officially Queen of Virtue), and to the side, in the half-darkness, the old housekeeper whose asshole was still sore as hell.
Aah! Now he was truly the Abbot Pineraide, but even in his priestly vestments it was clear that he was quite a stud. He bowed in all directions, mainly to show off his good figure and the strength of his body. Under his sacred vestments, it was easy to guess the enormous size of his male virility.
Most of the women, kneeling down to pray, felt their ticklers swell, their pussies moisten, and many a sigh was not meant for the Virgin Mary but a lustful desire to feel the enormous dong of the young priest deep in their bellies, pumping up and down till they would go out of their minds. Meanwhile they got their vicarious thrills from the mighty voice of their priest which rang like heavenly music through the church.
His victory was complete. When the Mass was finished, he had conquered every woman's heart, and entering their pussy or their asshole would merely be a matter of asking for it.
When he entered the vestry, the old Father Duretron was waiting for him. He said with a sarcastic sneer, “I'll give you good advice, my dear young friend. Don't overdo it, and prepare yourself for the worst. I have noticed the effect you have on the females of Motte-sur-Vy, and I feel sorry for you if your prick cannot live up to the veiled promises you have made.”
“Oh, that,” Pineraide answered lightheartedly. “As far as that is concerned I am sure I can deliver. Thank God I have a dong which is capable of satisfying even the most demanding connoisseur.”
“The better for you, my boy. Because all these bigoted bitches come to church for one purpose only. I have been here for almost twenty years, and during that time they have worn out at least two dozen priests. They were like you, young and strong, willing and horny. But, in no time at all these praying front seat cunts reduced them to old, gray men, incapable of getting a hard-on. And then, your usefulness as father confessor is over. I am the only one who has managed to stick it out, even though I have become noticeably weaker. But I have managed to hold in… besides, I don't give a damn about women; I can't stand cunts. I prefer little boys, they don't exhaust one so much…”
“Now, now! That depends. At the seminary I have cornholed all my comrades and believe me, many a time my loins and back ached and sometimes I couldn't walk straight for days.”
“Oh, I believe you, but I don't fuck assholes either.”
“You let yourself be sucked only?”
“Sometimes, yes… but what I like best is to have a little boy of about twelve to fourteen years stick his little peter in my ass. Oh, if you only knew how good that feels. To have the lithe, little body of a boy humping up and down your buttocks, and to feel that tiny little prick carefully disappear into your asshole. It doesn't tear you apart like the big hard-on of a man, but it just makes you horny enough to get a stiff prick yourself. And then, when the little boy's prick is all the way in, shuddering with pleasure, and when the boy's little hand begins to jack off-in the beginning you have to tell the little tykes that it is God's will, but soon they begin to ask for more-you experience a heavenly feeling, true delight. Try it, and you will see that I am right.”
“Thinking about it makes me drool already. Alas, I am afraid that it is more difficult to find little boys than it is to find women. They fall on their backs and open up their legs the moment they see me.”
“Pineraide, I cannot believe that you are that naive! You have right here more boys than you could possibly handle. Think of all the choir boys.”
“You are right; I had not thought about them.”
“Every single one of these boys has licked my balls, sucked my prick, and fucked me in the ass. Otherwise I would not allow them in the vestry.”
“And you have never put it in yourself?”
“Oh, no! I hate these shit holes. I have one other passion. I love to suck the little prick of one of these children. Quite often when I got fucked by one of these choir boys in the behind, I would be sucking the hard-on of one of the other boys… it tastes delicious. These young pricks, especially when they are still fresh and rosy, are a true delicacy. They smell delicious and are particularly exciting. And when they come… only a few little drops, of course… I swallow it. It makes me drunk with desire, nay, it almost drives me crazy with lust. Six to eight drops of come from a little boy are far superior to the best glass of Benedictine or Chartreuse.”
“That sounds like a medicine I have to try myself.”
