I could see it in your eyes… and that is the only reason I had to see you. Wasn't that nice of me?”
“Of course… just don't stop jacking me off…”
“But the little boy hampers me.”
“Throw him on the bed!”
“But what if he begins to cry?”
“Then we'll just have to let him cry… I just can't hold it up much longer. I am about to come.”
“So am I…”
“I've got to stick it in… quick… get rid of the brat…”
The young woman carried the child toward the bed, but she had barely time to put it down. The priest had grabbed her and thrown her on the floor. But this time he had to grapple with a strong and experienced partner. The young woman squirmed and bucked, threw herself sideways, retracted, pushing her cunt toward him; in short, she behaved like a wild tiger, intent upon enjoying her pleasure to the fullest extent. Then she pulled away again, fingering his asshole, squeezing his balls and her eager lips were sucking the tip of his bursting prick. The priest knew now what a woman is capable of doing when she is turned on by a gigantic, stiff cock. She finally let him stick it into her, and his knob and shaft disappeared into her warm, well-oiled cunt. It was the most delightful pleasure he had ever tasted.
They copulated madly on the floor for at least an hour, and Theresa's mother spasmed several times. The good priest, himself an athlete in the bedroom, began to have a deep respect for her. She was absolutely insatiable and could match every one of his wild desires.
Finally, she begged the priest to give her a moment's respite. He remembered her daughter's accident all too well and said, “The toilet is at the end of the hall, right next to my study.”
“Fine, but I have no intention to catch a cold. If you don't mind, I'll wear your cassock.” Pineraide showed his newfound mistress where to go, and returned quite naked to his bedroom.
He must have been possessed by the devil that day, because in spite of all his efforts, his prick was beginning to get hard again. When he came back into his bedroom, he saw the little boy had awakened and was sitting on the pillow, looking at him curiously.
“Mommie, Mommie,” the little boy began to whine.
“She is shitting,” grunted the priest, “and shut up, you little asshole.”
But the child, afraid of the priest's gruff voice, began to cry again.
“Oh, God, that's all I need,” groaned the priest, “the little bastard begins to howl again. I wish I had something I could stick in his mouth.”
The answer appeared to him in a flash.
“Hohoho! How would you like to suck my dick, little kiddie. Isn't that funny. Come on, give Uncle Anatole a blow job,” and he walked over to the bed, rubbing his prick against the little boy's face. “Here, take it. Suck! See what a nice big lollipop!”
Actually, the priest was quite surprised when the little brat stopped crying, and instead grabbed for the huge pole the priest offered him. The child laughed happily and began to play with the prick.
But no matter what he tried, the good father did not succeed in making the child do what the little goat had done so well.
When the priest finally realized that he was getting nowhere, he went into the pantry and dipped his dong in the strawberry jam. With triumphant smile he returned to the filthy little brat who eagerly began to suck the sweetened prick…
Soon the tickling of the little tongue began to show its effect. The priest's hard-on was considerable, and he began to get good and horny again. He was just about ready to grab the kid, turn him over on his stomach, and fuck him in the ass, when the mother returned from the toilet. She saw what was going on, and Father Pineraide was prepared for a terrible scene. However, the woman said very quietly, “No, let's not do that. You might hurt him. But, if you want to come in a fantastic burst of pleasure, I have an idea. Lift him up, high over your head, and stick your tongue in his butt. I'll kneel in front of you and lick off the rest of the strawberry jam. You'll see, it's divine.”
It was said and done! The little one balanced precariously in the air, and it was most likely for the first time that his little ass was cornholed by the eager, hot tongue of a priest. The tyke seemed to like it very much, because his little legs kicked lustily and he crowed with pleasure. Meanwhile, his mother had knelt down and was pumping the long, throbbing prick according to all the rules of the art. She was also masturbating herself furiously, and her free hand was expertly massaging the balls of Father Pineraide.
And just at the moment when the good priest could no longer hold back, coming with huge spurts into the mouth of Theresa's mother; just when Theresa's mother had her body racked with delicious spasms; just when the little brat reached the peak of his exuberance by farting in the face of Father Pineraide… just at that delicious moment of pure ecstasy, the door opened!
The old housekeeper had forgotten her cape. She looked, saw… screamed, and fainted.
CHAPTER VI. Resurrection
When Father Pineraide saw his old housekeeper faint, he lost his nerve, and he dropped the little boy. Fortunately, the brat landed upon the rumpled bed.
“Oh, for God's sake!” the priest exclaimed, “I am ruined. The old bitch is going to run into the village, blabber all over the place, and then she is going to the bishop to tell him what she has seen!”
And, drying his balls, he began to think about how to get himself out of this mess.
The young woman, on the other hand, did not seem in the least perturbed or confused. She dressed quickly, that is true, then took her little baby in her arms, and took her leave of the priest.
“I hope, Father, that it will not be the last time that I have had the opportunity to play with your beautiful dingaling. I hope to see you and that gorgeous cock of yours, soon again.”
“Yes, yes,” answered the priest, “but first I have to make sure that my housekeeper will keep her blabbermouth shut.”
Theresa's mother left, and Pineraide did not bother to show her to the door. The old housekeeper was still in a deep faint, stretched out full length on the carpet. The good Father Anatole bent over her and called her name repeatedly.
“Gertrud, Gertrud!”
The priest shook her. Miss Gertrud did not move. Her old body was limp and seemed lifeless.
“Well, now, I can't let her lie here on the carpet,” mused Pineraide, “that would be sort of inhumane. I'll just have to pick her up and put her on the bed.”
His strong arms picked her up as if she were light as a feather, and he carried her to his bed. The old lady seemed to be choking and thus it became necessary to loosen her corset. For this, he had to take off her dress and pull off her petticoats. He was pleasingly surprised when he noticed that her skin was soft and very white.
“I'll be damned,” he mumbled. “Who would have thought that the old hag still has so much desirable flesh on her body. I have only known her for two days, and I haven't really had a chance to get to know her. But it seems that the old dame deserves more credit than I gave her. She must be at least fifty years old, she could easily be my mother, and she looks very well preserved. Her face is wrinkled and ugly, but her tits sure have a lot of mileage left in them. Jesus, these old crones are full of weird surprises. I wonder if the rest of her is still useful… I'll take off the rest of her clothes. After all, I have good reason, because it seems to me that she is about to choke to death.”
And the priest began to undress his old housekeeper. He first wanted to take off her horrible corset, but that was not as easy as it seemed. He had to remove her dress which was difficult, because the old lady remained completely limp. When he had finally succeeded, he discovered that the rest of her clothing was rather skimpy. He had expected a lot of knit, warm underwear. Instead, he saw two milk-white breasts and well-rounded shoulders.
He began to regain some of his courage. His boldness began to excite him, and his curiosity spurred him on to divest the woman of the remainder of her clothing. He quickly pulled down her petticoats and stockings, and then he began the hard task of unhooking that terrible corset. All she wore now was a thin chemise. Having gone this far, the priest decided that he might as well go all the way. His housekeeper would be fighting mad anyway when
