feel its wonders against my bare skin before you put it into me!”
The naked priest was shuddering with sexual fever; he plunged his fingers into the long chestnut tresses of his naked, buxom housekeeper, his face screwed up in torment, and began to comply with her devious request. But no sooner had he managed two or three rubbings back and forth between the squeezed-together globes of her satiny bosom then he uttered a hoarse cry and shot forth all his seed. “The devil take it, my daughter, you have made me lose my strength,” he whined. The housekeeper promptly rose and scurried to procure a handkerchief from the drawer of his dresser, with which she sponged her sperm-glistening bosom and chest and throat. Wheedlingly she returned to him, a solicitous look on her boldly lovely features, cooing, “I beg Your Reverence's pardon, for truly I did not mean to offend you. Yet Your Reverence does not need any further proof to me that he is wonderfully endowed to satisfy my needs. There will be other times for us, have no fear of that, for it is a great honor and privilege for me to serve Your Reverence in any way I can.”
His cock was limp and flaccid now, a sorry sight after its once ferocious estate. Pere Mourier sighed and shook his head: “Alas, I fear it may be a sign that the moment is not propitious. It is not seemly that I should entertain carnal thoughts upon my housekeeper, for it would appear to you that my association with that forward young minx stimulated me to unnatural desires which I sought to vent upon your defenseless person. I shall go to sleep, my daughter.” Another weary sigh as he sank down into bed and promptly closed his eyes.
The naked beauty came to his bedside, bent down and applied a chaste kiss on his forehead, murmuring, “May Your Reverence have sweet dreams, then. I will prepare a delicious breakfast for you and your guest tomorrow.”
“My mind is not at this moment on my stomach,” the fat priest dolefully quipped, “but you have my blessing all the same. A good night to you, Madame Desiree.”
“And to you, Your Reverence,” the naked beauty made a curtsy. Then swiftly she put back on her blouse and skirt and left the room.
I followed her, as you may well comprehend. For now I understood what the good Dames Lucille and Margot had meant when they had told their husbands that there were ways of defeating the lustful purpose of the old patron if they should have been summoned to service him as part of their prize for winning the grape-trampling contest. The Amazonian beauty had ingeniously defeated Pere Mourier's determination to fuck her by the simple dint of draining off his spunk before it could even reach her matrix. And now she was on her way to the little room which Father Lawrence occupied; this ruse of hers had been perpetrated so that she might keep a late nocturnal tryst with this vigorous English ecclesiast who had so taken her fancy and already plowed her furrow in a way that joyed her.
Father Lawrence's door had not been locked, so it was easy enough for the chestnut haired Amazon to knock three times, then slip inside and then to bolt it so that no one might interrupt their session. In a moment, she had rid herself of blouse and skirt and was Eve-naked. Licking her red lips with the tip of her nimble pink tongue, she rubbed her flanks with nervous hands as she approached the cot on which the English ecclesiast lay.
“What fair visitation is this?” Father Lawrence murmured as he raised his head.
“It is only myself, Your Reverence. My employer has taken to his bed and will not need me for the rest of the night. And under the law of hospitality, I wished to look in upon you and see to your comforts,” purred the handsome wench. She knelt down beside the cot, leaning towards him so that the opulent fruits of her naked bosom dangled temptingly within reach. He groped out his hand and encountered one of those luscious turrets, and his fingers savoringly closed over the magnificent love-canteloupe.
“Your hospitality is the most delicious that has ever been tendered to me, my lovely daughter,” he hoarsely murmured. “But I would have you remember that I did not constrain you to make this sacrifice.”
“Oh, Your Reverence, it is of my own free will and eagerness. And it is no sacrifice, but rather for my own selfish pleasure. I long to feel your great cock thrusting deep within my little crevice,” whispered the beautiful, chestnut haired widow. She in turn now stretched out a soft hand and discovered that Father Lawrence had gone to bed in his natural state. The rigid, boldly erect structure of his sexual organ lofted between his thighs like a semaphore. It was this edifice which the charming wench first touched, as if by unerring instinct. At once her fingers closed over her prize, not wishing to relinquish it till it had performed its noble work within her cunny's valorous citadel. “C'est incroyable!” she breathed, “why, it is even bigger than the first time. You are surely more valorous than my worthy employer, who after but a single emission of his holy fluid, acknowledged himself defeated in his desires.”
