He watched my eyebrows shoot up in surprise and shook his head. "Oh no, nothing of the sort, my dear -- our tastes run to decadence, not to minors. We like our partners to be at least eighteen years old." He eased himself down next to me, his lips nuzzling my ear as he whispered, "When we see a likely participant, we happily welcome them into our sinful circle as soon as they reach adulthood."

Father Thomas leaned over and licked Mother Maggie's thigh, drenched with her juices. Then he again whispered into my ear. "I seem to recall your Tara will soon be eighteen, won't she?" His tongue slithered...