11 comments/ 51834 views/ 13 favorites Pastors' Ladies By: OzmanA All characters depicted in this story are eighteen years of age or older. ***** Some years back, during my career in the armed forces, I marched into an air force officers' mess where I was billeted for the duration of a course I was to attend on that base. The duty officer, a young section officer who was also assistant mess secretary, looked at my travel documents and orders before looking up sharply. "Captain Robertson," she said with the emphasis on my rank and a sort of startled, guilty look on her face. "You probably don't remember me, Louise Crowther, I'm engaged to Richard Lewis." She flashed a small diamond in a ring on her left hand, then handed me my room key and instructions on how to get there as I smiled pleasantly. I remembered Louise well, having spent my Sunday school and later, church service hours and several social evenings admiring her looks. She'd developed a truly magnificent bosom and a bottom to murder for as well as a beautiful face below short, black hair which made her look appealingly elfin despite the puppy-fat. Although she'd aged four or five years since I'd seen her last it only added to her physical attractiveness as an adult who'd slimmed down and grown taller. And I'd always desired ladies of more substantial proportions. Richard Lewis, her fiance, was a bit odd, from my recollection. He'd always preferred to hang out with younger kids despite being at least five years older than I, taking groups of us on Sunday afternoon drives after Christian Endeavour meetings over the period of years in which I went along to church. There was no suggestion that he'd ever sought a physical relationship with any of them, even touched, but it did seem rather odd to me. I'd heard that he was presently engaged in a theological course in preparation for an ordination and graduation ceremony later that year. My mother sent me to the Sunday school as punishment one Mothers' Day the whole family neglected to observe. I thought it was the most ordinary way a kid could be made to spend a sunny autumn morning when the river was still clear and fish were biting well, but they had a hook. If one could endure a weekly session of fundamentalist, protestant bible-thumping, one could play in the only basketball competition in our city for kids. It got me in for several years; until I discovered the game they play in heaven. I had great difficulty with the Christian myth, particularly in how Jesus died so that I might somehow find a better life, that concept going right over my head. On querying the matter I was told that far greater minds than mine were convinced of the truth of the idea so I should just remain silent and listen instead of asking foolish questions. Funnily enough, that's much like the answers I've received from clergymen since, except that I'm now regarded as a smart-arse atheist who won't accept any reasonable answer and just use what's said to try to belittle their faith. Makes you wonder... The other matter that made me wonder was the way that about four families in the congregation thought the church was their private chapel. You had to be one of those to even be nominated as a candidate for the ruling council, to be listened to on any matter or to have a say in ministerial hiring and firing. An adult, long-term engaged couple in the congregation were refused permission to bring their wedding day forward by three months on grounds of morality, she found herself unexpectedly pregnant, despite there being no other weddings on the new date. They were refused marriage in the church on the same grounds, it being suggested that they go somewhere else and find a denomination who were somehow less Christian. A few months later the eighteen year-old daughter of one of the top families found herself with a belly full of arms and legs and, having delayed giving the news to her parents, the need for a quick and early wedding were really too obvious. There was no mention of immorality here and the nuptials were celebrated enthusiastically. I became something of a sceptic when the word went about to warn against jumping to judgemental conclusions or making any comparisons with earlier, or more recent events. The following evening, after a day of lectures, I'd been preparing to go looking for an old friend in the sergeants' mess, but found that she'd gone off on a parachute refresher course and expected back in a fortnight. That was about my departure date. After dinner I read the evening paper and was buying a beer at the bar when Louise joined me. Just what I needed. She got herself a gin and tonic and paid for mine too. "You didn't sign the pledge then?" I observed and she blushed fetchingly. "I didn't think you'd remember stuff like that, sir," she told me. "Anyway I crossed my fingers." "It's Jack," I said quietly. "Remember? In my corps subalterns don't go around saluting captains or calling them 'sir'." "If you insist, Jack," she grinned. "Actually there's something I've got to tell you, it's a bit embarrassing for me." She paused, apparently gathering her thoughts. "I nearly fell over when I looked at your