“Oh, Pineraide, I can definitely recommend it. It is charming and pleasant, and it will give you a chance to recuperate from fucking all those women. And then there is something else, which is very important, and one of the reasons that I have my sex the way I just described. When I still fucked women, I noticed quite often that they did not come, even though I strained myself, using all my strength, bodily and mentally. And, when your partner does not come, the pleasure is only half there. Because, after all, it is far more pleasant to have sex and to notice that the woman you are fucking is coming one time after another. With a carnal coupling there are two feelings that have to be united to give the greatest pleasure to body and soul. And when you are working on a woman who remains as cold as a lump of dead flesh, you may get a physical satisfaction, but the mind remains unaffected. With little boys, however, this never happens. They come every time, and always at the proper moment. I think that is because between two members of the same sex, one can usually guess when the other is ready to come. And that immediately has as a result that the partner comes, too. The feelings are more intense, they are always mutual, and nobody is left hanging with an unsatisfied feeling!”
“What you are saying may be true, but as far as I am concerned, all the women I have fucked so far have come at least three or four times, and usually wound up begging me to stop because they were afraid to lose their minds forever. They have squirted till they were completely exhausted…”
“Oh, I don't deny that. It's very well possible, but that is because you are very young, and your prick stands at a moment's notice. But the time will come that you grow older, and then your prick will not be as hard as it used to be, and it will not stand up as quickly as you want it to. And then you will see what I mean… three-fourths of the time you will only get half a hard-on; you will come merely by poking around at the entrance of the cunt, trying to get in. And your beloved woman will make you feel like an impotent asshole. Nothing can be more vicious than a woman who has not been satisfied… and then you will, just like me, reach the point where you prefer the little choir boys, whose little, vibrating joysticks will stand up straight as a rod without any trouble at all.
“And since we are alone here, allow me to warn you against certain bigoted bitches who usually come to communion every day. I have fucked every single one of them, and I am sure that they will try and attack your dong at the first chance they get. Just don't waste your time and energy on them.
“First there is Madame Denis, the redhead. I am sure you must have noticed her when you celebrated Mass. She is tall and strong, and she was sitting near the aisle. Oh, I have seen her. Her eyes devoured you while she pretended to pray. I can guess what she prayed for: 'Oh, dear Father in Heaven, grant me the happiness to feel the dong of this young and strong priest in my hole. I will sing your praise for all eternity.' And I tell you, her asshole is so loose that you can stick in your fist up to your elbow without her even noticing it. And her cunt is so wide that a stallion could fuck her and she wouldn't even come. Besides, she stinks like a billy goat, and her sweat is so nauseating that you can only fuck her with the window open, even in the middle of the winter.
“And then I must tell you about Madame Chaufignard. She is an elegant, vivacious brunette with a soft, fleshy body and her hot, passionate eyes will not leave you in doubt as to what she is after. She was the one who constantly kneeled throughout the Mass.”
“Oh, that one. Yes, I have seen her.”
“Well, this female has a 'block,' and she can only come when you rub or lick her tickler. A miserable history. You can go miles out of your way without any results. Besides, you can never compete with that dog of hers.”
“With her dog?”
“Oh, of course, you could not have known that… Yes, I have given Madame Chaufignard the nickname, 'Doggiebride.' And I can also tell you why. I had been trying to fuck that woman for weeks, and had no success whatsoever. Spying on her, I noticed that she would go out every day to lover's lane, but she would select a time that nobody would be there. It is a rather lonely spot, a mile or so out of town. One day, I decided to go ahead of her, and I hid under some bushes, close to the tree where she always used to sit. I waited. Soon she appeared. Her eyes were half-closed, she gazed into the distance, in short, she behaved like a woman who is about to experience the delights of carnal pleasure. She carried her little dog, a miserable dachshund, a book and a little bag. Dog, book and bag undoubtedly had to mean something. The title of the book was, 'Sister Paloma, the Lesbian,' and the little bag was filled with whipped cream! She was about six feet away from me when she sat down. Obviously, she had no idea that I was hiding in the bushes. She was leaning against a tree and I could see the delightful outline of her
