I could feel myself dripping… I wanted to let my hand run down, over my stomach and between my thighs to lightly fondle my dripping wet pussy throug... my underwear. I squirmed in my seat, trying to get more comfortable. I had dropped the rosary long ago, my hands too sweaty to try and hang onto it. Part of what had gotten me worked up was Father Jarrod. He is younger than the Father we had here before, maybe 24 or 25. He kept his dark hair short, and had the most beautiful blue eyes. All in. That was it. Having recharged myself, my job in the city was done. Istarted back home early the next morning, well provisioned with suppliesI had gathered at the market. I was hoping I could make it back in a day.For once I would not be held by caution to a slow speed.I was climbing the hill north of town, enjoying a mouthful of freshstrawberries just picked from the same field through which I had entered.Up the path I climbed, and then onto the stony areas. I chose a new, moredirect route. More

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