travel docs last night. A few years ago I ran into your brother at a function at home while I was there on leave. He and his pals had had a few drinks and were trying to chat us up when someone 'let it slip' that you were in prison for a long stretch. They all haw-haw-hawed about how funny it was and I must confess to being convinced they weren't lying. I even told somebody else. I'm so sorry I've been so silly Jack," she sniffed, just the hint of a tear in the corner of one eye. "It's okay," I grinned. "I pull a lot of practical jokes on people in the mess or others I don't know, like newspaper editors." "You tell lies?" "It's more a matter of creating a belief by allusion or implication. One should actually be imprecise and not make too much information available. I find that people's imaginations are more destructive than anything you could tell them. Did Jim actually say I was in the slammer?" "I don't remember the actual word, it's been a long time, but they kept saying institutionalised and mentioned a long sentence." "So no actual lies, in that I'm institutionalised in the Army." "Half-truths then?" "No, a truth that one can check is much more useful, added to a falsehood that sounds plausible makes people think and doubt. Get them in two minds and you can suggest all sorts of foolishness. Religions have been doing it for many centuries now." "That's pretty cynical." "It's a cynical old world out there Louise," I told her in my best, world-weary voice. She brought me up to date on the lives of those around the church I hated so much and found it so boring to hear about from her. "I feel so sorry about poor Emma," she told me. "Dying so young, just nineteen, before she'd experienced the really good things in life." Emma was a daughter of one of the previously-mentioned families with what I saw as a proprietorial interest in the church, a nice enough person, but not actually the canonisational material that her parents wanted others to believe after her death from leukaemia. "She didn't miss out," I told Louise. I'd had enough of her prattle, but didn't wish to be rude so thought I'd create a new legend for her to spread about. "How d'you mean?" she asked uncertainly. "I mean Emma had a secret, she'd explored her sexuality before she died." "How do you know?" "I saw her." "Crap," she told me adamantly. I didn't reply to that and there was a long silence as her mind gagged on the unwelcome information. "Where?" she demanded. "In the church, on the stage above the baptisimal font." "Who with?" "Barry and Harry Ezra." The Ezra's lived next door to the church and regularly complained to the local authorities over the noise levels, but religious organisations were exempt from the by-laws on a Sunday. Louise looked doubtful about any kind of intercourse between Emma and the Ezra twins, given the acrimony between their families. "Tell me more?" she challenged me. "Do you remember the great smell?" I asked her. "Oh yes," she giggled. "It was dreadful." "It was me," I told her truthfully. "I happened to notice they'd taken the asbestos off the boxed eaves and knew that I could drop stuff down the air gap between the double brick walls. I filled a bucket with fish and crabs where the netters discard them by the river and climbed the scaffolding at night to insert them, but Emma caught me. Anyhow, she thought it was a big giggle and helped me then. I know she knew then that she was sick because she was very bitter at the church and her family. She thought that she was being punished for her old man's hypocrisy over the weddings saga." Louise looked thoughtfull at my lies. Actually I was caught by my erstwhile school-mate Bazza Ezra who laughed so much that I thought we'd be noticed by most of the neighborhood. The upshot was that Bazza, Harry and I each gathered another bucket of fish the next day and inserted them before the eaves were sealed again. It was a hot week in mid-summer and it seems that the stench was palpable when the ladies arrived early on the Sunday morning to do the flowers. Because the cheap alternative to demolishing an external wall, removing the fish and rebuilding was the use of freshening sprays and fans, they chose to suffer the smell until it eventually abated after a couple of months. Unfortunately Zeke Ezra was taken in for lengthy questioning over the matter, but knowing nothing about it, was easily able to convince the cops of his innocence. When eventually given the facts he was so proud of his sons and always bought me a beer whenever he caught me in the pub for years afterward. "We got more fish the next day and put them in too," I told her. "Then I went into the church with her, she had a key, and she persuaded me to give her an anal nooky." "I don't believe you," she hissed, appalled at what I'd said. "She just wouldn't do that." "Suit yourself," I said. "But she was very bitter and unhappy about such an uncaring god. She thought her old man should have taken the blame and punishment for his own sins. Defiling the church was part of her revenge." "I can't believe it," she said less certainly than before. "And I wasn't alone," I went on. "She did it with the