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Susie Sells Papers! Ch. 02

By: Nigel Debonnaire



"So, you're going to be gone all day today, Susie?" Stephanie Beasley asked. She was an ample woman in a black pair of slacks and yellow sweater; her plump face with red hair, blue eyes and dimpled smile greeted Susanna Cox as she peeked over the cubicle.

"Yes, Steffie, I'm going to be out all day." Susie sat wearing a white silk blouse with a blue skirt. Beautifully made up and coiffed from an early morning trip to the salon, she smiled at her friend of three months. "Ya' know, sometimes it's like that: famine for a while, then feast."

"You'd be the first girl feasting in this job," Steffie smiled. "You're the third person in this job this year, and the other two girls hated it with a passion. No priest wants to see someone from the diocesan paper. The bishop's crazy thinking he can increase circulation the same way regular newspapers do. Your job's impossible; I've said that all along."

Susie looked off to the distance. "Well, maybe I've been blessed."

"Blessed," Steffie snorted. "God knows what it will take. How's the family?"

"Terri's got a cold. The boys are all right."

"And your husband?"

"SSDD."

"Same shit, different day? I can relate Susie, believe me, I can relate." Steffie said, tossing her head.

"At least it's security."

"Yeah, right. No rent, no worries and no action."

Susanna bent over her computer monitor and rechecked her emails. There was another one just this morning, after the two from yesterday setting up appointments for today. She hoped her neighbor didn't see the text and wonder aloud what the reference to apples meant.

Steffie's phone rang and she picked it up. Listening, she put her hand over the handset as she whispered to her departing neighbor. "Good luck today."

"Thanks, Steffie."

Susie could hardly keep her thoughts on her driving as she went through a red light in a bad neighborhood. The first parish on her schedule was a priest she'd never met before, but Fr. Christian Farnsworth assured her that Fr. Cody Miles was a good man she could trust. It had been years since she had an encounter like the one with Chris two days earlier.

The parish was in a bad neighborhood; Fr. Cody must be in the bishop's bad graces if he ended up here. A small, walled parking lot gate barely accommodated Susie's Suburban, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she maneuvered to a parking place. 

"Yes," the door intercom squawked as she pushed the button.

"I'm Susanna Cox, I have an appointment with Father Miles."

A crackle and squeal, then a buzz. "Come in, Ms. Cox. Father is expecting you."

Her senses tingled as she entered. The hallway had a faded glamour: with worn rugs and old wooden furniture, pictures of old saints on the walls, and unused sacramental vessels in small glass cabinets. A large man in a Roman Collar greeted her. "Mrs. Cox? I'm Father Cody Miles. Welcome to St. Brendan's."

"Thank you, Father. I think you know why I'm here."

"Yes." The man was in his late 40's, a hundred pounds overweight, in a dark suit, black shoes and slick black hair parted in the middle. His chubby cheeks and full lips dominated his face, his brown eyes lounged in folds of fat. His hands were shaking as he limply shook hands with her. "Where should we go?"

"Your office should be fine. Tell your secretary you're not to be disturbed."

"She's not here today. Just somebody to answer the phones, she won't leave the front office no matter what. The housekeeper's not in until tomorrow. We'll be undisturbed." He licked his lips and his eyes darted around her.

They entered an office bigger than her boss had, with somewhat shabby furniture. A large leather couch dominated one end of the room. He flopped down, arms spread wide. "What's next?"

"Well, you're going to give me 100 names and I'm going to, to, polish your apple, so to speak."

He licked his lips again. "Yes, yes, yes. Agreed. Are you gonna take your clothes off?"

She fidgeted. "No." Taking a pair of black, elbow length gloves from her purse, she took her plain coat off and laid it on the chair next to the desk. "I will polish your apple. I am in charge here, and if you give me any trouble this will be my last visit. Be a good boy, and you'll have this service twice a week this month. Chris will know if you're rude to me, or bother me for more than you've entitled."

"Oh, I understand, Ms. Cox, I understand. It's been so long, that's all. Pictures on the Internet are one thing, but, but, but. . ."

"Relax, Cody. Do as you're told and you'll get what you want." He licked his lips again. "Will I get to see. . .you?"

"No, not much. It's a bit warm in here, so I'll take off my coat. You can let your imagination run wild about what's under the wrapper."

"Okay." He spread himself out on the couch and waited for her. Delicately, she unzipped his fly and reached inside. It took a little fishing to find what she was looking for; she pulled his tiny, uncircumcised dick from his trousers already damp around the head.

"Here's a little turtle, peeking his head out. Hi, little turtle. You're looking friendly today."

He was breathing heavily with the first touch of her gloved hand. She traced her fingertip around his foreskin, pulling it back and swirling her finger around the head, great drops of liquid escaped. Trembling, he moaned and his eyes rolled back. His three inches were rock hard, and she started pumping him, slowly at first, then speeding up. Five minutes later and he ejaculated with large moans and shaking through his entire body. The white goo landed on his black trousers, covering his left leg from his fly almost all the way to his knee.

None of the fluid landed on her gloves, so she let him settle himself untouched as she stripped them off. It took several moments before he recovered enough to speak. His first glance was sheepish; he looked away and darted glances at her as he built his courage to speak. "Oh, my. It's been so long. That was. . heavenly. How did you learn to do that?"

She put her coat back on, replacing the gloves in her purse. "I was a good girl in high school and college. Wanted to keep my virginity for the right man. Well, I didn't make it that far, but in the meantime, I was good at hand jobs and blow jobs."

He sighed. "I wish I had enough for a blow job. 100 subscriptions is all I can afford."

She smiled and cupped his face. "I'm sorry, Cody. This is the best I can do for you. You want more?"

He shook his head. "All right. Something's better than nothing."

"You need to get your calendar out so we can make another appointment."

Susie felt sorry for Cody as she pulled away from his parish. She could imagine the long years of isolation, through his seminary training, through his first years of priesthood, apart from the human race, on a pedestal he grew afraid to come off of. "Cody's all right, but very inexperienced," Chris told her on the phone the night before. "He wants it, but is very afraid. Keep him under control for now, let him in slowly. After he gets through the first visit, he'll relax and loosen up with you and with others. He needs this."

Fr. Francis Colby was her second call. His parish was on the fringe of the suburbs; she passed several neighborhoods under construction on the way. The church itself had a blocky look; perhaps it was built to be converted to a gymnasium at a future date. The rectory was a half mile away, and the Pastor opened the door wearing a purple bathrobe. "Mrs. Cox? Chris told me you were coming. Please, call me Frank." His house had a new house smell as she entered; Frank was a short, thin man in his 60's, with short grey hair, steely eyes, a fine moustache, and his face was lined around the mouth and on his forehead. 

Shyly, she entered and sat primly on a chair in the entry room. It was indistinguishable from any other house in the area, although a bit worn around the edges

"D'ya want some coffee?" he asked.

"I don't know." She shifted nervously on her seat, perched at the edge of the worn chair.

"Oh, come on. We're both adults, we're here for a purpose, but that doesn't mean we can't be cordial with one another." He ushered her from the entry room to a dining room typical of 80's suburbia. With lithe movements, he started the coffeemaker.

"Are you having any?"

He chuckled and threw his head back. "Hey, I'm not a college student with a date rape drug. Okay, I'll drink some first so you'll know it's all right. I'll even pour two identical cups and let you choose. Good enough?"

She giggled and nodded her head. "A girl can't be too careful."

"Even around priests?"

"Especially around priests."

"Good girl. Good head on your shoulders. I can tell we're going to get along famously. Cream and sugar?"

"No, thanks."

The coffeemaker chimed, and a light went out on the display panel. He poured two cups and offered both to her with a smile. She accepted one and sat at the table; he sat across from her. "How long have you worked for Digger?"

"Digger?"

"Jeff Dinsdale. My brother went to seminary with him, well, St. Justin's High School. Jeff's been at the Chancery for years."

"I've been working there for three months."

"A thankless job trying to see all these priests who have no interest in selling their flocks the diocesan paper. Especially since it used to be free."

"Yes."

He took a sip and looked deep into her eyes. "You are lovely, Susie, do you know that?"

Blushing, she said: "No, I don't. I'm 33 years old, I'm 15 pounds heavier and four kids from my teenage figure. My tits are too small, and my hips are too big; it takes 30 minutes in the morning in from of the mirror to look this good."

Grinning, he regarded her over his cup. "You're a goddess, Susie. I can read things from people, that's what makes me a good priest, a good confessor. You ooze sex from every pore, and you must not be in range of any young studs, or you would be flat on your back as much as you wanted. Your husband is an idiot."

A bird sang outside the window, and he paused to listen to it before continuing. "This is a great chance for you, Susie, not just in keeping your job. You love priests and want to make them happy. You will make many priests happy, Susie. I'm glad I'm one of your first clients."

She took a sip. "Do you want to get started?"

He chuckled. "I'm not in a hurry; are you? Let me savor the anticipation. You're going to jack me off until I shoot my sperm all over your lovely alabaster arms. It's going to be so lovely I can hardly bear the thought." He took a sip. "I have an 8 inch cock, you'll be so glad to see it. If I have an 8 inch cock, will you take your blouse off for me?"

Startled, she said: "What? Eight inches? Oh. Yes. Gosh, I'd do more."

"Maybe another time. If I can find a way to get some more money loose, if somebody makes a contribution to my discretionary fund that isn't tracked by the Chancery or the parish Financial council." Another sip. "I know, you have standards, you have to have standards. It's all right, a hand job will be delightful."

She drank another slug of dark brew and looked at him. His eyes were roving over her, before settling into a long, lustful gaze. "It's been a long time since anybody's looked at me like that."

"Take off your blouse. Put on the gloves."

"Here? Now?"

"Yes. Do it now, and jack me off right here, in broad daylight. Show me your lacy bra, touch me with your silky touch. The other houses around here are empty, waiting to be sold, there'll be no witnesses."

Standing up, Susie smiled at Frank and slowly removed her overcoat, revealing her silk blouse. His eyes traveled up and down the soft curves, and teasingly, she undid one button at a time, waiting for him to drink in each revelation before undoing another, offering him incremental glimpses of her milky white skin. When she undid the last button, she paused, pulling her blouse open slowly, revealing the lacy, white bra that encased her perky tits. His mouth began to salivate as she threw her upper garment aside and took the long black gloves from her purse.

