I was amazed that if felt like there was some kind of glue inside her that didn't want to let go of my finger.She kissed me some more, and then opened my pants to suck my erection. She just played with it, really, not trying to make it squirt. She did that for fifteen minutes. Finally she lifted her head and looked at me."I need you," she said. "I need you to love me." Yes," I said, my voice shaky. I felt stupid. Everything she said made me feel important, and all I could come up with was "Yes?" She didn't notice.She padded barefoot to Scott's bedroom door and opened it quietly, peeking in. She turned off the light, and came back to lead me to her bedroom.She taught me how to make love to her pussy with my mouth.It was easy. She'd showed me how to do it for the last fifteen minutes. The equipment I was using on her was different, but the technique was the same. I kissed, and licked and sucked, just like she had. It took me five or ten minutes, but I knew I was doing it right because. It surely was no coincidence that his journey had already taken him this far. He knew the place lay over the next range of hills, westwards towards the Lakes. And so Father Jim Wright kept running. And running. And he would not stop till he found his place of salvation. ~Now there were four people in Detective Inspector McCann’s car, speeding northwest up the motorway. Phil Nyman rode shotgun, his eyes red and bleary, fitfully dozing: Jane McCann smiled inwardly, wondering if he had in fact spent the remainder of last night cavorting with Bob – but, out of respect for the nun in the back seat, she did not ask. Jane kept herself awake with several cups of strong coffee bought from successive service stations, all of them periodically announcing their titles like ancient ceremonial milestones: Cherwell Valley, Sandbach, Lymm, Charnock Richard – but none of them (certainly not the coffee) living up to the atmospheric promise of the name.In the backseat, Vicky and Mariana chatted.
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