Massage Service

Lucia considered herself an agnostic; Dirk never bothered to try and classify himself.On most Sundays Boyd and Faith got up in time to attend both Sunday school and church services. Not that they were devoutly religious. It was merely the easiest way to get along, since the church they normally attended was pastored by Faith's father. It was a small church, a fundamentalist sect, and Faith's father shouted his sermons from the pulpit in the best tradition of a vanishing style of hell-fire oratory that sometimes made the hair on the back of Boyd's neck stand up in fright.That Sunday Boyd awoke slowly. He glanced sleepily over at the clock on the bedside table. He groaned aloud. Sunday school was over and the church service was more than ten minutes underway. There'd be hell to pay at supper. Though Faith's mother was a wonderful cook, no one would enjoy the meal. Her father would see to that, as he always did when they failed to show up for Sunday morning worship. A private sermon was. "That's me," I whispered. I looked over the top of the mirror atCassie. She nodded gently.I looked at Diane, who I still had clutched around the hips. "Yes, itis, sweetie," she said."I have to go pee," I said suddenly. And they both laughed at the non-sequitur."I'm serious!" I said."Well, then go pee. Nobody's stopping you."I pushed the bedclothes away and stood up. I scampered to the bathroomon my tiptoes, feeling my bladder was about to explode.When I got to the bathroom, I paused a bit and tried to figure out whatto do. I took off the pajama bottoms, throwing them away from me. Ipushed down the sheer panties I found I was wearing, sat down and letgo. At least the muscles I needed to use were about the same.I sighed in relief. I was about to get up when I felt how wet my buttwas. I thoughtfully got some toilet paper and wiped carefully. Idropped the paper in the bowl and flushed.Rising, I pulled up my panties and went to the sink to wash my hands.As I was washing, I looked at myself.
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