"Let's see what we have in here." He turned away from the table to face her, and opened his robe to reveal his briefs. His genitalia made a large, oversized bulge in the white undergarment, and it released gladly as she pulled the briefs down. His cock was 8 inches long and thin, glistening at the head. "Oooh, that's a sight for sore eyes."

"Glad you like it, Carissima. Do what you're here to do. Like me spray my load all over those lovely tits of yours."

She smiled, and worked her magic. Her fingers were deft, persistent and relentless, and soon the egg white tribute landed on the alabaster white skin of her upper breasts, above their lacy confinement. His eyes rolled back into his head as he ejaculated, and when he recovered his senses, he touched her cheek and smiled. 

"This may be the start of the beautiful friendship."

She smiled back as the sperm lay on her skin, and his limp dick rested in her black, soft embrace.

Susie Sells Papers! Ch. 03



"It's good to see you, Ms. Cox," Fr. Gene Simon said on a rainy Spring morning. "Farnie told me you were. . .a remarkable young woman."

Susanna Cox sat primly across from the other side of a large desk. Fr. Simon was a dignified man in his 70's, average height and build, pastor of a blue collar parish in an older neighborhood. "Please, call me Susie. You're very kind, but I'm just an ordinary girl who likes to see the men who give themselves in service of the Church. I'm here to help."

He ran his fingers through his grey crewcut, and they trembled as they went. "It's not very often that someone comes from the Chancery wanting to help me. Farnie says you're a kind lady, gentle, sensitive, and. . .accommodating."

She smiled at his discomfort, and bent over to rest her elbow on the desktop. Her pink blouse was unbuttoned enough for him to see down as far as her cleavage. Winking at him, she said: "The door's shut, Fr. Simon, and we're alone. You know why I'm here, and I want it as much as you do. You're giving me twice my base rate and indicated you wanted something different. How can I help you?"

"Well, I. . .had a. . . couple of fantasies that might be. . .out of the ordinary."

A broader smile. "Out with it Gene. I'm a naughty girl, and you can't shock me."

Chuckling, he said: "That's my line, 'you can't shock me'. Forty five years in the priesthood, and I've heard almost everything in the confessional. Ever since they started face to face confession, I don't know how many times I've had to hide an erection. . ."

"C'mon Gene. You're wasting my time. If you don't want it after all. . ."

Holding up a hand, he swallowed awkwardly and whispered. "I've got a thing for feet. Delicate feet in nylons, so soft and delicately curved. I would love to touch a woman's feet, rub them, stroke them."

"Sounds nice," she purred, "Tell me more."

"I wonder how they would feel around. . .around. . .around. . .my. . .my penis." The last word was barely audible.

Leaning over closer, she whispered. "You want to feel a woman's feet on your dick?"

Taking a nervous gulp of coffee, he nodded his head. "I can hardly stand the thought of it."

She slipped around behind him and slipped off his suit coat. He wore a long sleeved black cleric underneath it, and she removed the white insert and unbuttoned the top two buttons. Deft fingers kneaded tense shoulder muscles, and light perfume found receptive nostrils. "You want to see my feet?" she murmured into his ear almost touching her mouth. Another quivering nod. "All right. You will. There's a nice bulge down under your belt. Do you have a banana in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?"

He chuckled and relaxed a little. Lightly, she kissed his ear and got a tremble in return. A little more work and she moved around to sit on his desk in front of him, slipping off her heels, and hiking the hem of her red print dress. 

A look of sheer bliss came over his face as he took one in his hand. Susanna's feet were long and lean, pedicured and painted red, with graceful toes. Stroking it, he worshiped her foot from one end of the arch to the other. She closed her eyes and felt her panties get damp from his attention; she would need something herself if he went on like this too much longer. Lifting her foot, he sucked her big toe, nylon covering and all, into his mouth where his tongue played around her nail.

A shudder and she knew it was time to stop him and make his pleasure the focus. Pulling her foot away, she went down to unbuckle his belt, unzip his fly and gently remove his phallus. It was growing quickly, reaching medium length, over huge hairy testicles. Her hand began it tracery, and she gave the head a quick lick for lubrication before sitting down to caress it between her feet.

Balancing was difficult at first, but she got into a rhythm quickly, and he was so aroused that it took less that three minutes before he covered her nylons with white custard. She milked him dry, massaging him with the soles of her feet, and smiled at him. After he regained his senses, he ran his fingers through his hair again, and smiled shyly. "Was that what you wanted?"

He nodded his head. "I never imagined it would be so wonderful"

She laid a hand on his cheek. "You're welcome. Happy to help."

"You'll be back soon?"

"Monday, next week."

"Thank you."

A quick kiss on the forehead, and she departed without a word.

Accessing her email from her cell phone, she found a note from her mentor, Fr. Christian Farnsworth, "Farnie" as Fr. Simon called him. Deciphering the message, it read:

Next, Monseigneur James Worth, St. Sebastian parish. Watch yourself, call me if he gives you any trouble.

The parish was in a upper middle class suburb, less than ten years old, and an award winner for architecture. She was ushered into the Pastor's study after waiting 20 minutes, and after closing the door, he sat her down. "Ms. Cox, I know what your fee scale is, the one Fr. Farnsworth set up, and I'm telling you that it doesn't apply to me. I'm a personal friend of the Bishop and in line to be Vicar General, so if you don't do what I tell you, I'll make sure you never work for the Catholic Church again." 

He grasped her wrist and flipped her over his knee. Pulling up her skirt, he began spanking her buttocks methodically, as she squirmed and tried to break free. "Yes, yes, keep it up. I like it when you try to get free. I'm stronger than you are; I'll outlast you." Through her blue panties, her buttocks started turning light red until he tired of the game and flung her to the floor.

Standing up, he unbuckled his pants and lowered his boxers, revealing a huge penis and gigantic balls. "Now I expect you to kiss this, and keep kissing it until I tell you."

She lay there for a moment, hand to her face and she contemplated her next move. He was very handsome, tall and fit, a man in his early 50's, with black hair that suggested coloration. It wasn't fair, he was only paying for the basic service and should only get a silk gloved handjob, but an idea entered her head. Keeping her purse in reach, she knelt at his feet and mildly began to play with his flaccid member. 

Relaxing, he let his hand stray to the side of her head as she took the huge tip of his cock in her mouth. "Oh, yes, you're good, you're good you little slut. Suck my huge cock, slut, suck it, suck it."

She worked her magic until she sensed his arousal had fully occupied his attention.

"Erk." His eyes flew open and began watering as his balls were caught in a vise. "What. . .what . .what?" He croaked in an usually squeaky voice.

Susanna stared up at him, holding his balls in an iron grip as she spat out his cock. Her other hand got out her cell phone and hit a speed dial number. As the number rang, she gave his scrotum a twist, drawing another high squeak. "Tables have turned, haven't they, Monseigneur? I think we need to renegotiate our arrangement. Hello, Chris? Yes, I'm with Jim, and he's making some assumptions that are not consistent with the agreement. Would you like to speak with him?" Handing the phone up to him, she said: "It's for you."

Sheepishly he took the cell phone. "Chris? How's it going?" Another twist brought a grimace to his face. "Oh, we're getting along famously, she's such a treasure. What? Oh, she's got my nuts in a wringer, my God she's strong! What did I do? Well. . .well. . .well, I thought she'd want to play, she's so beautiful with such pert tits and a nice ass and I. . .I. . .I, yes, I spanked her, all right, Chris? Yes, I went too far. What? Did I ask for more than a hand job?" Another twist. "Ow, ow, ow, yes I did. Well, she's got such a lovely mouth. What? What? No Chris, we go back too far, you can't do that to me. Oh. I didn't know you knew about that. Oh. Oh. No, of course I trust you, absolutely. Agreed, agreed. Sure, I'll tell her the truth, I can hardly help it when she's squeezing the shit out of my nutsack. Agreed, I'll treat her like a queen. What? You know what I mean, dammit. Don't get prissy with me. All right. Yes, I'll be nice, I promise. All right. Bye."

He handed the cell phone back. "I apologize for treating you so rudely," he said calmly. "I was mistaken to try to take advantage of you, especially at our first session. I will give you 300 names and you have the option to continue our arrangement or not. I promise I will always treat you like a lady and all due respect. I will not try to intimidate you again."

A sigh as the pressure was released. "All right, Jim," she said. "But remember, this could happen again if you're not careful."

"Yes, yes, yes, I can see that. You're not like anybody I've ever met before. What can I do to make amends. It's been years since I've been laid and I'm desperate. All this high office does is make it harder to. . .to. . .to. . ."

"I understand. Well, I can think of a couple of things. Since my butt is nice and tingly, I could use a happy ending myself. It's been years, as you said. You're now on the next level, so if you're really nice to me and give me a good, screaming orgasm, I'll give you that blow job. . . the next time I come by."

"And the terms of this deal?"

"Take it or leave it. If you don't get down on your knees and lick my cunt till I orgasm, I'll leave and never come again, and Chris will no longer be your friend. If you do, I'll give you another chance, and maybe I'll enjoy sucking that big, bad, beautiful cock of yours dry someday soon."

His eyes darted around as his penis shriveled to normal size. "All right. But get on the couch; I've got a bad back, and I need to be off my knees."

Slipping off her blue panties and settling on a leather couch, she put her arms on the soft leather. "I'm ready, but you have to prove yourself before you get to play with my tits."

He crawled over and up beside her, slipping under her skirt. Rubbing his palms over her shaven pubic mound, he stroked her inner thighs softly, licking the inside of her kneecaps with flickers of electricity. She relaxed, and murmured: "Good start, Monseigneur. Good behavior will be rewarded."

Delicately, he probed her folds and she parted her legs slightly to accommodate him. The dew was beginning to collect, and he ran his index finger around her inner lips. She shuddered. Bringing his face close, he flicked his electric tongue on her emerging clitoris, bringing a cascade of dampness. 

"I'll give you a week to stop that," she said. After several minutes of bliss, she continued: "Okay, Monseigneur, I will give you permission to insert a finger or two. Take your time, ah, ah, yes, keep it slow, keep it gentle. Oooh, where did you learn to do that? Another finger, please. See what cooperation gets you? Nice, nice. My oh my, what are you doing to me? No, I'll let you know how long you need to do this. Don't be a clock watcher. Did I give permission for a fourth finger?"

His head popped out and his probing stopped. "No, ma'am. Sorry ma'am. I promise I won't do it again."

Smiling, she husked: "Oh, don't promise that. Didn't say I didn't like it. Four fingers feels nice. Little more tongue on the clit and pump that a while. Oh, yes. No, don't stop that."

