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Thursday, 30 July 2009

image for Fr. Francois' Confessional #03 A. Chamone searches the racks for crotchless panties

Dear Fr. Francois:

I've been married to my husband for nearly eleven years, and for the most part, I have been blessed with a wonderful, faithful, brilliant husband who has provided me with a marvelous home, more than enough mad money, time away from the children with my girlfriends; he loves my parents. In most respects he is the perfect husband.

My problem is that in matters of marital relationships, my husband is a complete and utter failure, a dud, not a stud. Back when we were dating, Larry could bang my head against the head board in his parent's room for hours without ceasing. My noggin broke out three passenger windows in his 59 Ford Fairlane as he pounded me again, and again, and again. He would ride me doggie style. We did it standing up, sitting down, kneeling, whatever floated Larry's boat. Sometimes we'd go at it for hours until I walked bowlegged for five days afterwards.

Don't even get me started on the amount of oral sex we indulged in on a "normal" night! But since we got married, in fact, on our very wedding night, Larry couldn't get an erection to save his life. I dismissed this failure as a result of too much tequila at the reception. From that night on, it became a real struggle just to get him erect enough to penetrate me. I have no earthly idea how he impregnated me three times; I cannot remember him getting a boner three times in our entire married life together.

I can, and do, go down on him for hours, Father, but it does no good. What do you suggest?

Signed,
A. Chamone


Dear A:

I insist upon you coming to the Rectory four times a day for a fortnight. Bring lingerie and wear fishnet stockings held up by garters. I need to examine your entire body and will video tape and shoot still photographs of you performing various sex acts upon me. Now, don't you fret, it is completely OK! I'm a priest; you can trust me.

Be sure to dress modestly in a sweater and skirt ( but no panties). We wouldn't want anybody to get the wrong idea about our marital counseling seesions, now would we.

Blessings,
Fr. Francois Dubois, S.J.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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