Stephen the Martyr: in the swaddling garb of what I later came to know as the clothing worn by Roman peasants, lashed at his wrists and ankles to a wo...den post, posed with his eyes lifted to heaven, all done with exacting, lurid anatomical detail.My gaze never failed to linger on the carved image of St. Joseph, whose name matched my middle name and who had been chosen as the patron saint of my Confirmation. Not as herculean as St. Christopher, he was a long legged figure with a long beard,. Take my body.” As the sun rose we had no energy to speak or move. With my cock still in her pussy and the mixture of our love juices oozing out of her pussy into the cabin bed, we slept in tight embrace, our lips touching each other, our faces facing each other, our bodies wet in a mixture of both our sweat. Her last words that beautiful morning were “Saabji my ass is still virgin.” I told her “Don’t make me hornier now Rupa, we have two more nights in the train and I will need energy, and then. More

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