After meeting Shane, Jim has thrown himself even deeper into work looking for ways to stay off the big man’s radar. The guy does him no harm, he’s just…too beautiful. And he seemed so familiar after all because after checking, Jim now knows it's not us him, yeah, Shane bears a striking resemblance to someone. To someone another version of himself knew a long time ago. To someone he may have loved but now only remembers from reading about him.
His attraction to Shane exacerbates the fact that Jim doesn’t have a completely straight sexuality and is constantly hiding his attraction to other men, even when he has no real interest in anyone. He figures it will be less complicating if he didn’t openly go about sinning in that particular way. Everyone knows men of the cloth are still just men, they all have their cross to bare and it wouldn’t help anyone if clergyman went around indulging their desires for their whole town to see.
But he is trying to stay occupied. After what happened Monday, Jim tried to chalk it up to sometimes you see a small thing and it just gets in your head and before you know, it whittles down your resolve and you just need to give in. Jim had rarely been driven to such extremes by another person.
Back when he first got out from under Hydra’s thumb, it was just that he’d get the random boner anybody gets and instead of ignoring it, he’d just quit whatever he was doing and go play with it for a while. He’d been frozen & asleep a long time and when you’re a prisoner nobody sees a need to really take care of you. As for sex drive, having your entire being violated at every turn will kill it faster than anything.
So a lot of his needs went neglected, including his desire and if he did feel it at times, he just took what he could get while away on mission. He didn’t do what he did out of desperation, it was more because he could do it at all. He began being able to get close enough to people to want be able to have sex but, for a while he really only expressed his desire most at the times where he could just turn the tv off, shut the ringer on the side of the phone off and just have a little ‘Jimtime’ anytime he felt the need.
Jim found it a hard time Monday to get some sleep. He strained and struggled for hours to resist the urge to jerk off in his tiny bed at the rectory. It was so very hard. He’s almost shocked at the reaction to Shane he’s having. Is he falling for the guy? If so, he can see how. The man has got a lot going on.
He doesn’t know what it is, but Shane get’s his motor running like nobody’s business. The man has got body for days. ‘Sculpted’ is the only right word for people like Shane. Even his hands, strong looking yet graceful & delicate for all their masculinity. And so help Jim, if he didn’t know thighs like those were just as good to ride as the rest of a guy, he’s a goddang kangaroo.
Sometimes Shane would lean up to grab something in the stacks behind the librarian’s desk and seconds later Jim would walk by the front window of the library just in time to see those coiled muscles shifting under Shane’s shirt and pants as he lowered himself from tiptoe, bringing a book down in one hand then turning around, spotting Jim through the window and waving.
He bumped into him at the butcher and had to talk to him, which was worse because trying to not stare the lids off his beautiful eyes while also trying to not fantasize about Shane as he was talking to him was way harder than Jim thought it could be.
It doesn’t help that Shane is the sweetest, funniest, most helpful, eager friend anyone could ask for. Jim knows he’s being stupid, knows he should either say something or stay away from Shane but, there isn’t really anywhere to hide in small town USA. Which meant eventually he must speak with Shane alone.
Which is how he ended up helping Chantoya Fanchon, the local seamstress, clean out the old workspace her husband Edward left behind when he passed 2 years ago.
She’d had a hard time asking for help, she seemed to feel some of the ladies around town had bad ideas about her being alone with one of their men and thought maybe Jim could ask around for her.
He had said, “I’m sure you’ve heard about my enhancements, I could do the work. Don’t worry about it anymore, Chantoya. How’s noon tomorrow sound?”
“Oh, that will be perfect! Thank you, Father Jim!” She replied and obvious weight lifting from her shoulders. The worry left her face and her eyes cleared of their anxiety. Jim really liked that he could help her feel better.
Chantoya picked Jim up & they’d gotten an early start and only had one hold up, the basement storage door seemed to have twisted in it’s frame and refused them access to the room that she needed his help with the most.
Jim apologized in advance and then ripped the door off it's hinges before setting it aside with his left hand. It was a big old house so he didn't mind checking out the door frame and supports inside the room. After, he deemed it safe to wade in and begin the process of cleaning out all the power tools, materials, and supplies.
The work goes slow, which is fine with Jim. He doesn’t mind helping Chantoya decide what to give away, what can be sold and what can go to scrap.