Ezra brothers too, at the same time." "You're pulling my leg, aren't you Jack?" she asked, but with much more confidence that time. "I knew her fairly well." "Do you really know someone?" "I knew her well enough to know you're telling fibs and you'll have more than a little difficulty in getting to heaven." "Okay," I said simply, my tone implying that I really didn't care about what she thought. "All right, tell me this," she challenged me again. "If she did what you said, you'd have seen something about her." "Her birthmark, the one on her bum." Louise looked deflated. "Where?" she demanded of me. "Here," I indicated on my right buttock, at the top, just out from the cleavage. "It's a sort of upside-down, pink heart or strawberry with a big mole in the indentation. She's got quite a few prominent moles." While I still had to do with church I was shown a perver hole in the rear wall of the sports change rooms by Ross Bennett. It was disguised with an old nail and the viewer hidden by the gas heaters and gave one a full view of one of the shower cubicles. We'd been treated to a good, long look at Betty Rodd's plump charms, then Emma's, before escaping just in the nick of time when an elder came out to turn off the gas. Anyway I knew enough to convince Louise who had to accept that I had seen what it was that embarrassed Emma to the point of hiding her birthmark from the world. She'd never seen it, but her mother had described it to Louise when talking about surgical removal of a blemish. It was the clincher and, although she desperately wanted to disbelieve me, had questions about my story. "So why did she want to do Greek sex with you?" "Well, she still wasn't so sure about abandoning her faith entirely, to be judged without her hymen." "Where did the Ezra twins come into the picture?" "They'd seen us going into the church on the second occasion. Emma'd left the doors open so we could bolt if anyone came. She invited them to have a bit and seemed unconcerned about her virginity, having us all penetrate her simultaneously as one in the eye for her old man. Anyway, it was all a bit much for my modesty and I left it to Barry and Harry. Can you imagine what her old man would have felt about his beloved daughter being shagged by whom he saw as Semitic peasants, if he'd known, particularly in the last few months of her life." All this suddenly made sense to Louise, I was convincing, who then pretty well accepted my tall tale as the truth. When she bid me goodnight I didn't think I'd see much of her for the rest of my stay on base. * I stepped out into light drizzle for my early morning run and was joined from nowhere by Louise. "How long a run do you do?" she enquired. "Five K," I replied. "This way," she told me as we crossed the main drag in and out of there. We did half of the perimeter road and came back along the centre road for an easy five kilometres without a hill. I thought I might do the whole ring road on the following morning. "Good?" she asked me with an amiable smile. I nodded and we went off to shower before breakfast. We did the full ten on Tuesday morning and on Wednesday she waited for me outside the door of my accommodation block, on the porch, out of the heavy rain. With a funny, self-conscious grin she held up and tinkled a bunch of keys before indicating that I should follow her. We barely got damp in the quick run to the chapel where we furtively slipped inside and she locked the door behind us. She didn't say a word but pulled her tracksuit pants and cottontails down to her knees, grasped the rail of the altar and leant forward with her pale buttocks thrust out behind her. Having made her desires so clear there was no need for words and I stepped behind her as I lowered my pants. I pressed my ready horn into the cleft of her magnificent posterior to find she'd put a generous amount of KY there, penetrating her vulva minutely. "No!" she gasped, "not there. Up a bit." I did as she bid and had to push hard against a tight anus which wasn't visible in the early light. She reached around to hold my knob in the right place. "Push!" she told me. "Yes, that's it. More. Harder." Suddenly her entrance yielded and my knob sort of popped inside her tight entrance as she cried in pain and surprise. As I worked my prick further inside her she became ever more excited and voluble at the experience until I was sure that anyone passing might hear us and come in to investigate, although we could quickly assume the guise of worshipers and say that the wind blew the door shut. Nobody would really think we'd been shagging in the chapel, would they? She panted, gasped and moaned, her knuckles white from the tight grip on the railing, as I steadily lengthened my pelvic thrusting to eventually get my whole cock sliding in and out of her slippery anus. She barely moved at all, doing little more than tighten her sphincter each time I withdrew from her trembling body. I reached under her sweatshirt to pull her sports-bra away from a pair of firm, heavy breasts which swayed and quivered delightfully as I rammed my hips hard against her warm, soft bottom. On feeling the electric tingles of orgasm begin