He pillowed his head on his folded arms. “Is there anything else you want to ask me, my daughter?” he asked politely.
“N… n… no…” was all she could utter, yet her fists were clenched and her arms were drawn against her sides. Her huge bosom heaved with quick rising and falling motions, her eyes bulged and sweat broke out on her forehead. The blush had spread and her ears and the tip of her nose were almost fiery red.
Father Lang wanted to get her out of this state of shock and he decided to make it a little bit easier on her. He gave her a long and meaningful look and then said calmly, as if he were discussing the weather, “You are staring at my cock, Madame, as if it were some-ting unique. Let me assure you, dear woman that half the world's population has one. And, far be it from me to offend your modesty, but mine is frequently in this condition when I am resting. I would not want you to think that I intended any assault upon your undisputed virtue.”
“Oooh… but… I… ah… did not… think that… at all,” the blushing widow gasped. “I am sure that a priest would never take notice of such a lowly person as myself but, with your Reverence's permission, your c-cock is s-so s-swollen… that I… that I… could n-not help b-but notice it.”
“Do not feel guilty, my daughter,” was the mellow reply. “Your kindness in giving me shelter has put you high above any other woman in Paris. And I think that you are very comely, and cannot help but wonder that no honorable man has yet replaced your late husband.”
Emilia Lemaitre lowered her head. “I… I have tried, Father. But I cannot find a man worthy to replace my dear Jean-Baptiste. Of course, God forgive his soul, he did have his faults, but…”
“We all have them, my daughter.”
“Yes, your Reverence. I… I was going to mention that my poor Jean-Baptiste did not always share the bed with me as often as I wished. But… he was very much a man like you… I mean…”
She turned aside. She was terribly embarrassed at the things she had blurted out, and she would have loved to run out of the room. But she was completely under the spell of Father Lang's gigantic member. Fortunately, the good Father had seized her by the hand, and he encouraged her line of thought by saying, “I am not at all offended, my daughter. On the contrary, by comparing me to a husband who gave you heaven on earth. I feel very pleased and flattered. Marriages are made in heaven and it gladdens my heart to hear about couples who take satisfaction and joy in each other.”
“Thank you, Father. It's only that… well, that… Jean-Baptiste did not always take his joy when it was offered. We often quarreled about that. And now I repent my sinfulness. I… I asked him to do things which he said were a disgrace in the eyes of the Lord, and he swore that they were absolutely forbidden, even between husband and wife. He began to drink, and he left my bed.”
“Nothing that is done between husband and wife, when it is done in love can be improper, my daughter. What a pity that he did not understand this law of God and Nature.”
He prompted, “Will it ease your conscience to tell me about the nature of the difficulties between you and your late husband?”
“Oooh, your Reverence,” she clasped her hands before her mouth, “I would not dare in a million years…”
“Come, come, my daughter. If I cannot measure the nature of the misunderstanding- because I am sure that it was nothing more-I can hardly help you alleviate your distress. I am on vacation from my order for an entire month. Look at me as a good friend, and try to forget that I am a priest.” He almost added, “So will I,” but he checked himself just in time.
She whispered, “You won't condemn me?”
“Of course not!”
He did not let go of her trembling hand and Madame Lemaitre suddenly blurted, “I sometimes wished that Jean-Baptiste would take me from behind in the way I had seen it done by the animals in the fields and he would always say that this was the most unnatural and horrible thing a respectable woman could wish for and…”
He stopped her gushing confession. “Following the example set by Nature, how could he take offense?”
The widow Emilia Lemaitre squirmed, turning her head away. She tried to draw her hand away from his, but Father Lang held on, insistently. “Disclose the secrets you are hiding in your mind. They trouble you because you don't talk about them. Out with them, and they will no longer be a source of distress to you.”
“T-true… your… your… Reverence…” Emilia began to stutter hopelessly, “I-it w-was n-not only the, the, the t-taking me from behind… that m-my h-husband ob-objected to. It… is s-so d-difficult… to… to… tell a… a… priest.”
“I cannot at all fathom your difficulties, my daughter, if you keep stuttering and stammering. I want to be helpful, and I am sure that I can be very, very accommodating, because men of my calling are usually more informed and tolerant about the things of this world. And, as I have assured you before, pray see me as a good and understanding friend rather than a priest.”
“I wished him to put his… prick… into… into… the other place, your Reverence!”
“The other place?” Father Lang pretended not to understand. “I think it would be better if you showed me. It is always so much more simple than groping for the proper words. Take off your skirts, my daughter, and I am sure that we will have no difficulty communicating. Point out that… other place to me.”
His prick had attained its full length and girth. Emilia Lemaitre drew a long, trembling breath, she unhooked her skirt, letting it drop about her shapely ankles. She wore nothing, under it, and the good Father nearly swooned when he saw the soft curves of her pink-skinned belly, marked by a wide and shallow navel niche and then below a thicket of dark pubic curls which in a huge fleece covered the opening of her delicious slit. But before he could compliment her on her good looks she had turned her back, pointing her forefinger toward the narrow, shadowy cleft which separated her two magnificently ripe, fully rounded globes. She whispered huskily, “It was in here, Father, that I wanted Jean-Baptiste to put his cock. But he said that it was wicked to do that. I begged him to do it only to show me that he truly loved me. I always was willing, eager for him to fuck me the regular way. But he always refused to grant me the one pleasure I wanted more than anything in the world.”
Father Lang could no longer contain himself. The widow's beautiful buttocks were making him exceedingly horny and he stretched out both hands, firmly squeezing and kneading the delicious globes. Emilia was startled and she looked around, her eyebrows raised in utter surprise. In a last effort to retain her modesty, she clasped both hands before her big fleece.
“Jean-Baptiste was wrong to deny you your greatest desire,” purred the priest, “especially since you did your utmost to make his husbandly rights memorable. He mercilessly denied you a token of his husbandly affection.”
“Oh, that's so true,” the beautiful half-naked widow sniffed, taking her hands off her furry slit to rub two big tears from her eyes.
“Do you still want these things, my child? Do you like to be buggered?”
A ripple of voluptuous desire shivered through the body of Emilia Lemaitre. Her voice was husky and faint as she whispered.
“Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes.”
“I shall be more than happy to help you in your time of need my dear child. Would it offend you, if I fucked you in the ass?”
“Oh no… no!”
“Then allow me a little preparation, dear daughter. Lie across my lap.” She did not comprehend his instructions at all, but she would gladly have done anything to deserve this unexpected boon for which she had been yearning those many, many years. She complied, though blushingly, and the priest circled her waist with his left arm, raising his right hand. She did not know what was about to happen and when Father Lang dealt her a loud slap on the huge summit of one of her bottom cheeks, leaving a bright mark, she was startled and fearful.
“Ooh,” she gasped, undoubtedly trying to figure out how this punishment was going to lead to the sodomitic bliss she was yearning for.
“Don't move,” he ordered, dealing her a second slap on the other buttock, leaving another handmark on her velvety skin. “This will warm your backside, arouse your desires and therefore prepare you to enjoy what otherwise might easily become an ordeal.”
Emilia was satisfied with the explanation, so she bravely clenched her fists and closed her eyes, submitting to this strange preparation. Her naked loins wriggled voluptuously over Father Lang's enormously bulging crotch, putting his powers of self-control to the test. But manfully he continued to slap her succulent rump till it was dark