Over time they talked about music, baseball, the Batman TV series, Alfred Hitchcock Presents. They agree to watch those shows each week so they have someone to talk to about them.
Around 2 pm she makes him some tuna and crackers for a snack and when the sun starts to get low, she suggests he stay for dinner.
He at first says no but when he sees a bit of a sad look in her eye, he realizes she would feel awful if she couldn’t at least feed him for all the work.
Jim says, “On second thought, what could it hurt to get to eat with someone else for once?”
“I just didn’t feel right asking any of the men from around town…sometimes people treat a single woman strangely in places like this.” says Chantoya. She can be a very direct person once she’s comfortable with you, which makes Jim like her all the more.
“Well, Chantoya, we welcome anyone to ask for any help from the church. As a clergyman, this is what I signed up for, to lend a helping hand.” Jim says starting up the basement stairs behind her.
He can’t help but notice her statuesque figure. There are curves everywhere, which she tries to hide with frumpy tops and flowing skirts. With a v-cut blouse and slim a-line skirt on her shape is more apparent today.
“I’m very grateful Father, there was no way to get the lifting done and I just don’t have money to pay a moving crew or some such. Come on and wash up, we can have that early supper before you head back to St. Raye’s, Father.” Chantoya says.
“Sounds great.” He answers.
He makes his way up to the bathroom on the second floor of the little house, and therein washes his face and hands, uses the toilet and re-adjusts his collar which is messy with dust. Maybe he should opt for a plastic one. He smirks, left cheek pulling up as he shrugs. It doesn’t really make a difference. He’s the kind of person who gets things dirty without even noticing, and his arm can get fabric caught between the plates, shredding up his shirts without him seeing it till later, which he tries to combat by preemptive means, but either way, it’s too late for this collar.
Before leaving he pushes his glasses up on his nose. Their only purpose is to make him appear older and more mundane. It’s just enough change from his former appearance to keep people from focusing on his old self, his old life.
He has little to no memories before realizing he wasn’t killing for the good of the world and seeking help from the FBI to get out of Hydra. All he knows is back then, something changed him. US intelligence seems to believe Hydra had been experimenting on him since 1947 at the latest, trying to make their own Anti-Captain America, had, in fact, used him because of who he was to Steve Rogers. It was they who told him who he even was. He’s read about who he was before and can’t recall any of it. With Steve dead, all he has is who he is now.
It’s been discovered he has nearly peak human condition, to the point that he processes input faster, metabolizes energy faster, can outrun speeding cars, has an immune system that works 5x the normal rate and with his augmented limb, they still don’t know it’s limitations. He is nearly super-human and people are afraid of things that are different. So Jim chooses not to use his heightened sense of hearing and purposefully moves in a slightly less coordinated manner than it appears he has been trained to as a reassurance to others, he is no threat, he’s just a guy trying to get back to a life less extraordinary.
He returns to the lower half of the house and the dining room. Chantoya has made two six inch meatloaf with ketchup topping, a bowl of salad and mashed potatoes and gravy, a pitcher of iced tea with sprigs of mint floating in it.
“I hear you have quite the appetite, Father. I made a lot so you can eat your fill and take some back to the rectory.” She says making their plates and pacing his along the table. It’s a big table for a family & it’s sad thinking of her sitting here alone with food laid out, eating quietly alone in the evening gloom.
“You must live by that saying about the way to peoples hearts, huh? Everything looks delicious, Chantoya. Would you like to lead us in grace?"Jim asks. It’s his job, but he’s noticed people like to interact. If you give them a chance to be apart of anything they most often take it and feel good for it as well. He really likes Chantoya and would like to make her feel nice. Helping people feel better about themselves is another plus side of being a priest.
She recites out loud and he in his mind, "Bless us, Oh Lord, and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ, Our Lord. Amen.”
He eats 6 slices of meatloaf, three servings of potatoes and a bowl of salad with blue cheese crumbles and a bit of the sweet onion dressing she’s served it with. He also drinks two glasses of the cool refreshing tea.
She herself eats two slices of the meatloaf, a serving and a half of salad and a serving of potatoes, sipping her one glass of tea.
They talk books, board and card games and the fact that yes, priests can drink alcohol. He drinks some Saturdays and Thursdays at the Starkly’s Sports Pub. Because of his enhancements, he rarely feels the stuff unless drank in quantities that if drunk in public make people very nervous about how often he drinks like that. But it’s good to chat with the locals in a less professional setting sometimes.
