“Oooh, m – mon Pere, well, perhaps just once, but it was over and not inside of my culottes. And that was on the day when he swore to me that he truly wished to wed with me, last week, when I begged him to help Denise and me to reach Calais.”
“So, my daughter, you have not been entirely honest with me, telling me at first, as you did, that it was only through the expedient of a few harmless kisses that Guillaume was willing to be your accomplice in this naughty and thoughtless escapade. Well, for your penance, since I now am not priest but man beside you, as Guillaume was, you shall have the proper conclusion of these licentious advances which you yourself contrived to bring about. And if I mistake not, Louisette, Guillaume must certainly have behaved very much as I shall now. I am going to tickle your tender little cunny, just as I am sure he either must have done or at least dreamed passionately of so doing. Ah, how delicate and dainty the lips are, and how they quiver and shrink with sensitivity though my forefinger scarcely brushes them! Oh, what is this? I feel a suspicious moisture, like the first drops of the morning dew upon the rose! And you begin to wriggle your saucy bottom on the bed as you feel my touch, do you not, Louisette? No, do not try to move away, for remember that we are enacting in full candor and unashamedly the secret tryst between you and myself who am now Guillaume!”
“Ooo, aahh, m – mon Pere, mon – oh, Guillaume, Guillaume, I cannot stand what you are doing, it is so sweet, it is so torturing, ohhh, mon petit con, you are making me burn with longing!”
Louisette's sweet clear voice had now taken on a huskiness not unlike Denise's. He had achieved that confession of fleshly weakness by frigging her soft virgin cunny.
“Now, my daughter,” he continued in a voice that was hoarser than ever, “you must tell me what he did with his left hand, which in your recital seems to have been unoccupied all that while. Take your own hand and hold my left and guide it to the place which Guillaume admired on that occasion.”
“Oh, Father, I – I shouldn't ever dare!”
“Take care, my daughter, lest I visit severe penances upon you for all your naughty deception. Do as I order, and no harm will befall you.”
“V – very well, mon Pere. It was here that Guillaume's left hand applied.”
“On your tittie! Oh, the rogue, the young scoundrel! Do you not see, my daughter, that by trying to play the guileless fool Parsifal, he was ingeniously achieving the goal of Lucifer himself! Taking pity on his innocence, as your good, young girl's heart bade you do, you allowed him to take liberties with you which only a husband should take with his beloved bride, and this without declaration of the holy banns. Oh, the wretch, would that I had him here before me to scourge him for his lubricity!” thundered the English ecclesiastic.
Then there was a moment's silence broken by the creaking of the bed and Louisette's soft, slurred moan of fleshy rapture: “Aaahhh! Oh, where have you put your finger, F – Father, oh Guillaume, you are touching my little button now, oh, I have never felt this way before, oh, oh, mon amour, do not stop now, I am going to faint with the sweet pleasure of it!”
“Yes, dear Louisette, I am tickling your clitoris, and since I have now discovered the very key to your truest and most hidden emotions, your recital must take on the same honest display of truth. So tell me instantly, upon pain of many a penance, while Guillaume's left hand was upon your tittie, what were your own hands doing?'
“They – they – oh, mon Pere, do not make me say it!”
“But you must! The truth, my daughter!”
“They – they were touching his limbs,” Louisette faltered between two long ecstatic sighs.
“Then put those naughty little hands on my person, since I am the proxy of Guillaume.”
“It – it was somewhat thus, mon Pere,” again she faltered.
At the same instant, hardly before she had finished that sentence, Louisette uttered a soft cry of astonishment and then came these stirring words: “Oh, mon Pere, mon Pere, what is this I am touching? It is hot and hard and it trembles at my touch!”
“That, my daughter, is Guillaume's prick. Confess it now, the touch of it cannot be new to you?”
“Oh, F-Father!”
“You must answer, for the confession has not yet concluded! Do you mean to tell me, my daughter, that your soft virgin fingers dared touch the cock of this young wretch?”
