My husband is a pastor, a TV preacher to be exact. He “earned” all of his money, preying on the hopes and dreams of sheep like you who will 
follow him anywhere. I must admit, the more famous he has become, my encounters become hotter with the blasphemy phone sex.
God knows the last thing I need is another complicated “thing.” Yet, I find myself looking constantly. As he preaches, I look around the stadium and see all these men. I daydream about the shaft tucked away tightly in their perfectly creased suits. Sitting there dressed all properly, I can’t help but start squirming around in my seat. Sometimes, I see the men adjusting their love train, which gets my juices flowing.
Stay calm, stud muffin. I am not that easy to conquer. It will take some effort if you want a taste of my glory hole. Nothing would make that pocket rocket harder than a little taste of the forbidden. The unattainable.
blasphemy phone sex
I am not worried about parishioners finding me here. Sites like this are “the devil’s work,” and they certainly are not going to tell my husband that they are addicted to pornography.
Do you have what it takes to bring out my wild side? My forbidden little secret is so delightful. You stroke that big thing for me, and let’s see if you can get me to tease my sweet kitty while you play.