“Maybe after dessert you can have a nightcap that you can feel. I’ll remain designated driver and get you back to the rectory shame-free, Father.” Chantoya says a small smile on her lips. She tries to imagine Jim shitfaced and belting out power ballads down at Starkly’s on karaoke night. It’s hilarious to think about because it’s possible.
Some of the other things she thinks about him are less funny and are more…on the sensual side. He has very educated hands, she’s known since first shaking hands with him. You can just tell sometimes in the way people move their fingers if they are confident about what their touching and handling, or if they think they are out of their depth.
Jim touches things and people like he knows them inside and out. It’s very intriguing. Like he’s had many years experience of manipulating objects and bodies with expertise care. Which she supposes is true if he really is the old assassin, the Winter Soldier. This might have scared one other than her, but she’s used to big tough men who are like puppies on the inside. Jim has used his hands to hurt people in the past but he doesn’t do it anymore. This is all Chantoya needs to know about him. But if the stuff about his profession is true the stuff about his Enhancements all of them are true too. The handsome shy man sitting across from her is old enough to be her Pop. She’s trying to let it sink in but it’s just too fantastical. Men pushing 70 don’t spend the day ripping doors out of walls and carrying things it takes four men to move with one hand.
“I might take you up on that. Not every day I get to unwind that far. It is Thursday.” Jim replies, thinking, 'Eh, no one will think too much about it.’
Who knows, maybe they can fool around a bit tonight. They’re both single and though he has a vow of celibacy, sex can still be had infrequently. There just needs to be discretion about the act, whom with and when. He didn’t take on her request for that reason, but he’s thinking about it now.
Looking into her large dark brown eyes he could see, yes, many women in town would be worried about such a youthful, intelligent and poised woman alone in a house on the edge of town. She has the kind of beauty a lot of middle-aged women are after with their youth creams and treatments, hers are features classical, timeless and natural. She wears her hair in soft coiffed curls floating about her head, their dark coils shining and lustrous. He couldn’t help but feel a little attracted to her at the moment. And if he’s reading this right, she’s got some feelings for him as well.
Throughout the day they had shared some slightly flirty banter and from her body language, he thought she was quite open to him being in close proximity which sometimes translates to that person wanting to be touched by the other. He guessed if he had an opening he’d make a clear advance and ask if she wanted to get closer.
His eyes catch on her earlobes with their tiny gold hoops and her unintentional decolletage caused by the springy fabric of her top. He startles himself by having an image flash to mind: His metal hand pulling down her top to free her breasts as he nibbles at her collar bone. Telling himself to “Slow down, Slick!”, he let the image go.
As dinner winds down she retrieves a tray with dessert, a chocolate pudding with a bowl of whipped cream and maraschino cherries, two bowls, two spoons and a shot glass. Chantoya also brings also a bottle of bourbon.
Jim gets up and takes the tray and sets it down. “Have a seat, Chantoya, you’ve done a lot today, too.”
He begins to fill her bowl with pudding swirling the spoon over it with flare giving it a professional look. He dollops whipped cream and adds a cherry. He sets the bowl down for her and then takes two shots and makes his own.
Instead of returning to the other end of the table, he sits in the chair to her right, along the side of the table. He pushes up his glasses and they hold his hair in place like an alice band. He pours and drinks two more double shots.
“I hope I..I’m not being rude to ask…it’s just I’ve known you a while now and I’ve always wondered… How does your arm work? I hope this isn’t too personal.” Chantoya asks, her demeanor shifting toward tenderness.“If that’s not something you want to share, I’ll understand, Father Jim.”
“Well, from what I remember, I’ve had at least two others.” Jim holds out his silver hand, flexing his fingers, turning it from front to back, looking at it with mild interest. “The first two were automata and used the energy of some experimental substance. As I understand, this is connected to something like a computer in the end of my flesh which translates nerve stimulation to input that tells it what I’m trying to do. This one is my third (or fourth arm ever, if that’s how you see it). It runs on bioelectricity and has a rechargeable fuel cell made of lithium ion, which is just a newer form of battery.” He makes a shrug like gesture and drops his hand back down to the bottle, he pours and takes two more shots.