in my loins I reached down to find and diddle her clitty until she was obviously about to come, thrusting one last, lusty time deep inside her to gush my warm, creamy load into her bowel. I clung tightly to her hot and convulsing body as ecstatic thrills swept wildly through us both. In due course she turned to face me and put her arms up around my neck to kiss me on the mouth. "I s'pose we'd better get running now," she smiled coyly. "I've got a lot of penance in store for that much sin." "The better it feels, the worse the sin?" "Something like that." "How can anything so nice be bad? It'd have to be a pretty perverse kind of creator to make rules like that." "I don't like to think about it. I just do as I'm told." We sneaked back into the early gloom giggling insanely at what we'd done, the rain had fallen away to drizzle, completing a full lap of the internal perimeter road. I felt pretty good having got rid of the cobwebs with our very pleasant quickie, saying so to Louise. "Me too," she grinned at me. "It was a completely new experience to me." "Okay though?" "Well, I actually tried it to see how it felt after you told me about you and Emma. It was surprisingly nice." "A little bit of rebellion on your part?" "Probably, but I don't really want to think about 'why' at the moment. I think I'm at a crossroad and your presence here has been my first chance to explore my dark side." "I have a feeling that you're less than certain about earlier decisions you've made about your life." She nodded almost imperceptibly. "Richard?" She repeated her nod. "There's no easy way out of it," I told her. "You have to be strong." "I'm kidding myself. I couldn't do that." "What's the real problem." "I thought that joining the service would be my great adventure before I got married, but after initial and trade training I was posted home and got engaged. I was in heaven then, but now after being commissioned and coming back over here I sometimes feel that I'm at a new beginning. I'm now twenty-five years old and going nowhere on a personal level; all my colleagues are into travel and have shagged half the male population if you believe them." Later that day I took a punt and sent an anonymous note about one Richard Lewis to the police in my home city. * On the following mornings we repeated the dose, but having vaginal rather than anal sex in the chapel. By Friday she'd loosened up enough to face me as we screwed in the knee-trembler position. "I have to go away for the weekend," she told me as we jogged around the perimeter road. "It's a seminar for service women in Sydney and I drew the short straw." Actually I didn't mind as I looked forward to doing a little angling in a local estuary that I'd fished a couple of years previously with success. In addition, I'd become concerned at her risk taking and wondered whether she mightn't had another agenda concerning me. Being caught shagging in chapel would result in at least a dishonourable dismissal from the forces for both of us. That evening after lectures the mess was crowded for Happy Hour, the once weekly social event requiring members to attend until the OC base leaves. I saw Louise with her colleagues and stayed with my student group until after the buffet meal. "Hi Jack," Louise greeted me brightly. "There's someone I'd like you to meet, this is Heather." Heather was a slender redhead with the rank of flight officer who, from a distance appeared to be in her early twenties, but was probably closer to forty than twenty. She was nevertheless, an extremely attractive woman who I was sure I could enjoy a sexual interlude with, if she asked. However her ring finger exhibited engagement, wedding and eternity rings, making that a bit unlikely. "Heather's one of our reserves staff," Louise went on. "She does the odd weekend during the year, plus two weeks full time." We shook hands and I noticed that Heather had a firm, masculine hand grip as she stared deep into my eyes. "How do you do," she said, somewhat huskily. We all joined the mess games and dancing later in the night. It was then that I discovered that Heather's husband was the protestant chaplain, as he kissed her on leaving for home. Louise had to shower before catching a red-eye flight in the wee hours, so I wandered off to my bed with half a skinfull and slept well. Pastors' Ladies On waking and feeling better than I'd expected, I dressed for my run and found Heather waiting in the portico. "Lou said you liked a morning run. Want some company?" she grinned like a woman in the know. "It looks like it wasn't all she told you," I said sombrely. "No," she grinned again, holding up the chapel keys. "She did mention you liked to give the ferret a run too. You up to it?" I was surprised at her indelicate use of the usually male euphimism for a quickie and her easy proposition for sex. I nodded, then followed her down to the chapel at the trot. Once inside I dropped my trackie pants and underdaks to the knees as she had done already, then moved in behind her as she gripped the altar rail and thrust her bare bottom backward to me. It was a lovely little bottom, much rounder and more fully upholstered