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You moaned, thrusting your erect nipples into my lips. I devoured them one by one. Frantically, you pulled at my clothes, working to get at my flesh. You longed to touch my cock, to feel it pulse in your hand. Once it was free, you fell to your knees to worship it. You took two fingers and stroked it, waiting for that precious drop of liquid to appear at its head. Its appearance meant that you had my undivided attention. I was putty in your hands. You licked up the precious drop, wiping its flavor over your lips. Your lips became slick, allowing your mouth to glide easily down the full length of my thick rod. Closing your eyes, you felt the beat of my heart pulse through my cock. It throbbed in the tight vise of your lips. More of the precious fluid spread over the roof of your mouth. The flavor exploded, stimulating your senses with pleasure. I had to pry your lips from my cock to keep from cumming in that warm, beautiful mouth. Our favorite part was coming, that kiss, that. Mia wanted to believe Sister Agatha; she wanted to believe her mother was special."Your mother had a rare beauty and personality that not many girls are fortunate enough to possess," Sister Agatha explained, and then she got a far off look, "But unfortunately I think her beauty was probably what caused her so much pain and grief."Mia wasn't sure she knew what Sister Agatha meant. Mia had always been average looking, and not beautiful, so she wasn't sure she understood how being beautiful could cause someone grief."Anyway child," Sister Agatha smiled, "Don't worry so much, these things have a way of working themselves out."Mia wasn't buying that for a second, "My grandpa won't forgive her," Mia said, "So I may never get to see her."The desperation in Mia's voice was heartbreaking. Sister Agatha knew all about the situation with Martin Pirelli and his daughter and she had always been deeply troubled about it. The Angelica she remembered was not a bad girl, albeit sometimes a bit.
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