Chantoya takes a bite of her pudding nodding thoughtfully. After swallowing she says, “I see. Is it…is it like…your first arm? Do you really feel, can it hurt or get cold?”
He looks at Chantoya for a long moment.
He knocks back two more shots with his right hand and places the shot glass on the table again.
Jim scoots forward on his chair, takes his left hand and curls in his other fingers and leaving his thumb sticking up. He sticks it into Chantoya’s dessert, twirling his thumb getting a fat dollop of whipped cream and chocolate pudding on it. Without knowing Jim bites his lower lip with his left canines as he does this. He looks at it and then looks into her eyes. He leans further toward her, half standing and rests his right hand on the back of her chair.
She watches him with a slow open lipped smile coming over her face. She looks into his eyes which are just this side of greenish-blue. Chantoya remains seated waiting for what he’s going to do next.
He rubs the sweet creams first over her upper lip then lower by circling her mouth in a counterclockwise motion with his finger. At first, she seems a tad surprised but quickly opens her mouth in an 'o’ shape, warming up to this more intimate delivery of the confection, which he rubs over and over for a few seconds feeling the soft yielding of her plump lips, then he pushes his thumb into her mouth. As he does he opens his own mouth watching her lips accept his finger he lets out a quiet gasp ”Aaahhh…”.
Her eyes drift closed and when she sucks off the pudding and cream he gasps loud, pants out and inhales a hissing breath in over his lower lip. He pulls his finger forward then pushes in again feeling her soft wet hot mouth tightening around his thumb. He twirls his thumb around her tongue. Jim stares at her mouth, his shaft begins to thicken and he feels the blood pulsating, in it a low rumble of bliss emanating outward.
He slowly pulls his thumb from her caressing lips and bends down to her. Chantoya tilts her head back and he teasingly licks the delicious custard away from her sensitive and swelled lips before kissing her deeply, his tongue petting hers.
When he pulls away he says “Is this ok? I don’t want you to feel you have to do anything you don’t want to.”
With her eyes still closed she says, “Woo! Uh, yes, I’m fine with this. But…aren’t you celibate?” She lets her head fall back to forward position and opens her eyes and straitening her back as she sits up in her chair.
Jim leans away, takes his seat again and says, “Not right now. Did you think I could feel that?”
“Yes. And if you keep going on this way, I’ll have to give you a whole lot more to feel.” Chantoya says with a tone of mischief.
“Not before I give it to you first, sugar.” Jim says. He dips two fingers in his own pudding and gets up once more.
He kneels on the floor in front of Chantoya, His ass rests on is heels and she can see his growing cock pressing on the inseam of his pants. Starting on the left side of her neck, slowly draws his fingers down her neck, along her collar and down to her cleavage sliding his fingers between her warm breasts. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her forward to the edge of her seat. He licks and sucks at the side of her neck, licks just behind her ear lobe and sucks on the lobe itself. She tosses her head back moaning in a quiet voice,“Uh-huhm, yeah, ahh..!”
He places a lone cherry in her cleavage and begins using his tongue to manipulate it up along the trail of pudding, sucking around the cherry, licking pudding from her smooth soft skin, his tongue flicking to keep the cherry moving. He releases her waist and presses her breast together. Jim digs his tongue between their warm squishy flesh licking hungrily at the pudding buried deep betwixt them. He reaches up to get the bottle of bourbon and bowl of pudding to put it on the floor beside him. He licks and kisses the top parts of her breast which can be reached through the top of her shirt.
“Oooh, Father!” Chantoya cries panting and squirming in his embrace.
He sits back on his heels and uses his metal hand to pull her left breast up and out of her bra and shirt, stretching the collar of her shirt downward. He dips his fingers in the bowl again, and slathers her nipple with the chocolate whip. He massages her nipple as she quivers under his hand, the nipple hardening in her arousal.
He positions himself so her left leg is between his and begins to press his hard cock against her shin and ankle. She watches his hips rotate as he rolls them, riding her leg the way a woman will ride a thigh. His crotch is so warm she can feel the heat through his pants.
Jim leans close again and sucks her nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking pudding from it. He takes another cherry, this time in his mouth nibbling and sucking on it with her nipple half in his mouth, moaning himself, a low quiet “Uuummph! Uhhmph!” as he humps her leg. It’s a very canine like gesture and it seems this doesn’t escape him as he seems a bit wild in this moment. Chantoya is sure he’s the type who likes to think outside the box when it comes to such thiings and finds this exciting.
