It was really a race meeting.As a teenage male I was no stranger to the feel of my hand on my shaft. Ever since that magical day when my balls dropped...I'd wanked and wanked. Its a wonder I didn't go blind, good job the school myths weren't true! What I wasn't familiar with was the feel of a girl's vagina around it, even at the age of eighteen. A couple of girls had watched me wank around the back of the school, I mean watched me at their instigation. They had asked, I never knew why, but then. They were all women. They dressedidentically in long black skirts, black tights, black flats, and redsweaters.My wife and I sat at the Father's table both dressed in pantsuits. Weseemed out of place. My wife asked about the women's clothing, and heexplained that modesty was a virtue among women. I could see my wife'sshame immediately about how she was dressed. Pants were not what amodest woman wears. She knew it then, and she made clear that I knew itas well. We asked for his forgiveness. The. More

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