After a few moments, she pulled up his head and held him by the ears. "You know, after four children, I'm feeling like I can take a little more. Make a fist for me." He did and her eyes grew wide. "Well, we'll have to take it easy, and you'll have to take my lead as far as speed goes; this isn't a porn video from the Internet. Slip in that fist up to your wrist slowly. Oh, oh, oh, that's what I call full. Yes, now very slow, very gentle pumping. Just to the wrist. Nice, nice, nice."

Squeezing her breast through the fabric of her blouse and bra, her eyes flittered shut. He kept up his measured pace, and she reached out to stroke his hair with her free hand, putting her thumb in his mouth to be sucked. Rotating her hips, she encouraged him to speed up the pace slightly, and again as her orgasm built.

Her breathing accelerated, her lips quivered, and soon she crossed the boundary of sublime sensation. Shuddering, her body writhed in pleasure for several moments before she pushed his hand away and rode the downslope of her bliss.  Touching his face and letting him lick her nectar from her fingers, she smiled. "Apology accepted."

Driving back to the office, she called Chris again. ". . .Oh, he was a lamb after that, made a beautiful apology. No, I won't tell you what it was. I know what you're thinking and you're wrong. No, I gave him something. Let him keep my panties to jack off in. Seemed happy with that. What? Oh, how did I change his opinion so quickly? I just remembered something my mother told me. 'When you've got them by the balls, their hearts and minds will follow.'"



Susie Sells Papers! Ch. 04



Susanna Cox was sitting at her computer when her friend Stephanie Beasley came over. "Sorry, I didn't get back to you last night, Susie. Had a night out with an old friend from High School."

Susie swivelled around and looked at her friend. "There's something different about you today, Steffie."

"Different?" A worried look crossed her face. There were a couple of unusual red marks passing from the back of her neck that ran down beneath her green sweater. Her hands trembled and she almost spilled her coffee.

"Yes, it's like we're in the Sixties again."

"Huh?"

"You're not wearing a bra today." Steffie looked down quickly and then back at her friend. Her breasts were hanging much lower than usual, and Susie noticed red marks around her wrists as well.

"Well, sometimes I like the freedom," she whispered. "The straps cut into my shoulders, and I don't wear it on the weekends. Just too painful today, so I hoped nobody'd notice if I. . .went without."

"You should get them reduced if they're hard on your back."

"No, I couldn't do that." She took a gulp from her lukewarm coffee, and it steadied her a little. "What can I help you with?"

Susie beckoned her heavy friend forward, and said: "I need a cover story for tonight."

"Cover story?"

"Yes. I've got to head out to a parish for a night meeting, but the boss doesn't want me going out to work after dark."

Steffie looked around. "But Jeff'd be happy you were meeting pastors anytime of day or night."

"I meant the boss at home. The kids are all farmed out, but himself will get snarky if I'm out and he doesn't know where I am. If I told him I was at your house helping cut out a dress, you'd back me up, wouldn't you?"

"Sure, Susie, anytime. How late will you be out?"

"Till 10 at least."

"Okay. I'll have a line for him if he calls."

"Thanks."

Susie's first call was in the afternoon, with Fr. Harold Beteman close to the chancery. He answered the door himself, an average, thin man in his early sixties with white hair and a deep tan. After introducing her to her secretary, he took her on a tour of his collectibles from his days as a Missionary in Bolivia. After 35 years in South America, he returned to the States and went through a special re-entry program before. Susie winced as he brought out a picture book as they sat on the couch in his living room. 

"When's he going to get down to the sex?" she thought. "I've heard of men who hire prostitutes just to talk to them, but I can get stories like this from my uncle Mike."

When he opened the book up, the pictures of his village in Bolivia had a simple theme. There was one girl in a faded picture: average in every way in an embroidered low-cut, white blouse, elegant skirt and bare feet, whose dimpled smile electrified the viewer. It was a progression of her life, holidays and Sunday, at play and a work, raising three children to adulthood and dandling grandchildren from her knee.

"This woman was special to you?" Tears came to the corners of the old man's eyes. "Your housekeeper."

"Yes, she was." His voice held a strong Latin accent, even though he was raised in the U.S.

There was a pause as Susie scrutinized the pictures. "She was more than your housekeeper, wasn't she?" He daubed his face with a handkerchief, nodding. "Tell me about her."

"I met her just after I got there. Bolivia's priests usually take a consort, someone to live with them, and well, she ended up with me. It was a dream: hard work almost every day of the week, but it was simple and rewarded and blessed. When the bishop came, she went away with the kids until he left. Almost 35 years together, and then, she got sick. It was a gall bladder problem, something that gets fixed easily here, but we lived a long way from a hospital and by the time we got her there, it was too late. I tried to stay on, my daughter stayed with me and my people were so kind. But I just couldn't stay in the wonderful place without her."

The grandfather clock ticked in the corner. After a pause, he continued: "I came back home, and tried to live here like a regular priest. It's so different, and I've struggled with life here, even though I'm from here. I miss my family, my kids and my grandkids. When I retire, I'm going back."

Susie laid her hand on his. "You should. Being around family will help."

"In the meantime, I miss the simplest things. I learned to use the Internet, but, but, seeing a real pair of breasts, feeling soft hands on my balls. . ."

"I understand," Susie said. Slowly she stood before him, and undid each button of her blue blouse. Sliding it to the floor, she reached around and unhooked her bra, pulling the straps over her shoulders, and replacing the cups with her arm momentarily . She reached out with her hand and invited him to pull her arm away, revealing perfect, teardrop breasts. 

His fingers traced her orbs reverently, skimming close to the areolae and following every curve until he caressed them with his palms. Her breath grew faster as he worshiped her flesh. It was a full fifteen minutes before he tentatively leaned forward to nurse her pink nipples.  

Just when she thought she would burst, she pushed him away and lowered herself to kneel before him. She unbuttoned his fly, one at a time, and released his serpent, fondling his spongy balls. Her tongue took it time; he was ready to erupt as his cock appeared, and she wanted him to savor the experience. A measured pace intensified his arousal, and she orgasmed as he filled her hungry mouth.

The dinner hour was barely contained bedlam and all the little ships sailed for their ports of call by 7:00PM. Susie pretended to call Steffie in earshot of the master of the house to announce her departure and ask if she wanted anything. He was indifferent to her departure from the house, ensconced in his easy chair in front of a baseball game.

Fr. Marcus Frazier lived in a posh part of the city. A gate protected his property from ordinary people; the only heir of a rich family, he pastored a large parish closeby, and lived at his ancestral home with the Bishop's permission. A handsome man with blond hair, blue eyes and sculpted body, he greeted her at the door with a martini, and led her to his study. They chatted easily in the study, smoking Havana cigars. Marcus had traveled the world, and delighted her with stories of his journeys. The martinis were followed by another round, and they took them poolside when they finished their cigars. The full moon crested the horizon and was sailing high into the night.

After a while, he touched her hand and said: "You're most welcome here, Ms. Cox, I have been longing to meet you for a week."

"Really?"

"Really. Word of your, good works, has been passing quietly around, and I'm looking forward to our time together. Tonight is special."

"How so?"

"Tonight, there is a total eclipse of the moon. Magic will be in the air this midsummer's evening, even though we're not at the equinox yet. Perhaps warlocks are mating with witches tonight."

"Sounds like fun."

They sat and sipped their drinks, watching the stars go by. The weather was still warm and the occasional breeze played silky on their skin. He gulped the last of his drink, and shed his clerics, standing naked to show off his perfect physique before diving into the pool. It was illuminated by underwater lights, and he moved through the water with a dolphin's grace. She stood up and shed her clothes, following him into the delicious water. 

They swam and played like children, naked in the moonlight, splashing and dunking each other. He dove under the surface, and tickled her navel with his tongue; playfully, she tried to hold his head under until he couldn't hold his breath any longer. She ducked under and nipped as his testicles; he had committed enough names to do anything he liked with her, and she was anxious as she broke the surface, giving him an urgent, open mouthed kiss that almost took his breath away.

It was time to leave the pool as a shadow crept over the face of the moon. She left with him close behind, he gathered her into his arms and carried her over to the couch where he laid her down on her back. Laying beside her, he kissed from her mouth down to her right nipple, while his right hand parted her legs and played with her inner lips and clitoris.

She ran her hands over his six pack and pecs, slick with water, before finding his manhood standing firm in appreciation. Stroking and playing with it, she soon rolled over and descended to embrace it with her soft lips, running her tongue up and down the shaft, before taking the entire length into her velvet mouth.

He groaned and stroked her hair, his balls building, before he pushed her head away and laid her down, legs spread wide to accept him. They thrust and pounded together as the moonlight faded; he flipped her around and entered from behind, and she trust back against him in sequence with his. Another change, and he was on his back while she rode him, bringing his hands up to fondle her breasts. 

As her orgasm built, she saw the orange moon, deep in earthshine. Her vagina quivered, and then threw her over the edge, shuddering as he emptied himself with eyes wide open and buttocks clenched.

They held each other in the afterglow, and he nuzzled her chin. "You live up to your reputation, Ms. Cox."

"Thank you. We aim to please."

"Any chance I can get you to spend the night?"

She bit her lip. "I don't think so. I'm expected back around 10:00."

"Where are you supposed to be tonight?"

"With my friend Steffie, cutting out a dress."

He thought for several minutes, and said: "So, you have a glass of wine with her after you're done, and then another. You get carried away, Steffie's a lot of fun, and you're too drunk to drive home. Maybe she's getting sick and you have to stay with her. Think that line will play?"

"Maybe."

"I can do three way calling. If Steffie's game, you can both be on the line at once, and take turns talking."

Susie's brow wrinkled in thought. "Yes, that might work. Let me call her first and get our stories straight; she'll talk first and then me. And then. . ."

His lips sought hers and they blended in an open mouthed kiss.



Susie Sells Papers! Ch. 05



Susanna Cox drove through rush hour traffic on the way to her first call of the day. It was clear and cold, a few dreamy clouds sailing above, and the other drivers were preoccupied with their task as seen through their windows.  She wondered what her day would be like, what adventures waited for her. She was dressed professionally in a grew pantsuit in deference to her first call, Fr. Tom Albrectssen, pastor of a large suburban parish, and later she would be seeing Fr. Tom Zebedee at a parish by the coast.

Fr. Christian Farnsworth called her cell phone. "Hi Susie, how's traffic?"

