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When I woke up, I was ready for more. I had my new toy, which with Drew's help had driven me crazy, and of course, the Sammies were always available. I chose my new toy.

I was disappointed, Drew and I had worn down the batteries. It needed to be recharged.

And I needed a shower. The instructions claimed it would take an hour to fully recharge.

I had a Sunday morning ritual; I always shaved my legs on Sunday morning. By the time, I washed my hair, shaved my legs and had something to eat, my new toy was fully charged.

We had one of the best afternoons I could remember. It wasn't too long before I was calling my new toy, Preacher. Unless you grew up in the kind of church I did, you may not understand. When the minister was giving his sermon, spontaneously members of the congregation would shout, "That's right," or something similar.

When Preacher had me on the verge of cumming, which happened numerous times, I'd shout out, "that's right." Or "right like that," or "right there."

Something else happened that afternoon. My parents called to tell me my ...

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