“Oh yes, mon Pere, many times!” was Louisette's equally astonishing answer, followed by an impertinent little giggle as the minx forgot the seriousness of her situation and recalled the idyllic stolen moments with her young swain.
“Oh, what a forward hussy, what a Lilith, what a Borgia!” he said sadly.
“But, mon Pere, you did not ask me if I had done that. You asked me only if Guillaume and I had played husband and wife, and that I swear on my soul and on my virginity that we never did.”
Did I not say that this Louisette was the equal of any adroit antagonist who ever faced the dread Torquemada?
“At last we have the truth, my daughter. Righteousness has triumphed. Well, now, since we are still re- enacting the scene between you and that cunning rogue, I order you to repeat exactly, so far as your memory suffices, those things which the two of you perpetrated together. And you will tell me what you are doing as you proceed, so that I can detect the line between veracity and deception. Proceed, my daughter!”
There was another gasp, and then Louisette stammered, “I turned a little to face him, F – Father, and my right arm went round his shoulders so that I might kiss him more freely, knowing how shy he was and thereby preventing his breaking away from me. My other hand took hold of his bite.”
“I am not entirely familiar with that term, my daughter. Is it the same as becque?” the English ecclesiastic hoarsely demanded.
“Oh yes, F – Father, it is one and the same thing.”
“Go on, my daughter. Our English word for it is prick or cock or prong, but an imaginative maiden, like an imaginative suitor, may well find new terminology for the source of her greatest pleasure.”
“I began – I began,” Louisette was plainly embarrassed, not quite being able to forget that this proxy of Guillaume was nothing more than a mere man, “to – to stroke his bite very gently so as not to frighten him. But apparently I must have done so, since almost all at once he discharged a hot burning emission into my little palm.”
“Oh, my daughter, my daughter, that was the vital essence of life that Guillaume bestowed upon you, a veracious indication of his true intentions toward you,” Father Lawrence vehemently declaimed. Since he did not take your maidenhead, it shows that he at least has some honorable qualities to his otherwise immature nature. Well, my daughter, since I am still Guillaume beside you, perform upon me just that which you did upon him whose embodiment I am!” And now his soft voice was trembling with a fiery anticipation.
“With – with just two fingers, at first, F – Father, I had begun to stroke him – there,” Louisette confessed in a quivering tone which showed that she too was affected by this 're-enactment.'
“Ah, my daughter, if you continue thus, I promise you that you shall have all of my vital spunk. Or, to use another term which we English are most fond of in our graphic descriptions of such carnal joys, my gism, my seed, or my cockjuice. Oh, continue, my daughter, gently, gently, and I will show you that your Guillaume has more endurance than you dreamed of!”
He evidently did, for it was a long moment before I heard him utter a hoarse bellow of indescribable rapture, and all the while the bed was creaking gently as Louisette was undoubtedly plying her soft slim fingers to the mighty prick of her 'proxy swain.'
“Now, my daughter, since you have been truthful with me, and honest to the core, I will grant you dispensation and pleasure in turn. Come, hoist up your kirtle so as not to rumple it for the journey that lies ahead of us this night. Ah, what charming, slim thighs, yet so promising in their curving contours! The exquisite musculature, the satiny and breathtaking creamy skin which covers them leads my eager eyes and fingers – as was the case with my juvenile embodiment, I am certain! – towards that secretive little oasis of paradise. Ah, what a delicious pussy, what a charming, delicate – yet not too shy – adorable little cunny! How soft the little curls are which shroud it so modestly! But I cannot see them plainly enough, so you must remove your culottes. Now do not stare at me so, my daughter, for this is simply the re-enactment.”
“But, mon Pere,” Louisette stammered, “he – he did not take down my culottes that time.”
“What? Faithless jade, do you imply that on some other occasion which you have not yet confessed that he did descend your final veil of virginal modesty?”
“Oh, oui, mon – mon Pete,” came a faint avowal from the exquisite Lilith.