"SSDD. What's my schedule like today?"

"Well, I'm surprised Tom's going for this. He has a reputation for being a workaholic, and even at clergy meetings and retreats, he's in constant contact with his office. He's plopped for level 2.5, so be good to him."

"I'm good to all my lovely boys."

"Yeah, me too. This afternoon's Tom is a different sort, very quiet and reflective. He's at level 4, so have fun. Tomorrow's meetings are level 1's, so don't wear out your arm today."

"Very funny. I'm already getting tennis elbow."

"Tennis elbow? Hand jobs are nothing like tennis."

"Kidding. How's your day?"

"Classroom visits, which will be fun; if they misbehave, I leave. Then long meetings on getting the parking lot repaved. I may need to take my Scotch intravenously this evening."

"Well, don't have too much fun. Bye."

"Bye."

Her exit arrived; Susie was able to pull away from the horde and wend her way through the subdivisions to find the parish. With a little trouble, she found it, a concrete monstrosity from the '80s. If the pastor gave her a loving tour, she would have to force a smile. Pulling into the parking lot, she rang the doorbell and was buzzed through to the office.

"Oh, yes, you're his third appointment today. 9:00. He's with the principal and vice principal right now; I'll let you know what it's done. Have a seat."

She crossed her legs and leafed through the devotional pamphlets and missionary magazines; the same as she found every place she went. The minutes crawled by, and her mouth salivated a little. Anticipating the feel of a soft, fragrant cock in her mouth always made her tingle. 9:15 passed, followed by 9:30 and 9:45 before a buzz from the inner sanctum signaled her admission.

Fr. Tom Albrechtssen was a tall man in his early 50's, with a clean shaven head, a small stomach pauch, and ears that stuck out dramatically from his head. His hands were soft and his fingers long, and well groomed. He led her down a long hallway to a huge office at the end of the hallway. It was rather ordinary: double sized with rather functional furniture and chairs, a table with six seats for small meetings, and a huge, antique desk in front of a bookcase full of dusty tomes.

"Now, Ms. Cox, if you would get under the desk." He spoke with a calm, business like tone, as if he were asking for more information from a financial report.

"What?"

He shook his head. "I believe the arrangement is for oral sex ending in orgasm. It is something I have had great difficulty finding in my life, but have always dreamed of receiving. You are agreeable, so please, Ms. Cox, I await your availability. If you would please get under the desk."

"I thought. . .you might like. . .some. . .foreplay."

He shook his head again. "I have been ready since the arrangement was made; it took all my self control not to masturbate for the past three days. The idea of your soft and inviting mouth around my member is something that even now leaves me breathless."

"You don't. . .want to see. . my tits or anything."

He looked at the ceiling as he thought through her offer. Nodding, he said: "That would be rather nice. Yes, open your blouse and show me your mammalian protuberances."

He stood there, arms crossed, waiting. Slowly and with trembling fingers, she undid her buttons from the bottom up, pulling her lace blouse aside to reveal her lacy bra. He nodded, and she pulled it up, letting her perk breasts come into view. 

"Your breasts are lovely, Ms. Cox. The sight of them is most welcome. Perfectly proportioned, delicately curved, the nipples an excellent shade of pink, and most inviting. Perhaps I shall consider upgrading my commitment. In the meantime, we need to proceed to business. If you would get under the desk, please?"

Susie went around behind the desk, and saw the underside was cavernous. She easily sat back on her heels without bumping her head as she pulled herself inside. He sat down, unbuckled his belt, and unzipped his fly. 

Shaking her head, she reached in to find him, and discovered a shriveled little worm laying between his legs. Kissing his thighs, the worm began to stir, and she pulled back the turtleneck to reveal a glistening little bud. Smiling to herself, she said: "Little turtle, little turtle you don't have to be so slow. Little turtle, little turtle, do you need a little blow?" 

She sent a stream of cool air over the ember, and it began to glow. Her deft fingers adjusted it and encouraged it, and it responded, swelling up twice its size. Looking up at him through the desk, she decided not to delay her task, and began stroking the turtleneck and licking the underside.

Above, she heard him hit the intercom. "Ms. Short, when is my next appointment?"

A voice crackled: "10:30, Father. Mrs. Cole from the Catholic Daughters, about the mass and luncheon tomorrow."

"Right. Let me know when she's here."

It was strange: she heard the shuffle of papers and the scratching of his pen; it was a different world above than where she was. She swirled her tongue around the foreskin, and got a spurt of appreciation. Her hand fondled his tiny, hairless grapes. From time to time, she heard a page being turned and more scratching; she couldn't imagine how he could focus on something else while getting a blow job. 

If that's the way he wanted to be, she'd show him. Taking a deep breath, she attacked his cock, giving it the most stimulation she could, cupping his buttocks though his trousers, swirling her tongue around his turtle like a Midwest tornado, until she heard his breathing get deeper. A few frantic strokes, and she returned to her tornadic stimulation.

His pen clattered from his hand to the table, and he began to shake all over. She kept up her work, wetting her index finger and slipping it in his asshole. Finding his prostate, she worked it and within 30 seconds he erupted, filling her mouth with three days abstinence. She struggled to swallow it all, dribbling a stream from the side of her mouth.

He gasped and his head thrust back. The last drops escaped the turtle's mouth, and he started moaning loudly as his libido settled back to its usual level.

"That was delightful, Ms. Cox. I look forward to your visit on Thursday."

With that, she was dismissed.

The next appointment was for lunch, so Susie went directly to her next appointment on the coast. The view from St. Benedict's and the rectory was astounding. Fr. Tom Zebedee was an aging hippie; he greeted her with a clerical shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of bare feet stuck into sandals. "Come in, Ms. Cox. Would you care for a drink?"

"Yes, I would. Anything you have would be fine."

"We have some spring water and pure grain alcohol."

"Are you General Ripper from 'Dr. Strangelove'?"

"No, but wasn't that a wonderful movie? I also have fixings for a Bloody Mary."

"Sounds great. Make it a double."

"Oh. Something to cleanse the palate?"

"You have no idea."

Lunch was served in a dining room overlooking the beach; cheese omelets with a fabulous salad and a fresh Baguette and cream cheese. Fr. Zebedee was witty and bright, making Susie laugh repeatedly. The sun shone on the surging waters, and Susie wondered what her host had in mind for her. After the morning's staid labors, she was ready for something different.

At last, Tom took the dishes to the kitchen and got down to business. "What I'd like to do, Susie, is take some pictures of you–naked."

"But I don't look good naked."

"You're real. I don't care if you've got imperfections; you have a beauty that comes from within."

"What guarantee do I have that you won't post these pictures on the Internet?"

Tom looked aside, then back at her. "I told Chris what I wanted to do, and he agreed as long as you would say yes. He said he'd keep an eye out if I broke my promise, and if I did, he'd cut my nuts off."

She laughed. He smiled: "Well, maybe not that far, but I won't give you a release to sign. These pics are only for my masturbation later."

"That's all right, then. If you'll beat your meat to the sight of my body for the rest of your life, I'll let you take my pictures." Another round of laughter.

After a few shots before a roaring fire, he brought out a bottle of canola oil. "Would you consider oiling up?"

"How much?"

"All of you."

"Okay."

Susie glistened in the light, posing on a pedestal he brought out. They giggled regularly as more Bloody Marys were concocted and consumed; Tom took off his clothes except his sandals, and after an hour of raucous fun, he called a halt to the photoshoot. 

"Is that everything?" Susie asked, giggling.

"No," he replied, breaking into hysterical laughter. "I'd like to put my cock in all your holes."

Another round of laughter. "How soon?" she asked.

"How about. . .now?"

"Sure." Susie came down from the pedestal and engulfed his cock eagerly. It was average length twice as thick as usual. She was worried about the culmination of their endeavor, but after he pumped her until she orgasmed, he worked a large quantity of canola oil into her rectum, and filled her nether region with his proud pole until he sent a large pool of semen deep into her colon.



Susie Sells Papers! Ch. 06



Susanna Cox maneuvered her Suburban through the lines to the dropoff; the kids were self-absorbed on the brink of a new school day. The Monday morning was the usual chaos of reluctant rising, forced breakfast and bathroom conflicts, presided in monosyllables by a figure at the head of the table from the far side of the morning paper. The day dawned wet and grisly; the drive was purgatorial through the traffic.

Despite the morose start, she shuddered as she contemplated the day. After retooling her "parish relations" for the Diocesan Paper with Fr. Chris Farnsworth's help, the past month had been a delight, visiting different pastors and delighting them in varied ways. Now she went to work so damp between her legs, she carried two sets of panties in her purse, leaving souvenirs for her favorites. There were a few problems at the beginning, especially with a certain Monseigneur who felt entitled to change the terms on his own, but she and Chris kept things under control.

Last week, the Chancery named her employee of the month. Her boss was amazed at how circulation increased in the past month, and her skin tingled as she had her picture taken with the Bishop for the paper. "Gosh, Susie," her cubicle partner Steffie said: "this month you're a new woman. You're hardly here, you're gone so much." Steffie looked at her friend up and down, in her sharp green suit with white lace blouse. "I'm jealous; you look wonderful. It's like you're getting laid regularly."

Today, she was seeing two old friends, Mike and Jim. Members of a religious community, Susie met them at a retreat three years earlier and gone with them bar hopping that evening. The evening was a delight: they became fast friends, and occasionally did early evening cocktails together. "If I'd only known. . ." she kept muttering to herself. Maybe they needed a housekeeper.

She was excited by more than the prospect of a reunion. They committed enough names that she would have to submit to anything they wanted to do to her.

"Good morning, Susie, great to see you again," Mike said as he answered the back door. Mike was taller than average, a collegiate basketball player who entered just after graduation. He wore his habit with bare legs and feet in sandals. "I hope you didn't have any trouble finding us."

"No not at all. This is a wonderful place." The parish was built in the 1920's: a classic Gothic church with a huge monastic Rectory attached, full of nooks and crannies. "All you need is few gargoyles."

"Very funny. C'mon in."

Mike led her to a large dining room, appointed with antique furniture and a chandelier over the table. The table was laid for three, a huge bowl of fresh fruit dominated the center and some croissants rested in a basket next to a lazy Susan of butter, cream cheese and raspberry jam. Mike left and returned momentarily with a pitcher half full of fresh squeezed orange juice, which he topped up with a bottle of champagne. Jeff entered; he was also taller than average and rail thin under his habit, and he carried a large souffle.

"Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you." They sat, said the usual Grace, and began eating. Everything was delicious, and Susie had to pace herself to be ready for what the boys had in mind for later. Looking around, she remarked. "I see you guys are really living the simple, monastic lifestyle."

Jeff chuckled. "There's an old joke about that."

"Now, now, it's about the Jesuits," Mike interjected, "We're not Jesuits."

"Still a good story," Jeff snorted

Susie leaned forward, interested. "Tell it, tell it."

"All right," Jeff began. "There was a young man making a discernment visit to the Jesuits. They took him through their University, with all the most up-to-date facilities. Then to the residence, where they had an elegant 7 course meal. Afterward, they repaired to the library and had brandy and cigars. At last they asked him: 'Well, what do you think? Interested in becoming a Jesuit?'

"Yeah, sure,' he replied, 'if this is how you guys live poverty, I'd love to see what you do with chastity and obedience.'"

Laughing, they finished the meal and took the remains to the kitchen for clean up and storage. Mike took Susie on a tour of the Church, a lovely place with outstanding stained glass windows, and the Rectory, with many more rooms than needed. "Some of these rooms were created by knocking walls down: once they were rows and rows of tiny sleeping rooms for lots of monks;, the walls were knocked down to make reasonably sized rooms."

"Fascinating."

At last they ended up in the basement level. Next to a laundry and mechanical room, was a room with a large hot tub in the center. Jeff was lounging in the water already, mimosa in hand. "We thought you'd like a soak this morning."

"I didn't bring my swimsuit," she teased.

"Oh, come on, Susie," Mike sniggered. "You don't want us to sandwich you later with your clothes on, do you?"

She gasped, and then shook her head. "But my body's not that good."

"We'll be the judges of that," Jeff said. "I've been dying to see you unwrapped since I met you."

"You're among friends," Mike said, "you have nothing to worry about. We're going to have a good time today. Take your clothes off and stay awhile."

His winning smiled persuaded her and she timidly let herself out of her clothes. She covered her breasts and crotch as she walked over and gingerly let herself slide down in the churning liquid, and kept her arm over her chest as she accepted a mimosa.

Mike smiled broadly. "You're gorgeous, Susie."

"No, I'm not. I'm saving my money to get some implants. Then I can do stuff like earn beads in New Orleans."

"Your tits are perfect," Jeff objected. 

"My cubicle mate Steffie has huge tits."

"So what?" Mike said. "Like the Ray Stevens song: 'Everything is beautiful/in it's own way.' Your tits are delightful, well proportioned, the curves suit for your body."

"My fat body with my fat ass."

"Your ass is just fine. Who likes a skinny butt?" 

"I sure don't," Jeff added, "I like a nice bubble butt with dimples."

"You're very kind, guys, but I don't believe you."

"I think we'll have to convince her," Mike said, looking at Jeff.

"I think so, too." They approached her together and hovered by her chest. "Lift your tits out of the water, Susie."

She smiled and eased herself up. Two pairs of lips approached, and soon they were creating worlds of pleasure around her twin brown buttons. Her body relaxed and her eyes closed. Occasionally, they took a sip from their drinks, and the energy from the champagne made her nipples tingle exquisitely. 

Her vagina began contracting, her eyes rolled back, and her body began shaking wildly in the water. The boys kept up their licking and sucking until she pushed them away, her breath coming in great whoops until she recovered.

The boys sat back, and she took a long drink. "I can't believe it. I came, hard."

"We can't believe it, either," Jeff said. "But we're glad. I always thought you were a girl who desperately needed to get laid." Mike nodded in agreement.

"What now? What can I do for you?"

"Well, I think you need to repay the favor," Mike started, "and we have a nice queen sized bed with fresh sheets in the next room for the pièce de resistance. What do you think?"

"I think you boys need to sit side by side on the lip, and I'll do my best." They did as ordered, and she came to them. Mike's package was slightly larger than average while Jeff had a long, thin member. Susie started by alternating between them, licking and nipping at one while stroking the other with her hand. Mike shuddered and moaned as she took in the head of his cock; it filled her mouth completely, and she hummed on it. Relaxing her throat muscles, she slid the length of Jeff's thin cock all the way to the root between her welcoming lips. 

After a while, Jeff said, "If this goes on too long, we'll end this too soon. Now for the final act."

They carried her to the next room, laying her gently on the bed. Getting in on either side, they began kissing and fondling each other. Jeff's hand quested between her buttocks and Mike's between her legs. Their erections prodded her urgently, and she grew damp at the thought of what was on the horizon. She reached and started stroking both men, looking back and forth at the wonder that awaited her.

Then, Mike lay on his back and lifted up her to mount him. She grasped him and guided him in as she settled, wincing and breathing hard as the intruder penetrated her deeply. Rocking slightly, she settled as she waited for Jeff to make his contribution. 

Jeff began fingering her brown pucker, lubricating it with a bottle next to the bed. At first, she thought he was working a second finger in, but it had no bone. He was running his tongue around the rim, prodding inward and driving her crazy. More lubrication and the finger returned, joined by a second. Her pucker relaxed bit by bit, and then it was time.

A stiff intruder positioned itself at her moistened rectum. She gasped as it slid in at a teasing rate, until it reached full insertion. Susie was lost in sensations; she had never experience a double penetration before, and then men settled into a rhythm where they alternated, one would thrust in while the other thrust out. In and out, in and out, everything drained away from her consciousness except the sensations below her waist.

Mike began playing with her nipples while Jeff slapped her butt; they writhed together and made the bed springs squeak in protest to their abuse. All of them increased their pace, until Mike howled and sent a huge quantity of semen deep into Susie's womb. Carefully, they maneuvered him out from underneath while Jeff stayed buried in her colon, then she knelt on all fours and thrust back as he pounded his way to a huge orgasm deep into her bowels. 

Susie fell heavily on the bed on her stomach, purring with delight as she fingered her clitoris. Jeff inserted two fingers, pumping until she also climaxed a second time that day.

"Well, thanks Susie," Mike said calmly.

"That was indescribable," Jeff whispered in her ear.

"You guys are lucky," Susie moaned, "You'll probably walk again in the next week."

They held her from both sides, a large sweaty mass, and Mike whispered, "We'll stay as long as you need us here, then we can take a nice, long, hot shower before you go." 

"Shit, that's right," she wined, "I'll have to go." 



Susie Sells Papers! Ch. 07



Fr. Christian Farnsworth's voice sounded in Susanna Cox's ear first thing on a bleary Tuesday morning at the office. "Hey, Susie, how's it going?"

"Fine, Chris. What can I do for you?"

"Got a favor to ask. You busy today?"

Susie flipped open her appointment book. The past two weeks had been rather full, and she was just coming off a three day weekend. There were two visits coming up later in the week, but the next week was going to be a marathon. She had to get some office work done, but there was a lot of space in her calendar at the moment. Fr. Chris was her go between, so making room for him made sense. "No, Chris, not really. What do you have in mind?"

"A friend of mine's in town, just gave my parish a superb Mission. Mike Simpson and I go back to seminary days; I think you'll like him."

"And how far do you want me to go in making his dreams come true?"

"I'll give you a hundred more names for this one time. So I want you to fuck him any way he wants it, but I get to watch."

Susie smiled to herself. "Sounds like fun. Anything special you want me to bring?"

An hour later, Susie was in the Rec Room of his Rectory. She wore a simple smock over her bare body, her feet in sandals, with a pot of water gently heating some oil and a massage table set up in front of her. A text message alerted Chris all was ready, and she heard voices progress down the hallway.

Fr. Mike Simpson and Fr. Chris entered clad only in large white towels wrapped around their waists, glasses of Scotch in their hands and a huge cigar was between the host's lips. They were a study in contrasts: Mike's body was sculpted, lean with strong musculature, while Chris definitely had passed his prime, with flabby arms and a small, sagging paunch. "Mike, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine, Susie Cox."

"A pleasure, Susie," Mike said, extending a strong hand. "You are a delight for tired eyes. Are you going to work some of the tension from my back?"

Chris wiggled his eyebrows behind Mike's back at Susie, and she smiled. "Of course, Father. Anything to help you relax."

"Sounds nice."  Facing away from his colleague, he shrugged off the towel and lay face down on the table, his powerful legs captivating her eyes.

She took a bottle from the pot, tested the temperature, then spread it on his broad shoulders, working it into his taunt muscles. He purred as she kneaded and prodded his flesh, and soon his back glistened in the flourescent light, all the exertion of the past few days gone from them. Sighing, she took more and worked it into his nicely rounded buttocks; looking at Chris, she saw him puffing frantically on his cigar, following her hands greedily with his eyes.

"Now, Chris," Mike said, breaking the silence. "I know what you're thinking and don't get your hopes up. There was that one night at the Eucharistic Congress when we were in seminary, where we got drunk and did unspeakable things all night, but it's not going to happen again. The only person who's going to touch me here is this lovely young woman who is utterly fantastic."

He spread his arms in denial. "Of course, Mike. We've been friends for years and have I ever pushed anything on you since then?"

"All right. But we need to talk about other things, and you need to look at my eyes. How's Jimmy Worth and Slick Simon doing these days?" They proceeded to talk about mutual acquaintances and what they were doing in their parishes, or in some cases, how the families of departed priests were doing. Susie spent a long time working on her powerful legs, focusing on his thighs as she could get at them, before working on his feet.

"Father," she said at last, "If you would turn over, I'll work on your front a while."

"Sure," he said, turning over. His six pack was well defined, his pectoral and arm muscles strong, and the leviathan between his legs was stunning even at rest. "Look at my eyes, Chris, look at my eyes."

"Of course, Mike. Of course. How's your mother doing?"

Their conversation wandered up and down their family trees as she worked her way from the soles of his feet to his temples. As she passed the leviathan's lair, it stirred gently as she worked his inner thighs, so she made a note to return after she'd done the rest of his front. He was able to continue his conversation as she worked the tension out of his chest and arms, and his voice began to quaver when she returned to his inner thighs, her hands creeping close and closer to his scrotum.

"Chris, this isn't fair," he said, as her hand coaxed him to an erection.

"What do you mean, Mike?"

"Some projection going on here, I think."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"This lovely woman is getting me aroused, and I surely don't want her to stop, but you're getting the benefit of a little voyeurism here."

Chris shrugged his shoulders. "I just want you to be comfortable, Mike. Susie can be trusted. Do you want me to go?"

