“I would not wish to inflict myself sight unseen on the worthy widow, dear colleague,” he told the French priest. “You see, if you were to speak to her, she would naturally accept me in advance without ever having laid eyes on me, simply because you have her full confidence. And since I am here in Languecuisse as a vacationer, not in my official ecclesiastical capacity, I wish to be sure that she does not find me displeasing as a lodger.”
“Such delicacy and tact is admirable, my illustrious confrere,” Pere Mourier beamed. “Of a truth, I fear the visits to M'sieu Villiers and Laurette will consume much time, since they too require diplomacy and deference. And I know you are eager to settle down to your well-earned comforts, whereas here, alas, we are too small and crowded to tender you the hospitality you deserve. By all means, call upon the good Widow Bernard, and mention my name. It will suffice, I am certain.”
“Believe me, Pere Mourier, I have nothing but the highest praise for the gracious hospitality you have already accorded me here. Indeed, were I to leave your pleasant little hamlet this very day and never return, I should carry away with me the warmest memories of that hospitality.”
Father Lawrence glanced slyly up at the Amazonian housekeeper, who was in the act of pouring out another cup of coffee for her obese employer. Her face flamed, and she very nearly dropped the pewter pot, which was fortunate indeed for Pere Mourier, as the liquid was scalding hot, and had it splashed into his lap, might well have unmanned him had it burned his cock.
“Well, well, that is kindly said,” Pere Mourier beamed, “but I trust that since you will be quartered not far from my humble rectory, you will not be a stranger once you have established yourself in the abode of Madame Bernard. And now I must be off to spread the good word and to put Laurette, that mischievous little vixen, and our saintly upholder of Languecuisse, into a rapport that will lead them shortly to the altar.”
He left the room, and Desiree at once sidled up to Father Lawrence, her bold eyes warm with remembered felicity from their night together: “Your Reverence will leave me desolate,” she murmured seductively. “How shall I endure your absence for an entire month, knowing all the while that you are exposed to the temptation of that impudent trollop Hortense Bernard?”
“But, my daughter,” he cried, feigning alarm at this piece of news, “do you imply that I am to be lodged with a sinful woman?”
“Just so, Your Reverence. It is well known that her husband took to drink as a result of her infidelities and also because he could not keep up with servicing her insatiable and lewd demands. Yes, it is true! On the night that he was so unfortunately drowned in the wine vat, he had been turned out of his own cottage by that shameless hussy so that she might entertain a handsome tinker who was passing through Languecuisse that day. He had gone thence to console his sorrows in the arms of Jacqueline Aleroute, the plump wanton who is wife to the old baker Henri. And he was just easing himself into her welcoming arms when, as luck would have it, Henri took a notion to come home earlier than was his wont, for his custom is to stop at the tavern after he has baked his bread for the next day and to finish a bottle of Chablis. Surprised in the very act of cuckolding the old baker, poor Gervaise—that was the name of Hortense's husband, Your Reverence—clambered out of the window. But as his trousers were dangling about his legs, he stumbled and fell into the wine vat.”
“Your story is a tragic one, my daughter. But perhaps my presence in the abode of Madame Bernard will serve as an ameliorative influence. Through my counsel and guidance, she may be able to wrest the demon of carnal temptation from her spirit.”
“Perhaps, Your Reverence.” Desiree shook her handsome head. “But I fear she will seek to lure you to her shameless bed. The mere sight of a man in the same room with her sets her lusts aflame. And worst of all—oh, but I blush to relate it before Your Reverence!”
“Speak freely and frankly, my daughter, for there is no mortal sin with which I am not familiar. The more one knows of the devil's subtle ways of corruption, the better one is armed against them.”
“Yes, that is true, Your Reverence. Well—oh, but truly, it is so shameful that I blush out of outraged modesty even to hint of it!”
He fitted his arm round her little waist and gazed up at her with a benevolent smile as he gently responded, “I pardon you in advance, and compliment you on your modesty, my daughter. Now tell me honestly what penchant of Madame Bernard's so horrifies you.”
Desiree shivered as his arm tightened round her waist. Quickly, she bent to his ear and whispered, her opulent bosom rising and falling quickly in her emotions.
“You are certain that she prefers to be buggered, my daughter?”
“Shh, Your Reverence, you must not say such wicked words!” gasped the Amazonian housekeeper, her face crimson with sensual titillation.
“There is nothing wicked in words, my child, only in deeds. Well, then, be of good cheer, for I promise you I shall reason and remonstrate with this unfortunate woman who has not enjoyed your ascent to grace by being engaged as the housekeeper of a goodly man of the Church. I shall leave now to make the acquaintance of this misguided creature, my child. Do you recount your blessings to yourself after I am gone.”
“Yes, surely. Alas, Your Reverence!” Desiree let a languorous sigh escape her.
“What troubles you?” he rose and drew her to him, his hands squeezing the firm, jutting globes of her sumptuous backside through her skirt. “You need keep no secrets from me, my daughter, as I think you know already.”
“I—I shall be I—lonely without Your Reverence here to console me,” Desiree whimpered, her face downcast.
“Courage, my beautiful daughter! Tilt up that lovely face and give me a parting kiss of peace. I promise that you shall not be forgotten in my orisons, nor my thoughts either. If ever you are stricken with despair or aught else that troubles you greatly which your worthy employer cannot alleviate for you, I give you leave to call upon me at Madame Bernard's abode.” So saying, the English ecclesiast cupped her trembling chin with one hand and fused his lips to hers, while she wriggled lasciviously against him. Her tongue crept out and furled into his mouth as her arms wrapped around him, loath to release him. “Ohh, please, Your R—Reverence,” she breathed tremulously, “will you not appease my loneliness a last time before you depart? I am sure that once you go to reside with that lewd trollop Hortense Bernard you will be so preoccupied with trying to cast the demon out of her that you will have no time for your humble servant Desiree.”
“You must learn patience and discipline, my child,” he murmured. “There is not time for me to allay your grief completely, but I will grant you a momentary respite from your sufferings. Do you then hoist your skirt and petticoat and keep them at your waist, while you continue kissing me in farewell.”