“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!”
As he dug his finger to the hilt a final time and arched himself so that his furiously burdened cock could probe to the deepest recesses of her Venus, Desiree uttered a shrill shriek of transported ecstasy, which the good father promptly smothered by covering her mouth with his. Their bodies writhed and quaked in savage chaos, till at length they rolled off the cot onto the floor where they expired simultaneously amid sobbing and groaning gasps of mingled rapture.
Perching on the edge of the sagging cot, I watched with growing admiration as Father Lawrence, finding himself now in command of the situation—by rolling off, he had managed to come atop and astride his beautiful mount—at once began to fuck her again with an even greater voracity.
“Ohhh, Your Reverence,” Desiree breathed, “what a marvel you are! Even though I feel your hot spunk seething in my vitals, your blade is still wonderfully hard—oh, how it digs inside of me and finds tiny niches which it had not touched before—oh, why did not Providence grant that you saw me first in the cask this afternoon?”
“It is not mete to question the will of Providence, my daughter,” Father Lawrence gently admonished her without losing a single tempo in vigorous rhythm of plowing her well-lubricated cleft. “Is it not enough for you that I am employing your excellent services now? This is half the trouble with the world, that it pines for fantasies and does not show gratitude for what it is granted. Always remember that, my child. Now hold me tightly in your beautiful arms, and clasp your firm thighs over my buttocks so that I may not become unsaddled as we ride towards our elysian bliss together!”
Desiree at once complied and locked him with her magnificent, sturdy, satiny thighs, while he accelerated his thrusts till her face turned his way and that as a second transport neared. Once again she opened her mouth to cry out her fervent thanks for the excitement he had evoked within her loins, but the good father silenced her as he had done before. His lips and tongue feasted on hers, and they rolled over and over on the floor as the paroxysm struck them both at the same time.
When at last tranquility had calmed their inflamed senses, it was the Amazonian housekeeper who first cried a halt to this tryst, saying that she would fain spend the rest of the night in the arms of so demanding an employer, but must humbly beg a respite so that she might get up early at dawn to prepare Pere Mourier's breakfast.
When she finally crept out of his little room, she went back to hers with the lagging step of one who is joyously fatigued. Her soft sighs were like wafting summer breezes, a sign that for the time at least, the insatiable passions of this magnificent Amazon were satiated. As for Father Lawrence, he went back to his cot, stretched himself out on his back, pillowing his head on his arms, and fast fell asleep with a smile on his face that was doubtless an expression of the pleasure he had in so warm a welcome to this little village of Provence.
CHAPTER TEN
The next day was virtually a holiday also, because the celebration of the harvest had caused the villagers to drink copiously of the good wine and many to quaff in excess, so that they slept like the dead till nearly noon. Besides, there was, I am quite sure, a veritable orgy of fornication in every cottage, and this physical excess coupled with over-indulgence in wine brings a delicious torpor even to the youngest and most vigorous. At any rate, Pere Mourier, after having his breakfast, left the rectory about noon to pay another call on Monsieur Claude Villiers for the purpose of making certain that the banns between that estimable patron and the virgin Laurette would officially be read the following Sunday. Also, as he informed Desiree, he wished to visit Laurette and her parents after having seen the patron so that there would be clarification on the part of all concerned in this important ceremony. Father Lawrence, who woke a little before the obese French priest, shared breakfast with him, and apologetically requested that he, rather than Pere Mourier, be allowed to speak on his own behalf to Madame Hortense Bernard with the aim of securing board and shelter during his stay in Languecuisse.