“This is the result of good English beef, daily constitutionals, long hours of meditation and a certain continence in withholding my vigor till an occasion worthy of it presents itself,” responded the English ecclesiastic. “But I fear that this cot is far too narrow to accommodate the two of us for dalliance.”
“Oh, begging Your Reverence's pardon, for I would never dare to contradict so eminent a personage as yourself, there is a way if you will but permit me to show it to you,” Desiree murmured seductively.
“I am always eager to learn new and useful knowledge, my beautiful daughter,” was Father Lawrence's riposte. At this, the naked Amazon got astride him. Though it was pitch black in this little room off the kitchen, her female instincts guided her towards what she wanted. Crouching over him, she took hold of his vigorously swollen cock with her left hand whilst with thumb and median finger of her right she yawned wide open the moist pink twitching lips of her libidinous cunt. Then, sinking down very slowly, she introduced the meatus of his organ well within the warm lobbyway of her matrix. “Oh, it is hardly inside me, yet it thrills me beyond words!” she announced in a breathless whisper.
Father Lawrence lay prone at his ease, while content to let the chestnut haired housekeeper take such intimate initiative with him. Desiree sank down a little more, till the head of his throbbing organ moved just into her vaginal sheath. Then, assured that it was well within her keeping, she flattened herself over him, her big juicy breasts mashing hard against his straining chest as his arms welcomed her by clasping together over her smoothly satin back. Now in his turn, wanting to imprison her for complete enjoyment, the English ecclesiastic spread his muscular legs, then clamped them resolutely over the Amazonian widow's rippling, naked thighs. Her hands reached under his shoulders to grip him tenaciously as she groaned with pleasure to feel his massive organ dig to the very roots within her churning love-canal.
“Ahh, how good it is,” she moaned. “You pack me so tightly that my poor little spot can hardly breathe! Oh, let us lie like this a long while, so that I can summon all my poor strength to deal with such a monster inside of me!”
“I will give it to your keeping with my full confidence and trust, my daughter,” he panted. Retaining his left arm around her sculptured naked back, Father Lawrence groped with his left forefinger down along her spinal column till he had reached the chinkbone and thence the shadowy, narrow cleft between her jouncy bottom cheeks. Desiree, comprehending his motive, wriggled and squirmed over him till his fingertip brushed the sensitive rosebud of her behind. Having attained his objective, he pried the lips apart and entered his finger to the knuckle, then began to move it about slowly in her nether passageway.
“Aaahh, I shall die of pleasure from it, Your Reverence!” the beautiful naked widow sobbed. She fused her mouth to his, and furled in her pink tongue. Her nipples were daggers of flinty-hard passion as they scraped against his heaving chest, and her body was aglow with erotic energy. Now slowly she lifted her hips a little, feeling his ramrod grudgingly recede from the innermost crannies of her hot, voracious cunt. Her groan of delirium was matched by his own gasp of rapture from the effect of this fornicatory friction; his forefinger dug to the very hilt within her bottom-hole. Thus stimulated, the naked housekeeper sunk down to impale herself to their very hairs, and now his tongue thrust between her parted lips to fan the flames of her furious lascivious-ness. The cot creaked its protest against their combined weight, but they had no heed for this whatsoever.
“What a great pity, Your Reverence,” Desiree tremulously gasped during her transports, “that Pere Mourier engaged me just before you arrived in Languecuisse! Ohh, how good it is to feel you in both my crevices—oh, I beg of you, do not stop what you are doing to me, it is divine! With all respect to his holiness, I should have loved being your housekeeper instead—aahhh, you are bringing me close, Your Reverence!”
“Never mind, my eager daughter,” Father Lawrence gasped as he renewed his zeal, arching now to meet her wriggling perorations on his manly harpoon, the while his finger plunged in and drew back out of her quaking nether chasm, “during my sojourn in this charming village, I shall be happy to act as your confessor at any time you choose—always understanding, of course, that my worthy colleague and brother in the faith does not otherwise occupy you at the times you choose to visit me—now, my daughter, the moment is at hand for me as well, let me feel your responding strength!”