He begins raising himself up and down on his knees as he presses his cock against her leg, rubbing hard holding her leg between his with his right hand. He feels the smooth curve of her calf, the skin so soft he could cry. He opens his mouth wide over the nipple, massaging it’s sensitive surface with the length of his tongue.
He lets go, breathing heavy and stands again. He has pudding on his chin and cheeks and his lips glisten with saliva. He pushes her shirt up and over her head and unsnaps her bra with his metal hand. He helps her pull it off. He takes one of her hands in each of his and guides her to press her tits toward each other, creating a hollow against her breastbone. She watches him pour a shot there, then he sits back down on his heels again. He slowly sips the shot making as much slurping and smacking noise as possible.
Once done, he scoops a hand full of his dessert out of the bowl and massages it over one breast, using it like a thick lubricant, his slick metal sliding around on her breast, the chill creamy textures exciting him all the more. He takes another hand full and covers the other with it, squishing it in his hot soft fingers, he rubs his thumb over her nipple in a back and forth flicking motion his hand covered in the pudding whipped cream mix. He massages her breasts, squishing them between his fingers, rubbing them in circular motions.
“Huh, ah! Jim, you’re teasing me so much, I need more!” Chantoya says, in a voice high with desperation.
“After I eat dessert…"He says with a smile licking his lips.
Tipping his head forward he begins to eat the dairy dessert off of her body, licking, kissing and biting mouthfuls of pudding off her, rubbing his face between her tits, getting chocolate in his hair and all over his face. It gets him so hard defiling her in such a playful way like this and getting so dirty himself only serves to further arouse him.
"Baby, I’m so fucking nasty, can you handle it? I wanna do bad things with you. You wanna do them with me?” He says, gasping and moaning between her breast.
“Oooh, my god! You’re so profane when you drink, Father!” Chantoya laughs, taking his head with both hands and pulling him upright to a deep tongue filled kiss.
He sticks his tongue in her mouth and I can taste the alcohol. She sucks his tongue as one would a cock, bobbing her head. I am inside her, feeling his hands on my body as if hers were my own. They have no idea I’m here. He can’t see me in her eyes, she can’t feel my presence in her mind. She trails her fingers through his hair, she bunches it up in her fist. It feels thick and silken in some places, in others stiff and sticky.
I passively possess her body, not taking her control away or enthralling him. I have not exercised my powers at all, this day. I just got off work went home stepped into the portal there to visit him and when I saw potential, I slipped inside her and waited. Demonoid lifeforms are some of the most patient in the universe. I can wait for the time where he and I will compose a contract; his soul for my gift of ultimate satisfaction. Oh yes, I can wait a very long time.
For now, I experience his intense gaze and firm hands through my proxy. She stands up pulling him with her, she turns to push objects further back on the table, Jim grabs up the bottle and socks down the last of it, “No, this is just me. This bottle has got me just feeling a light buzz at best, which I know will wear off fast. If I drank two more then I might start feeling tipsy.”
She laughs shaking her head, “I forget how much I miss being with a man. Do you have a rubber?”
“Sure. Always.” He says. Jim unbuttons his shirt pulling it out of his pants. He tosses it in a chair. He tosses his glasses on top of it.
There is a large scar where his prosthetic meets his flesh. His chest is wide and covered in densely packed muscle. His upper arm is muscular masterpiece. His nipples stand out dark on his light skin and even as she’s looking he rubs his thumbs over each before giving them a tight pinch.
“Then what are you waiting for?” She says boldly, leaning back on the dining table.
“Hey, I’m a romantic, I like to take the scenic route. I thought ladies were all about the journey, not the destination?” his smile is dashing as he applies the condom to himself. His cock is big thick and engorged, the corpus spongiosum on the underside of it very prominent. There is confidence in him that isn’t very apparent when he’s at work, a certainty of himself that only shines once in a while now. I myself first thought it foolish, but now just love to see. It means he’s having fun.
He pushes up her skirt and lifts her legs. He pulls her silken underwear down over her hips and slowly draws them upward pasts her thighs then knees and calves, which the right one he kisses and licks a long line up as she leans back reclining further on her kitchen table. He discards her underpants and with her legs still up he pushes them toward her upper body revealing more of her vulva.