than I'd have thought from her rather spare frame. "No, not there," she moaned as I made to enter her anus. "Here." She pulled my rigid cock down slightly and I pushed my full length easily into her wet and willing love-sheath. "Ooooh, lovely," she breathed blissfully. "Mmmmmm," I agreed as I began thrusting my hips to her pretty bottom in a slow, steady rhythm of love. I reached up to feel her boobs which were unfettered by a bra and as hard as those of a pubescent teenager, her nipples big atop small areolar cones. "Ooooooh!" she sighed excitedly as I tweaked them, jolting at the thrill. The cadence of our shagging gradually increased and I realized that she was diddling her clitty as I rammed at her drooling pussy. She squeaked and gasped in sexual abandon, her orgasm clearly imminent, then gently clutched my balls to cause me to climax involuntarily and trigger her own with the sudden, repeated squirts of warm semen into her womb. "Oh dear, Jack," she smiled wanly after we'd calmed down and my penis had drooped wetly from her vagina. "Let me sit on the floor for a moment." She sat, then lay on the polished boards. "You go on," she told me. "I'll catch up at the bottom T-junction." "I can't leave you like this. What if something's wrong?" "It's not," she laughed quietly. "It's just the excitement, too much at one time. Go on!' I shrugged and went on and, true to her word, she caught up to me at the lower, main junction and we continued on an uneventful run. * My hire car arrived just as I got to the mess on my way to breakfast and I was at the coast by nine a.m. All the boats had been reserved, but an old guy buying bait overheard the conversation. "Yer swim?" he enquired of me. "Yeah," I responded. "Well get your bait and I'll see you at the end of the jetty, if you want to fish all day, that is." He didn't wait for my answer, but sloped off along the rickety wood pier. "I bought two packs of bait prawns and one of pilchards before staggering along the jetty clutching my belongings to myself." Cedric Lyall, my new fishing mate helped me stow my bits before heading up the estuary in an exceedingly comfortable Bertram 25. "My mates reckon we're getting too old for this," he told me bitterly. "I find myself fishing alone a lot these days." I had one of the best days I can remember, catching a huge mulloway and a lot of smaller stuff which I released. I apprised him of the number of guys passing through the mess on short-term courses, like me, suggesting that he could find company as well as open a charitable fund for Legacy or similar. He'd said that he didn't need the cash for fuel, he just wanted able-bodied comany while fishing. * My big silver croaker went down a treat with the cooks who produced a bit of fish for both Heather and I at dinner. I felt so pleasantly replete that I got a cigar and brandies for us before Heather suggested that we watch TV in Louise's room. I hadn't realized that they shared adjoining units on the ground floor of my block so I changed into a clean tracksuit and slippers and went unnoticed into their place at the end of the corridor. Although no regulation forbade our fraternization, we thought it best that we avoided a potential scandal by my not being seen with her in any compromising manner. She wore only a transparent, white lacy negligee over her satiny smooth, tanned skin and I wondered whether she was a public or private nudist. Her manner indicated a degree of shyness with me and I saw it as a good sign in that I could look forward to more than a quickie that night; a long session of nooky in fact. We got under the covers in Louise's bed and watched a movie for the first hour or so, until the sex scene, when she pressed her bottom back in my lap to discover my state of arousal. Knowing that my cock was erect she reached behind her and down into my tracky-daks to gently fondle it with her small, warm hand. "I'll give you ten years to stop that," I murmured, grasping a little tit and tonguing her ear. She lay back as I opened her garment and took one hard, dark cone into mymouth to nip and suck at the broad nipple. "Ooooh Jack!" she gasped deeply. "Oooh ye-es!" We kissed, tongues in each other's mouth exploring, holding each other in a desparately tight grip of passion. "Take your things off," she whispered urgently. "I want to feel your skin against mine." I got up to comply as she shed her negligee and lay back in the low light with her slender legs apart and a somewhat nervous smile on her face while rubbing her lower belly with the palm of her hand. I knew what she wanted of me so I lay with my face to her crotch and deeply kissed her pussy with my tongue as deeply into her vagina as I could manage. Her body was that of a twelve or thirteen-year-old, but her cunt was something else: seeming too big for her slim form. Her vulvar lips were long and fleshy while her inner labia protruded well beyond them, the frilled edges turned outward. She'd perfumed her crotch and I loved the scent of sexually excited woman mixed with cologne, driving me on to give her all she desired of me, poking and pressing her truly big clitoris with my tongue, then sucking at