Feature Writer: laplappapillon
Feature Title: BLESS ME FATHER 6 by Laplappapillon
Published: 26.07.2010
Story Codes: Religious Themes
Synopsis: Dangerous liaisons
Bless Me Father 6 – Dangerous liaisons
Part 1
Mary rose at 6 a.m. resisting the urge to stroke her hands along her belly; she drove herself into the shower. Switching on the radio to her favorite, unchallenging channel, she luxuriated in the cascade as Debussy’s Claire-de-Lune permeated her body. Such simple cadence providing such pleasure, Mary could easily have dwelt for hours, but the prospects of the day drove her swiftly to her towel and a robust rub-down before dressing.
Christine was half an hour ahead, she wanted to catch Mary before breakfast and give her a little gift she had found in the market the day before. She did not have to worry too much about preparing breakfast this morning as only Father Vincent was at home. She settled herself in the window seat, her legs curled under her and waited for Mary’s footfall.
“Good morning my dear.” Mary lit up the room when she finally entered and announced, “I am going for a walk in the gardens this morning before breakfast, work up an appetite, watch the birds and pick some flowers….a couple of poached eggs will be perfectly fine.” Mary smiled and turned to leave.
“Memento, senora,” Christine smiled back, “I have little gift for you.”
Christine twisted round in her seat to pick up a small package, as she turned, her nylon overall slid up her thigh, exposing the curve of her rump. Without a doubt it was just about the most perfect bottom a woman could wish for and Mary put her hand to her mouth and watched its’ swollen bulge above those perfect thighs, a warm glow spread through her loins.
Christine’s command of the English language improved each day, however, her occasional and endearing faux pas often brought a smile to Sr. Mary’s face
“I saw this and wanted you to have it, Sister. I hope it makes you skipping happy in the garden.” she beamed, handing Mary a beautifully gold-ribbon-wrapped, shiny scarlet packet.
Mary was not unused to receiving gifts, friendly and grateful parishioners would give her pots of honey or woolen scarves, flowers, books and all manner of religious bric-a-brac which she accepted in good grace and promptly offloaded to the Catholic charity shop. She often smiled at the prospect of some beaming little orphan sitting around in the shade, somewhere in Africa proudly wearing a woolly scarf, fanning its’ face with a copy of ‘People’s Friend, October 1978′
“Why, thank you my dear, how thoughtful and kind of you,” she responded to the gift.
“No problems, Sister, meu prazer, you are very good to me and I know there are some things a Nun just can’t buy.”
Curiosity aroused, Mary unwrapped her gift and the faint scent of perfume touched her senses as she unfolded the inner, pink tissue paper. At first it didn’t really register what she was holding, then she felt her cheeks turn pink as she ran her fingers over a beautiful creamy-white, satin brassiere and knickers. They were beautifully trimmed in silk with dainty little lace embroidered rosebuds. She fondled the material between her fingers as she pondered a response.
“It is easy for me, Senora, I can go Marks and Spencer, buy sexy knickers, take them to counter, pay and nobody even cares. You do not have this freedom I think, and there is no reason why a Nun shouldn’t have pretty things – nothing in the bible says that”
Christine looked her squarely in the eyes, the two women had shared sexual encounters and an unspoken discretion was skillfully employed by both.
“You are absolutely right, Christine.” Mary replied,” it is a lovely gift. In fact I shall wear them when I return from my walk, adios my dear, make sure Father Vincent is aroused!”
“Adios Senora – I shall arouse him in no flat minutes!”
Christine watched her elegant, robe-clad form glide along the corridor. Hidden beneath that habit was a superbly preserved body and the nuances of womanhood were betrayed at the hips and the bodice, making Mary even sexier. As the Nun disappeared, she turned her attention to Father Vincent. He should be up by now.
Vincent had lain awake for half an hour; nothing would reduce the heat in his thighs or the swelling of his manhood. The recent, unsolicited molestation by two pairs of women had both shocked and aroused him in equal measure and he didn’t quite know what to do.