He inserts his thumb between her labia. He rubs her clitoris with up and down motions. His thumb warms quickly and is soon hot from the heat of her flesh. The sensations in her vulva cause automatic bliss and her labia tingles with the fast flowing blood under the tender skin. She mewls “Umph, you’re such a dynamo! If I had known you were interested and could…”
Jim inserts one of his fingers into her vagina, pressing upward toward the belly he probes until he hears her gasp loud and feels her legs tremble. The pressure is so pleasing in a subtle way, it feels like very light pressure when applied to the clit. By itself it makes her wetter and wetter as he presses his finger up pinning the spot under his fingertip, his fleshless arm locking in place in a way no human hand can. He puts in another finger and begins a steady back and forth rubbing with his fingers inside her. Immediate sexual pleasure radiates forth from the spot and she inhales with a sharp noise each time his finger moves.
He pulls her right foot back toward himself and pulls off her pump and brings her foot to his mouth. He licks between her toes, his tongue is a hot wet eagerly questing form of massage I’ve never had before. Jim sucks each toe getting them as wet as possible, his hot breath furthering the pleasure, his teeth dragging on her foot in a very erogenous sensation. It’s almost ticklish the way stimulating most erogenous zones is, but it’s also definitely erotic for Chantoya and by extension myself.
Jim rests her foot on his shoulder and releases her g-spot from his persistent fingers. He slowly guides his cock into her vagina and I revel in the filling press of his penis. He thrusts slow taking long strokes in and out. She vocalizes,“Ah, ahah, aah!” panting with his slow tender movements. I am exalted by his gift of pleasure to this body. He is quietly focused on keeping an exact pace, but he bites his lip with his brow knit together in an expression of intense ecstasy, his hair swaying around his face as he moves.
He then takes her left leg in his right hand and pushes her hips, she rolls them over slightly, just to her side instead of to her belly. He guides her leg to curl about the back of his upper thighs, below his ass, his skin is cool against her calf. Her right leg he holds up and places her foot on his right shoulder, making a diagonal line from his left hip to the right shoulder. Chantoya’s left buttock is up from the table turned to her right, but her torso remains mostly flat against the table. He reaches forward and takes her right breast in his hand. In this position, he begins to thrust again.
The tip of his cock can be felt pressing into the right side of her vaginal walls and the underside of it presses and stretches the left side down. When he pulls nearly all the way out and pushes back in, his glans pushes directly onto the g-spot before pressing on the left and right wall instead of pelvic floor and top of the vagina. This achieves a new body of sensation compared to flat-on-your-back positioning. "God! Ah, ah, aaah!!!” she moans.
“Oooh! Fuck! Oh! Yeees!” Jim says,“Aw, -FUUUUCK- you let me fuck that pussy right, babydoll! Yeah, uhh! Yeah, your pussy is so good! Fuck, oh!!” and quickens his pace. He throws his head back letting go of her breast and dedicates himself to focus only on thrusting into her tight wet cunt."Uhn! Uhn!” he gasps and moans pulling in and out. His thrust is so fast it’s rocking her up and down on his cock and when her right leg begins to slowly drift down his arm, he unfurls her other leg from around him and presses both together flat on top of each other so she looks to be sitting on his cock with her legs stretched straight to her left.
He leans down and without her leg there, can reach to kiss her. He twists and twirls his tongue about hers and it turns up the ecstasy for the both of them and myself. She moans loud into his mouth, no longer able to control her volume of vocalization. I feel the vibrations of her voice in her teeth and tongue.
Father Jim holds himself up over her with his chrome left hand and holds her lower half close to his at the edge of the table with his right arm curled around under the left side of her waist. He thrusts faster and lifts his right knee up on to the table, pounding hard into her vagina. He’s closing in on the orgasm and so is she.
I laugh gleefully inside her, a joke they are both missing out on is the origin of my mirth. Look here, a manipulator of the unwitting manipulated by their intended puppets!! Is there nothing more absurd? Surely no. Ah, I just kill myself sometimes.
They both cum crying out to each other, their foreheads touching, Jim’s hair wet with sweat. I feel hers, it flushes her vulva with tingling and her nerves with pleasure of the highest quality, but I myself do not climax. I will not cum until I get his soul, which I’m sure is worth the wait.