I told Clarissa we should run away together! You know, go to medical school in some foreign country.”“Well, that’s ONE way to keep from getting killed!” Liz laughed. “And from getting laid!”I smiled, though I was happy Liz couldn’t see it, because if Liz really knew how Clarissa was thinking, and what we had. Joe's black trousers. When Fr. Joe is convinced I have beenpurged of evil, he allows me to get up, and then I have to kneel before him,and clean the thicky, sticky jizz from his stained trousers. Fr. Joe alwaysenjoys this a great deal, as do I. Now I stand up, and Fr.Joe and I hug one another tightly, our hot tongues dueling it out in eachothers' hot mouths. My hand rubs the solid bulge behind the fly of Fr. Joe'sclerical trousers, as he rubs and squeezes my sore asscheeks. . More

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