Did you know, h, that as a child I narrowly avoided* being bummed by one of Ireland's most infamous nonce priests? We holidayed in a place in Wexford for three years on the trot. Now the local priest was a chap called Fr Sean Fortune and the first time my father met the chap who owned the place in which we were staying, he was advised to take me to Mass not at the local church, but at the nearby church in Hook, instead, since the local priest was known to have an unhealthy fondness for young chaps my age.
My father had no interest in wasting his valuable holiday time going to Mass, so the advice was academic, but, had my father or mother been churchgoing types and a range of other somewhat unlikely events taken place, I could easily have been buggered by this horrible ****.
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*Came nowhere near
Last edited by Burney; 04-16-2019 at 02:57 PM.
Au contraire my dear Berni, I'd say the vile pederast was practically breathing down your neck while lasciviously lubing his foul member. I think you have been subliminally traumatised and really ought to sue The RC Don't mention the wánking shed in court though b. Counsel for the nonce will try and spin that up to make you look like the deviant.