.. come see what you have done to me today."She put her hands on his hips and touched the tip of him with her lips, slowly spreading them open and dow... his length in the way she knew he liked it, her tongue lapping at his head as she sucked him to the base and up again, repeating the motion over and over. Her eyes never leaving his, knowing she was his and no one else's.She flattened her tongue and pushed further down, tasting him like he was the coldest ice cream on a hot day. Her soft, wet. Anyway, God took care of it. The bastard died later of prostate cancer. Charlotte was sad, remembering the good times they had, I wanted to cheer and shit on his grave. Charlotte was mine and I was hers, good times, bad times, whatever, from day one to day last. Priscilla said, ‘Let me show you the choir loft, where we sing.’ ‘All right,’ I said, and we went to the back and up the circular wrought-iron stairway. The choir loft was quite generous. Most churches barely gave the choristers room. More

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