Mike thought for a minute. "Well, you set this up, so I might as well give you a show. You can stay. Just stay in your corner and try not to drool too much."

"Okay, Mike. I'm sure Susie's getting more pleasure handling your magic wand than I am looking at it."

Susie deftly manipulated his staff, teasing the head, caressing the balls, running her dripping fingers up and down his shaft before stroking him. Going slowly at first, then building steam until his member turned bright red, she fondled and manipulated him as his breathing grew more erratic. Just when she thought he was going to shoot his load, she bent over to take him in her mouth, licking and sucking until he sent streams of fiery liquid she swallowed greedily.

Mike lay on the table, staring upward. "My, that was fantastic. Chris, you are the ultimate host."

"Thanks, Mike. Glad you enjoyed it."

"Wow. Susie, I am beyond words."

She wiped her mouth and smiled. "Anything to make you happy, Father. My pleasure."

"Is there anything I can do in reciprocation?"

"Oh, no. That's not necessary."

Chris stirred in the corner. "Perhaps Susie would like a back rub. Susie, lie down on the table and let Mike work you over."

Mike got up and Susie reluctantly took his place, face up on the table. "Okay, I'll work your front first."

Getting the oil bottle, he began with her shoulder and worked his way down her arms. He used quite a lot of oil on her breasts, massaging them and teasing the nipples to full hardness. She purred as she worked her stomach, then down her shaved mound between her legs. A finger slipped between her lower lips, teasing, taunting, before he moved down her thighs and legs to her feet. "Turn over, Susie and I'll do your back."

She did as she was told and he worked up the back of her calves. As he arrived at her ass, she parted her legs, inviting him in, but he passed it by, moving to the small of her back. His hands on her shoulder blades and higher was heaven, and he whispered in her ear: "Turnabouts is fair play."

He returned to her nicely rounded ass, and worked down between her legs until he found her swollen lips. One finger entered, followed by another and another, as she writhed and moaned. 

Just when she was ascending the mountain, Chris broke in: "I see the Phoenix was arisen."

"So what?"

"Perhaps you should put that where I can't see it."

"I should put the towel back on?" He asked, puzzled.

Chris laughed. "No, dummy, I was thinking of someplace else."

"I'm not putting it where you want me to."

He laughed again. "I think you have a closer option. Surely Susie is ready for you."

Mike climbed up on the table, and touched her vagina with the head of his penis. She widened her legs and pushed back against him, inviting him in. With a thrust, he plunged in.

The bucked and thrust together for several moments. He slapped her butt several times with loud cracks, then probed with his thumb in her crevasse. She gasped as his thumb entered her asshole, and her thundering orgasm made her writhe and buck underneath him.

After she calmed down, he pulled out and stroked himself. "Well, thanks, Susie. . ."

She turned and said: "You're not done yet."

"What?"

"I think Susie wants you to put it somewhere else. Perhaps where your thumb was."

"Oh." He put some oil on his hand and worked a slick finger into her back passage. She laid back and raised her hips up to give him better access. Chris brought over a cylindrical pillow and put it under her pelvis; she raised up to let it slide in and settled down onto it. Mike poured more oil between her cheeks and worked two fingers into her asshole to loosen it. 

Satisfied, he placed the head of his cock against her rectum and she wiggled her butt back against him. With a pop, the head went in and gradually the leviathan disappeared its full length. They pumped together as his second orgasm built.

"More, more," she moaned.

"I'm all the way in," Mike said, "What do you want?"

"Finger my clit."

"I can't reach it."

"I can," Chris said. He came over to stand beside them, cigar still burning like a censer between his lips.

"All right, Chris," Mike said, "but don't touch me. I don't want to feel your hand on my balls or my leg."

Chris crossed himself, and reached under her pelvis to insert a finger in her dripping slit. "More, more," she moaned.

Mike thrust faster and Chris added a finger, play with her clitoris with his thumb. Her breath grew ragged and she begged for more; Chris added a third and fourth finger. Another demand for more; Chris looked at Mike and balled his hand into a fist, gently pushing it in. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," she screamed, relishing the full, double penetration for two minutes before Mike shouted and erupted into her bowels.

He pulled out and Chris moved over to keep fisting Susie. Before long, she orgasmed again with loud screams and almost uncontrollable writhing. She held his hand inside her until she recovered before she pushed it out.

Chris went back to his chair and Mike put his towel back on. Susie moved to her side, and smiled. "Fancy a cigar?" Mike asked. 

She nodded and Chris gave Mike his to transfer to her. As she puffed, she and Mike watched while Chris lovingly licked her juices from his hand. "This is new for you," Mike observed.

"Not at all," Chris said, "Perhaps there's a stray sperm or two here for me."



Susie Sells Papers! Ch. 08



Fr. Christian Farnsworth met Susanna Cox at a small coffee house near the Chancery on a grey, wet day. He snagged a double latte at the counter before beckoning her to follow him out to the door and into his Camry.

"Something different today, Susie. Something for both of us, but I'll need your cooperation."

"You've got it, Chris. Why do you need my cooperation?"

He started the car and slid into traffic, heading for an older part of town. "It's a group of priests that want your services, but don't want to meet you in person. They're part of a prayer group that meets Tuesday mornings, and today they want their prayers answered a bit more literally than usual."

"So, how're we going to pull this off?"

"We're going to an old school next to St. Athanasius parish. In the basement, they're an old nun's bathroom with a hole in the wall at the right place. . ."

Susie gave him a huge, dimpled smile: "And you want to use it as a glory hole?"

"Yes."

"What a wonderful idea. Why are you here?"

"Well," he said, pulling onto a side street that led to a twin spired church. "I want to watch, but I don't want they to know I'm watching."

She cocked her eyebrows at him. "Maybe you'd like a couple for yourself?"

"No, no, no," he said, "I don't like any of these guys; you're better off not meeting them in person, but it would turn me on to watch you give them blow jobs."

Passing around the church, he found a gate open next to the run down school next door. The car turned to hide behind a solid stone wall, remnant of sunnier days between the World Wars. He led her through a door he unlocked and down a staircase to a damp, dingy cubicle 10 feet square, with an antique throne and a cock sized hole in the wall. "Make no indication I'm here," he murmured in her ear, "and use this. It will save you some work." He handed her a small spray dispenser of breath freshener. "This will make their dicks tingle while you suck them, and make them finish sooner."

"How do you know, Chris?"

He winked, "Personal experience. I'll let them know we're here." Whipping out his cell phone, he sent a short text message and flipped it shut. 

Susie took off her coat and put on her elbow length black silk gloves. She was wearing a low cut green dress, with a gold crucifix around her neck. Pearl earrings graced her lobes, and a small chain on her left wrist.

Five minutes and a cock peeked through the wall. It was average sized and circumsized, mostly erect and barely damp. She cradled it in her hands, rubbing it slowly and reverently for a minute before flicking out her tongue to tease the head. The touch brought a groan from the other side of the wall. A spritz, and she engulfed the head in her mouth, licking and sucking all around it. He thrust his pelvis against the hole, and his balls appeared beneath his member. A gloved hand teased those curves and twirled the salt and pepper pubic hair that covered them. He groaned again, and she went into overdrive, trying to bring him off quickly. It worked, and the sperm leaked from the corner of her mouth as she stroked and sucked him dry.

The cock retracted completely and was replaced by a long, thin one; freckled and mottled with age spots. A few gloved stroked brought it to full length; she looked at it in wonder before another dose of freshener and some soft tongue work. She was teasing the underside when it released a spray of white liquid; it fell on the cracked ceramic floor a small blizzard on the faded green pattern.

The third was shorter, with huge testicles. It took longer to arouse its attention, longer to swell completely, but Susie was patient and persistent, spending a lot of time fondling his quail eggs before turning her attention to the pleasure pole and coaxing its warm tribute.

Then a dick appeared of a dark hue, a chocolate long john full of promise of a creamy middle. She heard an intake of breath from Chris as it sprung to full size, and teased him by working on this penis with her eyes locked on her companion in the corner. His tongue crept out of his mouth, and his hand went to his crotch, as she took inch after inch of the monster in her hungry maw, gasping as she hit bottom, wiry pubic hair raking her cheeks, and his call of passion reverberated through the ancient hallways. His ejaculation seemed to last forever. 

The last perker appeared, slightly below average yet very thick. Susie worked the head over almost exclusively, the semen starting before she could take him in, leaving white droplets on her cheek. A series of groans were heard from the other side of the wall, and with a pop, he pulled away.

"Let me kiss you, Susie," Fr. Chris said.

"What."

"Share with me," His tongue snaked out to lick the residue from her face, and probed her mouth seeking whatever was left from five men's tribute still lingering there. She kissed him back after the surprise wore off, shoveling the sperm into his mouth with the tongue and broke away reluctantly.

"How was it?" He asked.

"Wonderful," she replied. "This is going to be fun."

They walked back up the steps to the car, seeing no one as they pulled out of the yard and back onto main streets. Returning to the shop, he bought her a sandwich and they chatted as they ate their lunch. She returned to the office at 12:30, to read her e-mail before going to her afternoon meeting.

Steffie Beasley was working at her desk through lunch. Large hoops dangled from her ears, and pink lipstick adorned her lips as she typed, mouthing the text as she copied it. Her oversized body was poured into a grey sweater and black pants. A pizza box held a couple of slices from an extra large pizza, a non-diet soft drink sat next to her right hand, close to several candid and posed shots of her many nephews and nieces. Turning her chair as her friend arrived, she said: "Do you want some coffee, Susie?"

"No thanks. I"m fine."

Steffie looked her friend up and down. "You look fine. You look like you've had a wonderful morning and a delicious lunch. Where did you go?"

"Someplace out of the way. Great selection, I'm stuffed." Susie sat in her cubicle and turned on her computer, checking her e-mail and dealing with some internal memos.

"Must have been all you can eat." Steffie said as she returned to her typing.

The afternoon took Susie to a modest parish in an older, middle class neighborhood. St. Vincent's pastor was Fr. Terrance Sidlow, a burly man of less than average height and receeding hairline that greeted her within a minute of his secretary's summons.

"It's so good to have you here, Ms. Cox. I'm looking forward to our meeting."

"Thank you, Father. Where would you like to go?"

Looking over his shoulder. "How droll! My office, of course. This way." He led her to his office, where they sat on opposite side of his huge desk. 

Leaning over, he whispered conspiratorially: "Where shall we do this?"

