red. The helpless victim wriggled, sobbed and kicked in the most exciting manner.
“I do believe that you are now properly prepared for the gratification of your secret desires.” He tried to keep his voice unctuous and fatherly, but this was a miserable failure. Instead, his voice shook, was hoarse and thick with unbridled lust.
“Take off the rest of your clothes and get up upon the bed on all fours,” he commanded. “Spread your legs far apart; it will make it easier for me to get in.”
Slowly, rubbing her flaming buttocks, Emilia clambered from his lap. She took off her blouse and bodice, and naked as the day she was born she got up onto the bed. Her head was bowed, her palms bore down upon the mattress, and her knees were wide apart. The spectacle of her thoroughly paddled bottom made his mouth water, his cock throb, and his head spin. The contrast of her pink thighs and calves was a delight to behold.
Father Lang removed his drawers, giving his massive prick full freedom. He massaged her red bottom with expert fingers, and the beautiful Emilia whimpered with lust. Finally he pried in between the cleft, exposing the crinkly little asshole. The dainty lips contracted with becoming modesty, a movement which only served to make Father Lang more horny-to judge by the almost painful throbs of his cock. He kept the globes separated with his fingers of his left hand and he slowly stuck his index finger of the right hand into the inviting little rosette. He caressed it, making Emilia moan and sigh incoherently, Finally he gently introduced the tip of his prick into the narrowness of the entrance to her bowels.
“Oooh… your Reverence,” she gasped, her hips jerking fitfully at his furtive probings.
“Patience, patience, my dear daughter,” he said. “I am fully able to satisfy your heart's desire, but I must have your full cooperation. I can guarantee you the results you have been praying for.”
He slowly withdrew his forefinger out of the widow's cringing ass, and spreading the buttocks wide apart, began to moisten the crinkly hole with his lecherous tongue till the center of the cleft was dripping with his spittle. She weaved and undulated her hips in the most lascivious manner. Father Lang spit in his hand and then rubbed the saliva on the tip of his turgid cock.
After he had thoroughly moistened his entire instrument so that it was properly slippery, he said, “Now, my daughter, we shall have to see about the respective measurements. Please try and stay calm when you feel me penetrate these tight inroads into your pleasure spot. If you retreat, the good work will have to be repeated.”
“Oooh… no… no, your Reverence!” Emilia's naked body shook and convulsed with erotic fervor.
Now he put both hands to work against the quivering buttocks of her reddened backside, making them yawn widely till the dainty niche was lewdly distended, gaping in readiness for his adventure. He fitted the big head of his stiff organ against the little opening, and edged forward with a few tentative pushes. The lips gave way to his superior strength, but it seemed that they were only capable of accepting the knob of his formidable cock. A low groan escaped from the lips of his landlady who dug her fingers deep in the mattress, butting her head against the counterpane of the bed to steel herself against the oncoming assault.
“And now to the good work,” he gasped, thrusting vigorously. The good widow Le-maitre ground her teeth, but she met the onslaught with heroic resistance. The priestly prick penetrated slowly into the narrow channel. He noticed at once that his dear Emilia surely could not be a virgin in that crevice, though she was almost as tight as a virgin. This little circumstance doubled the enjoyment of Father Lang's carnal pleasure in servicing her. By now, more than an inch of his hot and turgid rod had disappeared into her warm, narrow cavern. Convulsions made her buttocks quake and shiver. He held on firmly to her big fat arse, spreading the cheeks as widely as he could, at the same time making sure that Emilia would not try to escape that which she had so boldly sought.
“Brace yourself again, my daughter. I am going to return to the task of making you happy,” he panted. He jerked his loins again, sending his cock deeper into her rectum. A muffled cry escaped her lips. Father Lang's cock was now buried halfway into the hot chamber of her bowel. He stopped. The rudely distended passageway clutched spasmodically against his shuddering organ in a series of quick pressures. He had to use all his powers of self- control, or he would have spurted all his spunk.
“Am I hurting you, my daughter?” His voice again was unctuous, though it still trembled somewhat.
