Indian Honeymoon Night Sex
It was the day after the encounter with Chad in the park, and Claire, Alison and Eva were in the chapel at number 38B, watching as the dark-skinned priest trimmed the altar candles after mass. Alison and Eva had both made some effort to dress modestly: Alison had even put on a pair of panties under her skirt. But Claire looked very out of place in a crotchless whole-body red fishnet outfit, which she was trying in vain to conceal under a transparent latex coat. She shuffled from foot to foot as she made a conscious effort not to look sexy – which was very difficult for her.“He was a student at the RAF,” said Eva. But rumour has it that he was kicked out – uh, for attacking Alison here, actually – and is now working for the Princess Asshole Hospice.”Father Ambrose grimaced. “Oh, I see. That place has a bit of a reputation, you know.” He moved across to a small Lady Altar and began clearing away spent devotional lights.“For what?” asked Claire, rather loudly. Aware how out of place she. This time he was going to focus his search. Make the right girls come to him, instead of the other way around. Make sure they knew exactly what they were in for. A personal ad. Why not, he thought, what the hell, hardly anybody knew him here - yet. He would still have to be a bit careful given his position, no photo's or too many personal details. He actually changed them a little, pretending to be a few years older and a couple of inches shorter than he really was. Just to make sure. After a few days of drafting and redrafting he placed the following ad: Young (31), tall (6ft2), handsome master seeks slavegirl (18 – 35). Inner and outer beauty essential. Experience not required. Discretion guaranteed. Send reply with photo. Do it right now!He didn't expect much. Would anybody respond? Maybe some students with too much time and hormones on their hands, as a prank on a housemate or something. Perhaps it would attract a few crackpots. Or crazy, ugly bitches. He deliberately stayed away.
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