I went to his small house, at the edge of town. He was not a rich man, nor a poor man, but he was a good worker, honest and fair in all trade negotiations. Cecilia was in her upstairs room, breathing quietly, sleeping but not as hot as she was before. She would recover, hopefully by the end of the week she would be better.As I tell Chester the good news, he pours a glass of wine for us both in thanks. I hesitate. His shirt is white and thin cotton, his pants a thicker burlap, his shoes heavy and leather. His eyes look into my soul and my breath catches. I want to kiss him softly once on the cheek."Only one drink, sister.""I don't think I should.""Isn't it a sin to waste good wine?" He smiles as he hands it to me."I think you need to come more often to church, if you think that."He moves through the house and my nipples are hard through my habit and my nether regions are wet as I look at his strong back. I should leave, but something compels me to stay."May I confess something t
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