She leaned over and whispered back: "Where to you think?"

"We can't do it here; my secretary may come in."

"Can't you tell her to hold your calls?"

"Yes."

"Well."

"I don't want to take any chances."

"How about your bedroom?"

"My housekeeper may suspect something, especially after finding soddy sheets."

She smiled at him wryly. "That's a big assumption. I take it you don't want her suspecting anything."

"No."

"How about the guest room?"

"Same problem."

"What if you do the sheets yourself?"

He thought. "She might hear the washer going and wonder what's happening."

"What if you do it late at night?"

"How do you wash a sheet?" A quizzical look crossed his face.

She blew out a frustrated breath. He was paying to screw her and after the morning she was more than ready for any sized cock in her cunt. "We could try a hotel room."

"No, no, no, somebody might see."

"I guess the closet's out of the question," she said flippantly.

His eyes gleamed. "Perfect! Come on!" He grabbed her wrist, and pulled her after him, opening the closet door and pulling her through.

The closet stank faintly of mothballs, and several old coats were hanging there, along with several rabbies. Closing the door brought about total darkness, and his hands were clawing her everywhere once they were alone, while he breathed asthmatically in her ear.

"Slow down, tiger," she whispered, "Let me take the lead." She unbuttoned her blouse, found his belt and unbuttoned fly. His cock was average size, and would suit what she had in mind. Guiding his hands to her breasts, she reached down and began to massage his cock into the open. Hiking up her dress, she was grateful that she did not wear panties that day. Her vagina was slick, and she used the head of his cock to play with her clitoris, making her ready for entry. He erected quickly, and when they were both ready, she sat on his member, pulling up her left leg.

He mouthed her neck and started kneading her bottom as they started bucking. From time to time he fell out, but she guided him back in and focused her attention on her own sensations. Wired from a morning of group fellatio, it took her little time to reach her plateau, which she achieved just before his lack of self control sent a jet of fluid inside her. Throwing her legs around his butt, she milked him slowly in slow pulses and kept him from fading completely until her need was satisfied.

They burst from the closet stumbling, and he hurried to compose himself, buttoning up and wiping his brow with handkerchief. She leaned against a couch, breathing heavily, her dress pulled down to reveal her right breast.

When he noticed her exposure, he pointed and started humming frantically to get her to conceal it. She did slowly with a caustic look, making a mental note to be better prepared the next time she visited this unschooled boy.



Susie Sells Papers! Ch. 09



"Craig's a game player," Fr. Christian Farnsworth said, "He'll probably want to play a game with you before he gets down to business."

"That's all right by me, Chris" Susanna Cox answered as she navigated traffic on the way to her first appointment. "The last three guys weren't your list, and I had a hard time trying to convince them to increase their subscriptions to the diocesan paper through words alone."

"Well, Craig will have something weird in store for you, Susie. I hope you're up for anything; he's popped for whatever he wants to do."

She shuddered delicately. "I'm ready. I'm ready for anything."

St. Isadore was rural parish in the beginning, but the growth of the suburbs had changed it dramatically in the '80's. Fr. Craig Biaggio was in his early 40s, around Susie's age, and he greeted her warmly after a short time in his waiting room. "Glad to see you, Ms. Cox. I'm looking forward to our time together. Can I interest you in a drink?"

"It's a little early for me."

"Oh, I have a pitcher of Bloody Mary's made up in the game room. It's mostly tomato juice."

"Well, I'll have one, maybe."

They went into the basement: a clean, well organized room dominated by a ping pong table, with a bar in the corner. He poured her a drink from a chilled pitcher and place a stalk of celery with a shot of hot sauce before fixing an eye opener for himself. "I keep the place up for my brother priests to play cards, have a drink and maybe play a little ping pong."

"Bet you had some astounding poker games down here."

"You bet. In fact, I'd like to make a little bet with you this morning."

"Yes?" She said, sipping her drink.

"We play a little game of ping pong. If you win, you can do anything you like with me, including walking away with the names in your pocket."

"And if I lose?"

"You have to do anything I want."

"Done. It's been years since I've played ping pong."

They finished their drinks in short order, and he handed her a paddle. They took their places at opposite ends of the table, and Susie noticed a huge mirror behind Fr. Craig, which was very distracting. They pinged back and forth a few times to get warmed up, but when they started keeping score, it was no contest. He skunked her without breaking a sweat.

Coming around the table facing the mirror, he bent her over the table, and lifted her floral skirt. "Now for your forfeit. My, what a nice ass you have."

"Thank you. What are you going to do with me?"

"You'll see." He started rubbing her asscheeks in large circles, tickling her crack and probing her thighs. Pulling her panties down, he brought his hand down on her white flesh with a loud smack.

"Ow!" she yelped. "Is this the penalty for losing at ping pong?"

"Yes," he said calmly. "If you dispute this, your penalty may be more severe." Another meeting of his palm with her backside brought another yelp. "This may call for more extreme measures."

Hanging on the wall nearby was a blue flyswatter. She followed him in the mirror as he fetched it; her eyes on fire in anticipation. "I'm a bad girl," she said, "I need to be punished."

Smiling at her in the mirror, he began to swat her lily white skin with the swatter, leaving a light pink pattern on her butt as he worked her over. She moaned and yelped as he worked, growing damp between her legs as the tingle spread. "I'm a baaad girl, baaad. I need to be punished."

Tiring of the plastic weapon, he took up his ping pong paddle. She saw it as he held it high over her butt, now a battlefield of light red marks. His left hand started stroking her flesh, making her moan and squirm, before bringing the dimpled rubber down. A ringing smack and light rubbing took her to a new level of sensation; over and over the paddle descended, and her eyes drank in every slap as it landed. A bulge appeared in Craig's pants, and she longed to reach back, liberate and take care of his stimulated cock.

Her butt was approaching its limit of punishment, and she saw him unzip his fly, bringing out a small penis that he started stroking. She started to rise, but he pushed her down on the table, smacking her backside in punctuation, as he stroked his growing manhood millimeters above her bright red skin. Her efforts to reach back were met with more smacks, taking her breath away.

At last, he screamed and shot a load of white spunk on her bright red cheeks; it felt hot on her tormented skin. Stream after stream of jism flew out as he moaned in satisfaction. After the well ran dry, he started massaging the moisture into her butt, sending a symphony of tingling all over her ass that ran through her body.

Sensing her frustration, he brought the paddle between her legs, and inserted the handle into the slick swamp between her legs from behind. He stroked her blood red butt while working the thick wooden handle in her snatch, surprising her with the unrelenting smooth lacquered thickness, as she felt her climax approach. It seemed a lifetime before she was ready to orgasm, but when she did, she bucked and quivered on the hard green table, shooting streams of her own vaginal liquid across the surface.

It was difficult to drive as she crossed town to the Chancery to get her messages and check in at her office. Arriving just before lunch, she sorted her mail standing before sitting gingerly to check her e-mail. Her cubicle neighbor, Stephanie Beasley, poked her head over the top of her wall. Her face was a broad grin, although she sported a black eye. "How's it goin', Susie?"

"Fine, Steffie. Gosh, how did'ya get that shiner?"

Blushing, she whispered: "An idiot went too far last night. Thought he loved me, but he finally proved otherwise, and so I dumped him."

"Good for you."

"You free for lunch?"

Susie looked at her diary and shook her head. "Tell me more about the idiot before I have to run."

Steffie came around to sit beside her friend. She was dressed down that day, wearing a sweatshirt of the university her son attended, and a pair of faded jeans. Susie could tell that her friend wasn't wearing a bra again; Steffie's pendulous boobs swung free, and she flinched as she sat on the wooden stool next to her friend. "Damn idiot went too far. First, we have some fun, then he brings in this skinny bitch with no tits wearing nothing but a corset to beat on me. He has the gall to fuck her right in my presence, and that convinced me he didn't have my best interests in mind."

"He what?"

"Brought in this shaved skank to abuse me. Thought I would get turned on; didn't understand why I would be mad. Complained all the way out the door when I threw his ass out on the street. 'Let that skank take care of you and pay your bills, you lazy prick', I shouted after him. This afternoon, I get the restraining order."

"Good for you, Steffie," Susie said from her correspondence. "You stand your ground. You're worth it."

"I know it. D'ya want me to get you a sammich?"

"No, thanks, Steffie. My next appointment's going to feed me."

"What luck. Well, 'bye."

"'Bye."

Susie next appointment was the parish farthest away from the Chancery: St. Elizabeth of Hungary. A glance at the directory showed the parish was being run by an administrator, with a retired priest celebrating one mass per weekend. It took an hour to drive to the place, a tasteful recent building unique in the diocese. The parish office sent her to a house four blocks away.

Sr. Mary Joseph Winters greeted her at the door. She wore a pink blouse with grey slacks, a noble woman with fine lines and beautifully made hair. The older woman ushered her into her living room. "Susanna, you are as lovely as Chris described, even lovelier. The business look suits you: the blue jacket and skirt with light blue blouse flatters you incredibly. I love what you've done with your hair. Is it your real color?"

Susie blushed. "No, not really."

"Well done, dear, well done. It's a pleasure to see you. Have a seat."

Sitting down carefully as she thought the older woman wasn't looking, Susie looked around the modern, modestly appointed house. Sister brought a tray with two cups of delicious coffee, several tasty finger sandwiches, and a selection of elegantly decorated, delicate cookies. "Please, help yourself, Susanna. I have plenty."

"Thank you. It's different coming to a parish run by a, a, a woman."

"It's different being a woman running a Catholic parish. The bishop has been a jewel, Gene has always given me a lot of respect; but the priests in the deanery give me the cold shoulder. Only Gary has been kind to me."

"Fr. Gary's the sacramental minister?"

"Yes. He's happy just to do sacraments and leave the hard part to me."

"Oh. Why do you want to see me?"

The older woman smiled broadly. "I know about you, and I want what you have to offer. I raised four children before I went to the convent, and had to hide my sexuality for all my life. Thought religious life would burn it out of me, but no dice. I hoped you would. . .would. . ."

Susie crossed the room and took the older woman's face in her hands. "What's your real name?"

"Shelley."

"Let's go to the bedroom, Shelley."

They went upstairs, hand in hand, and spent fifteen minutes kissing softly while gradually disrobing one another. Shelley's body was firm and strong for a woman in her 60's, and Susie admired her full figure. "I feel dirty," Susie said when they broke their osculation, "How about shower?"

"Sounds wonderful."