Eyes closed, he wrapped his ample fist around his warm shaft and began to move it up and down, just as Christine reached the door. She stooped to peek through the keyhole to hopefully catch a glimpse of him half-naked. What she did see, however, was a completely naked priest slowly touching his very impressive cock.
Almost unconsciously she licked her lips, crossed her fingers and gently tried the doorknob. Unlocked as always, it silently moved ajar and she quietly moved into the room, squatted by the doorframe and watched as the pace of his hand quickened.
“I can do that for you Father. I can stroke your lovely cock and make it hard and spurty”
Vincent almost jumped out of his skin and in reflex pulled a sheet across himself to hide his embarrassment. He groaned slightly as he watched Christine squatting against the wall, her tongue protruding slightly, breasts pressed impudently from her nylon overall and legs slowly spreading in open invitation.
“Wank your cock for me, Vincent” she invited, “show me how hard you can be.”
Impossibly compromised, he meekly obeyed, his arousal heightened by Christine’s wide-spread thighs. She stood slightly ungainly, exposing even more and approached the bed. Vincent lay back, closed his eyes and placed his arm across his face to blot out his shame as he felt the girl take position alongside him. Top to toe, she placed her feet near his head and nestled her head on his thigh, the bursting bulge inches from her mouth.
Reaching forward, she placed her hand around the stem and moved it up and down, her tongue snaked out and began to lick the length and around the base, gently pulling his testicles into her mouth, squeezing them with her tongue then sliding them out again. Eventually she pulled the head towards her lips and lapped the sticky recess before pulling him engorged into her mouth. Vincent’s eyes opened and quickly it registered that he was staring between her legs and her very busy fingers were deftly squeezing and rubbing her clitoris. The distinct scent off her sex wafted into his nostrils and a surge of something primitive pulsed into his cock.
Christine mewed her approval and sucked with all her enthusiasm, she just adored man-juice and especially the moment before orgasm as the muscle bulged and spasmed, then the climax itself as it splashed on her face, bottom, her breasts or her quim lips.
Removing him from her mouth, seconds before eruption, she tightened her grip slightly as she felt the first gush arrive and watched open-mouthed as the jet of milky white, creamy fluid spurted a foot in the air, splashing her hands and face and his belly as it landed. She darted her head forward and caught the second gush in her mouth, feeling the sticky splashing into her throat. She allowed the warmth to dribble around her mouth, lapping it with her tongue as her own orgasm struck.
Vincent was slightly lost, he felt he should do something, but didn’t know where to begin, so he clumsily reached for her breasts and began to squeeze. He could feel the stiff nipples through her clothes and the solid curve of breasts. Naive tweaking and fondling seemed to be having the desired effect and he jumped, startled, as Christine moaned, gasped and twitched with climax.
Christine stroked and patted him in reassurance, kissing him on the cheek as she rose from the sin-bed. “Thank you ver’ much Father, you are yummy, I shall prepare you some mushroom omelette and nice cup of tea?”
In a welter of confusion, he watched as the blue nylon bundle of sex straightened her clothes, smiled coyly and headed for the kitchen.
“Don’t be too long Father! No one wants a warmed-up omelet!”
Part 2
Jennifer dreamily opened her eyes, a solid shaft of sunlight spanned the room above her head, stopped dead in its’ tracks, both physically and artistically by the pastel lilac bedroom wall. Ignoring this conflict, she turned and nestled her body cozily into her darling friend.
Warm, half-awake and indescribably compliant, Marilyn languidly stretched herself to the morning, her arms splayed above and behind her as she arched her back from the mattress.
Poised in this rainbow’s arc, she felt simultaneously fingertips tracing both the length of her spine and gently circling her tummy button. She mewed her approval and relaxed into the finger sandwich.