it with my lips. She clutched at my hair as I thrilled her, then pinching her rigid nipples between thumb and forefinger and using my teeth to pull and nibble at her distended clitty until she was in a sensual delerium. Louder sounds began to escape her quivering lips as I realized that she was on the point of orgasm. "Ooooh no!" she moaned, pulling my head from her lower body. She went stiff as she came, convulsions of pleasure jolting her hot body repeatedly, grabbing me tightly as I crawled forward above her and lowered my hips to slide my hard member deep inside her unctuous vagina. I waited until her spasms began to abate before starting a long, langourous pelvic thrusting at her red-fringed quim. She seemed to be about to protest, but changed her mind to welcome me into her clinging valley of delight. Her legs were wrapped around mine and she was clawing at my pumping buttocks without restraint, moaning my name and endearments which I'd have thought she'd have reserved for her beloved hubby. "Harder! Faster!" she gasped desperately, increasing the cadence of her rotational hip movements and needing me to match her in a quivering state of near frenzy. My belly smacked loudly upon hers and she began gibbering with 'oo! oo! oo!' sounds until she shrieked, or maybe it's how it sounded to me, went entirely rigid and crushed me to herself in something akin to a death-grip. I kept thrusting manfully under extreme pressure until I too came, plunged my penis deep inside her and gushed copiously into her womb once again. I must have dozed off as we cooled and remember her wriggling from under my full weight before snoozing again. "Coffee?" she asked, shaking me gently by right my shoulder which was still a bit tender from my fight with the croaker. "Mmmmm," I agreed and held the mug as she added sugar. "I've got to get going in a minute, but I have time for a quickie, if you're interested," she suggested with a coy grin. I was and we did. She put a couple of pillows under her bottom to do it in the missionary way for starters, then raised her legs to my shoulders as I leaned forward over her in a kneeling position, my pumping hips pounding wetly against the backs of her thighs. We panted and sighed, then moaned and gasped as we ground our hips ever faster in what was going to be a true quickie. My glistening penis slid faster and faster in and out of her wet cunt until she cried out in excitement, going completely stiff as spasms of pure delight racked her trembling form. I then thrust deep and hard into a flexing pussy to gush hugely into her womb. We lay entwined for a time before she playfully slapped my bum to tell me I'd miss breakfast unless I got a wriggle on. I pulled my tracksuit on and slipped out the door without being spotted, but got to my door to find I'd lost my keys. The door hadn't locked so I slipped inside again to find her still naked where I'd left her, trying to stuff a diaphram into her pussy. "Sorry, left my keys," I smiled as I picked them from the floor. I really couldn't imagine why she'd want to replace her cap after nooky, but she was the woman, she should know about these things. I never saw her again. * I couldn't find Cedric so I contented myself with a day's shore fishing while sucking down a few wild oysters and light beers. I did surprisingly well for myself, giving away a number of my larger catches to kids angling nearby and taking home a big dusky flathead, my favourite table fish, for the cooks to fry for me. Louise didn't turn up that night nor the following morning, but I saw her at dinner where she invited me down to her room to watch TV. She really did want to view something, a British series entitled 'The Prisoner', one of my favourites too. "So you introduced Heather to a spot of adulterous in-and-out too," she grinned at me. "You teed it up, between you, didn't you?" I accused her. "Well I didn't want to see you lonely," she smiled amiably. "I'm certain you don't want to be moping around here, missing your girlfriend." "I'm between girlfriends at the moment," I told her self-consciously. "So there's none to miss." "Well I really can't imagine why you're being so bloody ungrateful then," she chuckled. "Not just one, but two lovers who love the feel of nice dicky inside them." "Thank you," I said with a peck on her cheek. She rolled backwards to stretch out on her bed, pulling me over with her and locking her mouth to mine in a seriously salacious kiss with a probing tongue and her teeth pulling at my lips. I reached for her broad bottom to draw her hard against me, sliding my thigh between hers to discover her wet quim was bare beneath her negligee and moving my hand over to titillate her eager clitty. On unfastening the front of her garment I gazed down at her magnificent bosom, her still firm breasts white with pink, conical areolae and big hard nipples which just begged to be bitten. "Oi!" she protested. "Not nice?" I enquired. She snuggled up to me and grasped my hard cock. "It's nice," she breathed into my ear, "but I'll tell you when, okay?" I nodded obediently. "Now," she smiled. "Heather said you're into oral sex. I've never had it, or done