Carson wheeled around. “What should I do in the meantime?”Mr. Armisen shrugged. “Whatever you want. Stay here. Walk around. I’ll leave you my card.”He set it down on a counter. “In case you wanna spruce up.”Then he shut the door behind him.Carson’s rubbed his butt, the sting of Armisen’s palm still fresh, and looked around the suite. There was the master bedroom--the walls charcoal grey and lined with mirrors, the bedsheets black. He made his way towards a mysterious door at the far corner. For a moment, Carson wondered what kind of kinky sex dungeon might be hiding behind the door--toys and straps hanging from the walls...But it was just a bathroom. He was a little disappointed.Carson caught his reflection in the mirror, his curly locks and pale expression. He looked down at his Mickey Mouse T-shirt. He would definitely need an upgrade. *Carson walked along the beachside boutiques, a vanilla ice cream in hand. He looked over at the shore, tanned and muscular bodies striding past. He. But, just take a break and wonder at how many hidden secrets abound in such communities.I think, if we embrace our emotions, let them out, give them room to play, entice them, encourage them to grow then we will be more in tune with what God intended and maybe we would become more mature, quicker.That’s what I intend to do right now. Become more mature, quicker and in support of those thoughts, I start to rub my nipples, pulling on them and squeezing them. They react as I expect and makes me sob a little.These narrow benches are a struggle to sit on so I slip to the floor and spread my legs a little, rolling my hands down the sides of my body, caressing it. I shiver with a little excitement or it could be from a gust of cold air that has found its way into the confessions box.I imagine Father Patrick’s manhood staring at me with its single eye. Measuring me up for size. I can see his hand around it and I close my eyes to the thought of him doing unearthly things to my body. I look.
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