“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.
“Alas, my child, you have put me out of sorts by leading me along a false route for so long. But we shall correct that in another session. For the nonce, my daughter, I will remove that veil for you; have confidence in me because what I now do is done as your confessor. There – oh, just as I perceived it through the thin white cotton! A veritable oasis of bliss, soft and pink and delicate, and how fragrant!” There followed the sound of a long moist kiss, and then a frantic squeaclass="underline" “Aiii! Oh, mon Pere, mon Pere, I have never felt anything like that before!”
“Well, my daughter,” Father Lawrence quipped, “your Guillaume is young, and with the passing of time there come ever new ideas to the fecund mind who will absorb them. If that is good, I will continue in kind. There… and there again… and now upon the little button itself Guillaume's kisses. And now Guillaume's tongue to round out the good work and to search out the daintiest, most sensitive recesses of that sweet little cunny.”
“Ahhhh!!! Oh, mon Dieu, I am going to go – oh – hurry – Guillaume, hurry, you are making me die. Aaahhh!”
There was a wild and prolonged cry of unutterable rapture as Louisette gave down her virgin dew to the lips and tongue of her Father Confessor. And after a long moment, I heard him say in a satisfied voice, “You have absolved yourself from sin, my daughter, with your candor. Now do you take yourself to the water closet to repair the vestiges of our proxy drama, and I shall seek your sister to learn how she and my lovely ward are conducting themselves.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Father Lawrence did not bother to consult my curiosity, but unknowingly satisfied it because, before leaving the room in which he had just made the deliciously intimate first contact with Louisette, he had donned his cassock for the sake of propriety before calling on his charming ward Marisia and her new friend, and soon-to-be companion at the seminary, Denise.
I therefore went along with him in his pocket, and for your sake, dear reader, I am heartily glad that I did, otherwise I could only offer you conjecture at this stage in his amazingly energetic peregrinations.
He knocked at the door very lightly. Looking back now, I suspect he did this purposely, so that he might enter at once, and then, if – as actually happened – he beheld a scene quite different from what one might expect from two well-bred young girls, he could always excuse himself for having blundered in by asserting that he had indeed knocked at the door for admission.