it, so I'd like to try what you did for her." We quickly stripped and I admired her pale, voluptuous body, curvaceous and so desirable to me that I ached, but she made the running by going down on me and sucking my dick. "Okay?" she wanted to know, sounding much more like a young teenager than a woman of her age. She obviously knew something of the arts of fellatio as she was able to take my cock deep into her mouth and I didn't feel the scrape of a tooth at all. She sucked and licked and nibbled, stroked my inner thighs, belly and flanks until I felt the spark of climax ignite my senses. "I'm going to come!" I gasped, my rotating hips moving ever faster until she used her soft fingers to twiddle my balls and cause me to gush my semen into her eager mouth. She sucked and swallowed rapidly until she had it all and, to my complete astonishment, she too came. It wasn't your full-blown orgasm, but an orgasm nonetheless. "You came too?" I smiled. "Mmmmm," she blushed. "It was strange wasn't it, but nice. I can come by just playing with my nipples. They're really sensitive. Doing that felt as sensual." She slid up beside me and I tasted myself on kissing her deeply, savouring the unbelievably voluptuous feeling of her silken smooth skin against mine. Lying on her I slid down to face her formidable bosom, feeling the wetness of her pussy below my belly and putting my mouth to her nipples to suck and nibble at the hard, swollen pink cones. "Now bite me!" she gasped hotly, feeling her jerk and jolt at the thrills of my complying. She came once again; just another mild orgasm and I slid further down her body to tongue her deep slit navel before putting my mouth to her pussy and poking my tongue deep within her vagina. Her hips moved violently when I pressed and circled her erect clitoris with my tongue before gently pulling at it with both lips and teeth before she tried to shove my head away from her crotch. "Wait Jack darling," she gasped. "It's just a bit too much so soon." By then of course her taste and scent had fully aroused me once again and, before she realized what I intended, I was on and wholly inside her without having to use my hands. "You bugger!" she hissed, then giggled at my impertinence. "Clever though. Didn't think you could do it without hands." I moved my hips and penis almost imperceptibly as she lay still below me, allowing her senses to settle before getting into further sexual activity and luxuriating at the intimate entwining of our bodies. Eventually I felt her move a little, gently undulating her hips and rotating her gorgeous bum to slide my stiff, tingling dick within her sopping sheath, then increasing the force and frequency of her reciprocal thrusting to mine. Our love-making became a mad, sexual gallop and, as much as I tried, had no hope of holding my climax at bay for another moment when I came. I drove my cock deep into her body with my final thrust, squirting very little, but enough to set off her orgasm too. We clung together shining sweatily as our bodies shook and jerked with sensual spasms of pure pleasure. "That was fun," she grinned as we partialy parted, clamping her hot pouch hard on my cock. "Might do it again some time." And we did, three times before I retired to my own bed around 2 a.m. * Louise was not around the Mess after work or after dinner and didn't turn up for our run in the morning. I didn't see her again until Friday evening because I thought it best policy not to ask after her on base, noticing her arrival at the airport as I was leaving. "I had to go home, emergency leave," she told me soberly. "Richard's been locked up." 'Oh shit!' I thought, 'I'd been a bit previous with my dob on the perv.' "What for?" I asked sincerely. "He's got a wine cellar under his house that I'd never known about. It's full of what the police called 'kiddy-porn', dirty pictures of children downloaded from the internet. It was so embarrassing to be associated with him in any way. He's been thrown out of theological school, I gave him his ring back and fines will probably cost him his house. He really hasn't a lot to look forward to and looked so utterly pathetic crying in the visitors room at the remand centre." "I'm sorry Louise, truly," I told her, less than sincerely. "Don't be," she smiled wanly. "I didn't tell you, but Richard sent me an ultimatum, wanting me home permanently by the end of this year. Now I don't need to make that decision. The police informant really did me a favour as I'd been trying to compose a suitable 'Dear John' over the past week." She gave me a knowing look, but didn't elaborate on her earlier comments. "I'm glad we met again my darling Jack," she told me as I was called for my flight and an air movements corporal came toward us. "Let's get together soon, okay?" I nodded as we shook hands, then headed for my gate. We never did get together again after that, as matters transpired. A good thing on reflection: it may well have spoiled the memory of a particularly pleasant time for two people who really had no long term future together. She continued her career, advancing in rank while she gained professional qualification, eventually