I was in no position to argue because we were in a church, and she was a “Sister”, and we were doing a religious rite according to the teachings o... the demon fighting branch of Vatican enforcers. I mounted her from the rear and entered her front and back making her whine and quiver with her emotional response to my ministrations. She helped me by pushing back against my hardness telling me, “Give it to me good, Mister Postman, make me open up for your saving grace.”Of course, I was only a low. Of course, part of my horniness, a large part, was the bike. Taken logically, it’s not so much, but ... I don’t know ... there’s a feeling of ... solidity, perhaps. The power, or the impression of power, is somewhat of an illusion. Torque, I suppose is a better term. Not that I know much about that.So there we are, sitting close together – of necessity, it’s a very small café, and busy – and chatting about the village. I knew a little, from reading about the place. We finished our snack, and. More

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