“Ooh… your Reverence,” Emilia squirmed, “it… it is all I can bear. I have never before been stretched so terribly… aaah… ooooh… please, I beg of you, wait a moment so that I can regain my strength. I want to have all of you inside me.”
“Bravely spoken, my dear… ah… child,” he panted. “I, too, need some respite. Try to bow your head a little lower against the bed-board. It will angle up your bottom and make my thrusting inside you all the more delightful.”
She immediately complied with his request. Her thighs began to quake, threatening to give way beneath her in near-fainting ecstasy. The priest slowly crouched forward, extending his left hand under her to grope for her enormous tits which he began to squeeze lovingly. With his other hand he crawled around her furry patch, trying to find her clitoris. When he had found it, he began to squeeze it gently. Emilia emitted a sobbing cry of pure ecstasy, “Aiii… ooohh… you are making me die with pleasure. I swear to you no one ever has made me so happy… not even my dear Jean-Baptiste. Oh, dear Lord… I will burn a candle for my dear departed husband, for the good Count de Berny who brought me to you, and for this heavenly evening!”
“Amen to that, my hospitable daughter,” Father Lang rapturously agreed. “And now that I have regained my full composure, prepare yourself to feel my blade disappear up to the hilt into that marvelous chink of yours!”
“Oh, I am ready! I enjoy it, even though it may kill me,” exclaimed his eager landlady.
The Englishman gritted his teeth, thrusting manfully forward. He tried to distract his naked victim by squeezing her tits and frigging her hardening clit. Emilia Lemaitre was now writhing lasciviously upon the bed, uttering sobbing little cries of joy and ecstasy, and thrusting back her naked hips wildly so that the priest might harpoon her fundament to his very hilt as he had promised.
Father Lang felt the shuddering, wriggling buttocks thrust against his naked belly. His face turned purple in a desperate effort not to squirt his jism into her yet. His fingers twisted Emilia's turgid clitoris, bringing her responses to a furious frenzy. Her fingers clawed the mattress, her head-no longer resting against the headboard-was shaking furiously and he could feel the naked tit jut and rasp its swollen nipple against the palm of his cupping hand.
Now he began to work his mighty weapon in and out of her protesting channel which was spasming and contracting. The naked widow squirmed and twisted, seemingly trying to disengage herself from the tormenting spear. But her sobbing cries implied otherwise.
“Oooooh… aaah… faster… harder… your Reverence, please! Your finger is driving me out of my mind… oooh… oooh… don't come now, Reverend Father… please, please hold it back till I am ready too! Deeper, harder… give it to me… drill as far as it will go… I beg of you! Oooh, what bliss, what joy you give me… aaah!!!”
His forefinger flattened the clitoris back into its dainty little abode. Then he let it bob up again in all its rigidity, rubbing it from side to side. Then he would press it down, only to let it jump up again. He drew her closer and closer toward that abyss of passion with which the hot, tight squeezing glove of her rectal entrance against his embedded prick threatened to plunge him at any moment.
Finally, because of her quaking spasms and the tireless wriggling of her smooth, naked hips, he decided that she too had reached the point of no return. He called out to her to go with him on his flight into heaven and with two or three more tearing digs of his bursting weapon, he flooded her bowels with enormous squirts of hit, sticky jism. Her own furry slit offered its creamy sacrifice into his hands and Emilia Lemaitre's arms and legs gave way beneath her. She was sprawled flat, full-length upon the bed, with the good Father closely joined to her ass. They both gasped out their ecstasy.
And thus, a visiting English priest had a most marvelous night because Julia de Corriero decided never to see the Count de Paliseul again, and because her sister, the widow Vaudrez, did not trust the Count de Berny enough for a stay overnight, fearing the noble gentleman could get her with child.
Strange are the ways of the Lord. Father Lang took up his new domicile for the month and at the same time he satisfied the secretive burning desire of the frustrated, stately widow of the late Jean-Baptiste Lemaitre.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Well, my dear sister,” Florentine asked Julia after breakfast, “what happened last night? Why did I have to go so quickly to Paris?”
