Her forehead, her lips, her eyes, her cheeks. Running his hands over her body. Softly caressing her breasts. Following his hands with a line of kisses... First, each breast, squeezing them, sucking her nipples; one, then the other. Knowing, at this time, all she needs is his tenderness, not his dominance. Continually holding back his urges to move faster he continues kissing down over her abdomen. Taking his fingers and spreading her lips he breathes in her sweet essence and feels his cock. That must make the Suburbanites happy.ST. FRANCIS: Apparently not, Lord As soon as it grows a little, they cut it - sometimes twice a week.GOD: They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?ST. FRANCIS: Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.GOD: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?ST. FRANCIS: No, Sir, just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.GOD: Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And, when it does grow, they cut it. More

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