I lie on the bed, completely naked. Thereis no need to rush it. The kids are out of town and my husband won?t be homeanother three hours or so. I have...this time all to myself. Me and Mr. Dildo aregoing to have some fun. I kiss the warm plastic and stroke my facewith this large, pink cock. I touch the insides of my thighs with the fingersof my other hand and I can feel how wet I am down there. I need it, I need itthere, deep inside me. I need it to penetrate me, to impale me, to cut mybreath. “I need you up a little with a tray and glasses. What do we have?” We scrambled around. Morgan grabbed a mortarboard—not the kind you wear at graduation, but the kind we carried plaster around on. All I had were a couple of coffee cups next to my thermos. “Up there,” I said, pointing to the chancel area. It was elevated three steps from the sanctuary floor. “No. Not right hand. Can you hold it in your left? You are serving the reclining master. The tray has to be held out, not up. Can you lean. More

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