Still sweaty from volleyball they drove to the church and prayed. It was a short prayer.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” she asked.

He was sitting in the front pew facing the altar, and she was sitting on him, his cock buried in her ass, her thighs resting on his thighs, her legs dangling to the outside, her feet not quite to the floor.

“I do,” he said solemnly. “You have the prettiest little cunt in creation.” His fingers fluttered across her clitoris, landing on the lips below. “Like angel’s wings,” he said, stroking gently through the juice. “They call these nether lips, but I call them angel wings. My little angel wings all fat and puffy and fun to play with.” His fingertip dipped into the hole. “That’s right, squeeze honey. Let me feel your squeeze. Oh, good. That’s it. Squeeze again. Mm. Soon I’ll touch your come-button and you’ll come. Won’t that be fun? Yes, honey, squeeze. Squeeze those angel lips around my finger. Squeeze your asshole on my cock. Squeeze, honey, squeeze. You’re good at this. Soon my finger will dance on your clit. Dance to beat the band. Know how many angels could dance on the head of your clit? Guess, honey. How many? One? Two? Three? Come on, guess for me. Guess and squeeze. No dancing till you guess.”