Both girls wore insignificant nighties and lay for a while caressing and stroking each other through the diaphanous material. Jennifer teasing the crinkled peaks of Marilyn’s breasts until they stood up like organ stops which she tweaked and nibbled with her lips. Marilyn busied herself caressing Jen’s thighs and bottom through her nightie, single handedly spreading her cheeks and pressing the material into the groove.
Jennifer spoke first.”We should really be getting ready, Mar’, we promised to be at the church at ten to help with the flowers for Sunday”
“I know, I know, but this is just so nice.” she sighed
“Sr. Mary’s little Portuguese chum will be there, with her pouting little mouth and pert little bum for us to ogle” Jen coaxed her.
“Do you think Sr. Mary has dipped her fingers into that little pie and used that tight bum as a pillow?”
“We both know Mary’s persuasions, Mar’ and I can’t imagine she hasn’t. There is only one way to find out if the girlie likes a bit of action, if we harness our resources and switch on our best seduction techniques, who knows what fun we can have.”
“One small thing, Jen’, don’t let me see you getting dressed, I want the thrill of surprise”
Jennifer giggled her assent and jumped out of bed, giving Marilyn a teasing glimpse of her thighs before disappearing into the bathroom. Marilyn lay back with a sigh and contented herself by caressing her breasts and armpits, idly speculating what she may wear to church.
Sulking slightly at her solitary condition, she abandoned her glorious nipples and rolled from the bed, crawling petulantly to the wardrobe, she opened the door and assessed the contents with a skilful eye. The dress had to be pretty and sexy and frivolous…thin and floaty to show off the shape of her body and that tantalizing hint of her undies.
She settled for a 1950’s style, strapless and sleeveless summer frock, primrose and white with a countryside print of buttercups and brimstone butterflies – the strong yellows endowed the whole creation with a strong sense of sunshine. She put her hand up inside the skirt in an imaginary exploration before plucking it from its’ hanger and spreading it out on the bed.
Her undies drawers were next, a minefield of silks and satins, nylon and cotton in every hue imaginable. She delighted in the whole palette, keeping knickers, garter belts and stockings in one drawer, with brassieres and slips in the other. On a shopping spree, Marilyn never chose her underwear, the underwear chose her. A pair of custard cream or sky-blue satin knickers would reach from a display and caress her cheek…she would pluck the pretty confection from its’ perch and glide seamlessly to the check-out, pay whatever it said on the ticket and scurry home to add them to the gallery.
She picked out a pair of salmon colored, satin knickers with a white broderie trim, and she knew that they had a matching bra and garter belt, having bought the ensemble as a set. A pair of sheer tan stockings and salmon sling backs finished the whole creation perfectly and she grew quite excited at the prospect of dressing herself and enticing her darling Jennifer, Mary and the plump rumped Portuguese maid. Who knows, even the reluctant priest could show up.
A sudden shout broke her reverie
“Shower’s free!”
Jennifer appeared on the landing, wrapped in a huge white towel, her hair damp and wispy, her skin pink and shiny. Marilyn suddenly couldn’t resist, she reached and pulled her friend tightly towards her, kissing her full on the lips.
“You look delicious, friend.”
Jennifer responded by squeezing her bottom and whispering lustily into her ear, “Don’t you dare wank off in that shower, Marilyn!”
Tugging herself free, she pushed Mar’ towards the shower and headed for the kitchen. Coffee and radio occupied her mind before heading for the bedroom to dry her hair, apply her war-paint of seduction and neatly dress herself.
Jennifer felt quite comfortable sharing Marilyn’s underwear, they alternated wherever they happened to be and it gave both of them great delight knowing that they were wearing each others’ skimpies. She chose carefully, selecting a pale grey satin set, virtually identical to Marilyn’s choice. She loved this color and the way it darkened when it became damp, betraying her arousal.
She had selected a dark maroon dress, slightly heavier than necessary, but the waisted, front buttoned dress had a very sexy flare and the front opened just wide enough to enable anyone casually interested to see the edge of her bra and the globes of her pouting breasts.
