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“I knew it...” She giggles and then kisses him again. “I have the solution.” Casey wants to ask what that solution may be, but he doesn’t get to. Her mouth is already working its way down his torso, across his flat belly and down to the hem on his shorts. When they relax like this they don’t wear undergarments—with the exception of her panties when she wears a shirt— so she knows that the shorts are the only barrier between them. She hooks her fingers around the shorts and pulls them down his legs. They join the shirt on the floor. She lifts his leg up and slowly kisses his calf. “So, in these fantasies,” she says between kisses. “Is it just you and him? Or am I ever there as well?”“It depends,” he answers, knowing that there is no use in lying or denying. Jessica is far too good a therapist not to tell if he is bullshitting her or not. She continues to kiss his leg, slowly working up toward his thigh. She holds his gaze the entire time, and Casey is finding it difficult to. The lamps were doused, and moonlight shone through the window. Resting uncomfortably, the Abbot listened as the house and the world outside came to its evening rest. When all was quiet, he heard slurping sounds from the corner, and turned away from them. The rustling grew more and more frantic, with murmurs and moans wafting through the room. ‘Niccólo deserves to have Satan squeeze his chest, using two women to satisfy his raging beast,’ he said to himself as he half-dozed through the ordinary sounds of the hut at night. It brought back memories of his childhood and his teen years, sleeping in common rooms and politely ignoring different couple’s lovemaking in the night, and made him long for the silence of his Cell. He shifted uncomfortably as he grew erect, the sounds reminding him of the next day’s meeting and the one who met him there on Thursdays. Finally, he fell asleep, his member still rigid, as Niccólo, his wife and his sister concluded their coitus. Mother Lucia and Sister.
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