The soft, warm water flowed over them, and they turned to soap one another. When Shelley caught sight of Susie's back, she gasped: "You've had a tough morning, my dear. Such a red butt. I hope it was fun."

"Yes, it was wonderful, but it left me unsatisfied."

"How so?"

"He didn't fuck me."

"I think I can help with that." Turning her partner around, Shelley knelt down and started kissing Susie clean shaven pelvis with butterfly lips, probing with her tongue as her partner parted her legs. Susie could hardly believe the older woman's tenderness and persistence as she made love to the vulva before her. Shelley sucked Susie's erect clitoris into her mouth and ran her tongue around it, bringing the upright woman to series of deep moans. On and on, relentlessly the tongue quested, and soon Susie had a screaming orgasm as the warm water flowed over her body.

After Susie recovered, she started kissing the older woman from the cleft of her neck downward. Lovingly, she circled the older woman's drooping saucer nipples, running around and around while the water flowed. Shelley gasped and held her head, pushing it downward. A tongue circled a navel, and then went downward to find the excited nub. Fingers probed upward, filling an experienced love canal, one finger drifting back to search out a tender star and coax it to relaxation. 

Time paused as Susie savored Shelley's tender love organ, thrusting her fingers deep inside with the other index finger buried behind. Shelley's breath grew shorter and shorter until she ululated fast and high as her orgasm crested, lasting several minutes until the she slid down the shower wall to sit on the floor, exhausted. 



Susie Sells Papers! Ch. 10



"Chris, this is getting to be too much. I'm flooded with orders, and my time is all taken up. This is getting out of hand."

"Susie, I know, I know, but you're only one woman."

"What if I get someone to help me?"

A long pause on the other end of the line. "I'm not sure. It has to be someone we can trust absolutely. It also has to be someone as horny and wild as you are. Know anybody like that?"

"Maybe. You know Stephanie Beasley?"

"Steffie? Sure, she's a parishioner of mine. Little chunky, but not bad. Got a big pair of tits; if I were straight, I'd love to get my hands on those."

"Chris, when those twins are released, they fall halfway to the floor."

"Oh, oh, okay, I get it, her nipples are at her waist when her bra's off. Hey, wait, how do you know?"

"Never mind. Anyway, had lunch with her yesterday. Her husband hasn't touched her in years, and she once told me she has a fantasy about priests."

"Really? Let me think about it. I know her, can't tell you how, I know she can be trusted, and if she's interested. . . Meanwhile, you're off to Our Lady of Mercy."

"The biggest parish in the diocese?"

"Yes. The number of names they came up with is staggering."

"I have a feeling I'll be staggering when the day is over."

A chuckle came from the other end of the line. "I'm sure you'll offer it up. Later."

She flipped her cell phone shut and crumbled the other half of her lunch sandwich into crumbs for the birds. Her stops that day were so far from the Chancery she had to eat lunch alone in a park. "It's funny," she said to the birds as they fed, "three months ago I was bored and hating my job, wondering if I'd ever get enough done to keep my boss happy. Now he's in heaven and so am I. I was ready to reapply for my virginity, you know, if you haven't had sex in 7 years you get it back, but now I get so much action. . ."

There was the huge Nigerian priest who filled her like no man had before. The priest who made her put on a habit, tie him to his desk chair and spank his privates with a flyswatter for being a naughty boy. Mike and Jim, who she kept on her schedule after their number was up because they made her feel so good. They could be trusted not to brag about their exalted status, so it was safe to keep visiting them. Elbow length black gloves became a icon in the network, one priest gave thanks for them at a priest's only retreat. Most of her visits used the black gloves, and she felt her manipulative technique was at the expert level: she could make those lonely old peckers sing like a diva.

There were four priests living at Our Lady of Mercy, a pastor, an associate, a prison chaplain and a retired priest in a wheelchair. Chris had been mysterious about what they were asking for, telling her only that she'd love it and love them. Usually he told her exactly what the men wanted so she could prepare. Her shiver was part in expectation and part in fear as she drove to the upper class neighborhood the parish resided in. The buildings were from the 1970's, creatively ugly, and the secretary was a thin woman in her 50's with her grey hair pulled back in a bun, her face seemed pulled back as well.

Susanna sat nervously, sipping coffee and leaving through ancient magazines as she waited. The associate came into the office and glanced at her as he chatted with the secretary, but didn't come out to introduce himself, leaving within a few seconds. 

After twenty minutes, Fr. John Blankenship emerged, taking her hand as she stood to greet him. "Good afternoon, Ms. Cox. A pleasure to meet you at last; you are an underground legend. I can see why you are so appreciated."

"Thank you, Father."

"We have your interview set up regarding the subscriptions, so if you'll follow me?" Turning to his secretary, he said: "Marcia, no calls this afternoon, no salesmen and tell the Principal our meeting this afternoon is canceled. I'm going to discuss an extended plan of advertising with Ms. Cox while she's here, so we can maximize our presence in the media."

"Yes, Father." He led her through a narrow hallway and up Formica steps to the second floor, to a guest room with a simple bed in the middle of the room. Some leather restraints were visible on the clean sheet, and Susanna started to shake.

"Don't be afraid, Ms. Cox, you'll come to no harm today. I promise you that we will do nothing to hurt you. We will need some code words, like yellow and red, but just to be sure you're not lost in the sensations."

"I'm scared anyway, Father Blankenship. What are you going to do to me?"

"I've talked this over with Fr. Farnsworth in detail and he's given his assent. This is a surprise and treat for you, believe me. If you'll disrobe and lay down on the bed, please."

She looked at him, amazed at his matter-of-fact request, and he nodded at her. Well, she thought to herself, it's his fantasy. If Chris says it's okay. . .

Taking off her clothes, she stood naked in front of him, as he looked at her impassively. She lay on the bed and he gently took her hands and feet, binding them in the restraints. Lastly, he took a blindfold off the dresser and tied it around her eyes. "We'll be back shortly, Ms. Cox. Just relax."

It's easy for you to say, you're not tied up on a bed blindfolded, she thought. The sounds of him leaving and walking down the hallway faded in the distance and she wondered how long she would be there waiting. Her ears strained to hear every sound in the place, but the building had lots of strange noises and she could tell nothing. A door slammed, incoherent voices down the hallway, and a rolling sound told her something was happening. Time lost its bearings.

The door opened and she felt several people entering the room. A squeak and roll told her one person was in a wheelchair, that was pushed to the foot of her bed. "Ms. Cox, you may not speak unless you're asked a direct question by me. Any other noises you're free to make as the spirit moves you. We're going to put something on your skin, and you will tell me if it's too hot. Ready?"

"Yes." Something touched her skin on the inside of her right arm, pleasantly warm and gooey. "It's fine, it's even nice. What it is?"

"You'll find out. All right, boys, go for it."

Several hands touched her naked skin, some lightly, some more firmly, at different speeds. One teased her upper thighs, one her right nipple, one lightly traced her left armpit, one shaking hand caressed her feet. For several heavenly moments, skin touched skin, tingling nerve endings and making her shake.

"Are you all right, Ms. Cox?"

"Hmmm. What's next?"

Warm thickness was being spread on her skin from four places. They worked out, covering her as much as they could with the stuff. She giggled as they covered her breasts, and gasped as it was rubbed on her inner thighs and on her pussy lips. Her mind raced wondering what it could be.

It was done and she was mostly covered from the neck down. "What we've done, Ms. Cox is covered you in warm peanut butter. I saw a video on the Internet of a lady in a bikini putting it on her body and letting dogs lick off her. We thought it might be fun to imitate the dogs, and thought the bikini was unnecessary. Does the proposition interest you?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not at this point."

"This feels wonderful, and I love the idea of you licking it off my skin. How many of there are you?"

The blindfold came off and she saw three priests in collars standing next to her, with a fourth in a wheelchair at the bottom. "This is a dream come true," she whispered.

They descended to her body, their tongues lapping the sweetness. The old man in the wheelchair started liking her right foot, running up and down between her toes, tickling the arch. His touch was butterfly soft. The young associate was kneeling between her legs, starting at the inside of her knees and slowly working his way upward. The other men started with the insides of her arms.

Her eyes closed; she could have still had the blindfold on for all it mattered. She drifted in softly undulating waves, savoring the sensations as they washed over her. One tongue found the notch at the base of her neck, making her shiver. Another found her armpit and nuzzled there for a lifetime. One foot was sucked completely clean and the other was now the target of soft lips.

Halfway through, the man between her legs paused and reached over for something. She heard a click and a buzz; a vibrator was gradually inserted into her vagina, raising the level of stimulation a couple of levels. Soon, the three younger men were in prime territory, one on each breast and the third near her inner lips. The last ascent was rapid, and she rode the steep waves of ecstasy one after the other while the four tongues continued their work.

One on her left stopped, and reached between his legs. He started jerking himself vigorously, and she strained to get closer. Within seconds he deposited his cream on her left breast in thick streams. She crested another wave and whispered: "Next time on my face. Please, on my face." The one on her right went to his fly and hardly fumbled himself out before he shot a long stream of sperm on her right breast. "On my face, on my face, on my face."

At last the young man between her legs crawled upward and sat on her chest. He jerked himself quickly and moaned; he shot his load as she crested another peak, her eyes shut and her face beaming as the egg white covered her smile. Her tongue reached out to taste and he briefly put the head of his cock between her lips for her to clean.

The vibrator was removed, as were the restraints. She sat up and beckoned to the retired priest. "Come here, Father," she beckoned and he wheeled himself beside the bed. Reaching over and unzipping his fly, she sucked his ancient wand into her soft mouth.

"I haven't cum for years," his feeble voice warbled. After five minutes, however, he hooted and filled her mouth.

The men left the room wordlessly, and Susie noticed the bathroom where she showered and put her face back together. It was almost rush hour when she left and made her way back to the Chancery.

Steffie was sitting bored at her desk when Susie got there. "Hi, Susie, how was your day?"

"It was nice."

"You always have a nice day. I wish my job was as good as yours."

"What do you mean, Steffie?"

"Well, I'm supposed to be here full time, taking ads and handling clients. All our advertisers are the same good old boys, and I could do this in two hours per week. You're supposed to be part time, and you're busy 9-5 every day."

"Would you be interested in helping me?"

Steffie sat up. "Really?"

"Really. Let's go have a drink and I'll tell you about it."

As they went out the door, Susie said to Steffie: "All you need to do is get a pair of elbow length black gloves. . ."