Both women dressed and applied their make-up simultaneously in separate rooms, a habit formed from years of experience on their ‘nights out.’ They relished each others’ little fashion parades and found them to be highly arousing, to the point where occasionally they would never make it to the front door and find themselves locked in their sexual acrobatics until the wee, small hours, their faces smudged in lipstick, clothes awry, sweating and grinning like idiots. It was a minor miracle that they had never been caught in the act, but fortune smiled on their bravado and the charmed relationship flourished unnoticed.
The girls were economic with their make-up, most of the time they only had each other to impress and that took little effort. Jennifer had little patience for it, conventionally pretty anyway, so long as her hair looked nice and her skin unblemished, she was quite happy. Marilyn had a slight artistic flair and would spend a little time with eyeliner and eye shadow, blusher and gloss to enhance her bone structure and beautiful eyes.
Jennifer was inevitably ready a full five minutes before Mar’ and sashayed over to the mirror, twirling and flicking the hem of her dress, happy to see that she looked fresh and sexy, she called out, knowing full well she would have time to kill.
“Is my favorite tartlet ready yet?”
“Five seconds, honey muff!”
“Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Ice-water, please, with some splashes of Jif!”
“Sounds good, think I’ll join you…hurry up, you lazy fanny, it’s half nine!”
Drinks poured, she perched her chin in the crook of her palms to gaze out of the window. Resting her elbows on the worktop, she watched with delight as a squirrel kitten chased a magpie on the lawn. The youngster was no bigger than a hamster with a springy bush of a tail, much longer than its body. It bounced after the startled magpie in demented bounds. The tormented bird squawked in alarm and took to the sky. She found herself laughing out loud as the little monster disappeared into the skirts of the silver birch.
A sudden whiff of perfume drifted across her senses. She would recognize it anywhere, Marc Jacob’s fruitfest ‘uber-cool’ kissed her nose as the bronze lips of her girlfriend kissed the nape of her neck. She hadn’t heard Marilyn’s footfall and the kiss sent a shiver of excitement tingling down her spine.
“What are you giggling at?”asked Mar; breathily.
Jen’ replied, “I was watching a little furry beastie playing”
“You been looking down your knickers again?” teased Mar.
Giggling, Jen answered, “That’s your job, missus”
“Is that an invitation?” winked Mar’.
“You look wonderful”
“So do you”
“Give me a twirl”
Marilyn opened the patio door to pirhouette in circular dance around the lawn, the hem of her dress flicking seductively around her thighs. Jennifer clapped her approval and mimicked the spin, swirling towards the lemon dervish in little orbits until they collided. She grasped Mar’ from behind and cupped her breasts in her hands
“Are you ready for some fun, gorgeous?” Jen’ questioned with a smirk
Mar’ glanced over her shoulder, “Hot as a pie and getting damper by the second.”
The sensation of stiffening nipples and Jennifer’s perfume were making her light-headed and she allowed herself a moment’s indulgence before breaking free.
“Is that the Lolita Lempicka, Jen’, it is so intoxicating?”
Mmm she said, “lovely, ain’t it?”
Jen replied, “It’s like spicy flowers”
“Is it making your head spin?”
“I could fuck a rhino.” Jen’ replied.
Jennifer sidled around her and stood nose to nose. She slid her tongue wetly into Marilyn’s mouth and several snake-like flickers later, whispered in her ear, “That is what I intend to do to that lovely slit of yours.”
With a wink Mar’ replied, “Just call me syrup sponge”
The girls linked arms and headed for the church. The squirrel seen on the lawn earlier sat in the crook of a branch, idly gnawing at an acorn it had hidden in the bark. An apparent smile set into its’ tiny jaws as it watched them disappear. The great joy of being a squirrel is the opportunity to see everything from a vantage point. It had looked down the front of two women’s dresses already this morning and it wasn’t even ten o’clock.
THE END OF CHAPTER SIX