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.. mmmm... lovely...” Melissa continued to suck for about a minute or more. How marvellous to know that she was doing this voluntarily! That she could stop whenever she liked! Do whatever she liked! Melissa stopped. Then she moved and straddled Quentin, facing him, looking into a face which was heavy with both sleep and lust. She guided the root to herself and lowered her haunches. Quentin sighed contentedly. “Nice?” asked Melissa. “Superb,” replied Quentin. “Good... because your wife-to-be has a few requests to make.” “What... now?” “Right now. What better time, than when I’m pleasing you so much! How could you refuse me?” Quentin grinned. “Clever girl,” he said. Melissa was undulating very slowly but very sexily up and down. “It’s about Rosalie... and Havers...” “Ah yes... I thought we’d come to that. What do you want done, my dear Melissa?” Up and down... up and down... so sinuously... so seductively... “I want Rosalie sent to the ‘Paradise’.” “Fair enough. That’s easy to. He tried to look busy with his plants and pretend that he didn't notice her. He heard the tires crunch on the gravel in front of the house. “Please Lord, give me the strength to resist this temptation. Please give me the strength. Please. Please.” Father Paul prayed. He heard the car door open and close and knew that his resolve was already fading. He hadn't turned to face Angela but he felt the twirling of desire fluttering in his chest. He wouldn't be able to hold out. He knew that. She had some sort of strange effect on him. It was as if every bit of self-control left his body when she was around. He found his thoughts returning to the first time they kissed. Her lips were so soft and full. Her bottom lip has a little permanent pout to it that makes her seem irresistibly kissable. It wasn't Angela that started it. When they first met at the church, he had been leaning forward and listening to her talk and his hand had moved up to her face without even thinking. They were sitting.
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