marrying a pilot and becoming the mother of many. * Almost a year later I marched in to a new posting involving my living in one of the larger metropolitan area officers' messes. Without mentioning a name or the circumstances, I'd told a good mate about the carnal adventures at my recent course, not expecting the story to have travelled far from him since then. Within a week in my new mess it had been mentioned obliqely to me by one female officer and I'd been questioned overtly by a male comrade. Initially I pleaded ignorance to the matter, but then came clean when I was told a tale of a recent attempted priestly molestation by a seriously spunky, female subaltern who was serious about having revenge upon her former priest and an uncaring church. Our first visit to the church was at night. She'd hidden somewhere within and then opened the deadlocked doors as I lugged her heavy bags up to her. We spent a couple of hours spreading fish around into every nook and hidey-hole, wall vents and atop the confessionals; it would take them at least a week to find and remove those they could get at and forever for the others. Finally she took my hand and led me up to the altar where she dropped her tracksuit pants and gripped the rail with her sweet little bottom pushed to the rear in invitation. "How about precautions?" I enquired as I slid my daks down. "No need," she told me firmly. "I'm due." I don't know whether she'd lubricated her pussy or if she was just so wet from anticipation, but I slid my knob into her before she made a sound that indicated some discomfort. "Don't stop!" she groaned while I felt her sphincter tighten momentarily, then relax. I pushed again and, as the pressure increased, something inside her gave way and I slid deep into her virginal sheath as she exhaled explosively. It was only a moment before she was ready to go on, signalling with an urgent wiggle of her posterior before I began sliding my cock in her unctuous cunt again. She worked herself into a wild, fucking frenzy, she was a mad woman, clearly unconcerned at the amount of noise that she made or, apparently, of being caught. Suddenly she stiffened in climax, her buttocks clamping on my cock. "Ooooh God! Ooooh Jesus Christ! Fuck you JP-Two," she yelled emotionally. "How do you like that you bastards." When she relaxed once again I was able to continue thrusting as she tried to keep still for me until I too went rigid and gushed a full load of semen deep within her belly and felt her come again. Eventually my flaccid member fell wetly from her pussy as she made a sound of disappointment, but we had no words until we were in the car and away. "I haven't been so excited since, I don't know, for as long as I remember anything really," she suddenly blurted in an agitated gabble. "That was some statement," I chuckled. "And those bastards used guilt to keep me from discovering how much fun I could've been having, then tried to tell me it was alright to do it with a fucking priest," she spat. "Bloody stinking, fucking hypocrites." We became an item then and Jo seemed to be making a real effort to catch-up on all the sex she believed she'd missed out on since puberty, having an eager quickie in all kinds of places that seemed to be fun at the time, but still feeling that she hadn't quite finished with her erstwhile church. Pastors' Ladies She told me what she wanted and twisted my arm to help until I eventually gave in and agreed. The idea of confronting a priest in his own church gave me a bit of a chill, although it did excite me as it was something that was sure to see us discharged if the police became involved. She was quite sure that he wouldn't dare risk having the matter going to court and we could do as she wished to torment him. As we walked into the church she felt the front of my trousers for a lump to reassure her that I was ready. We'd barely stopped to wait when an older lady emerged from the confessional and Jo urged me forward. At the door I'd crouched to enter in a duck-walk and sit before opening my flies to bare my erect penis. She lifted her skirt and sat in my lap to engulf my cock, then lean forward. "You know what Father Joe?" she asked. "I'm sitting here committing awful sins with my naughty boyfriend whose not a Catholic either." He couldn't help himself, having to look to see an open-legged, upskirted Jo with my dick penetrating the cunt which he'd recently desired to try. It made him gasp with what sounded like pain, but held him frozen to the place as she told him what we'd done to the church as she rolled her slim hips to slide my cock in and out for his benefit. Finally he made a strange strangling, gargling sound and fled raving into the presbytery where, we discovered later, he suffered a total breakdown. Jo and I finished our nooky before venturing outside the confessional to find a crowd of elderly parishioners looking a bit shocked. "We saw Father Joe playing with himself inside," Jo said in a breathless whisper. "With his...?" gasped an old duck as she waved a limp hand. "Yes," she agreed, "his..." She imitated the droopy hand and the old dear blushed profusely. "We're going to get his doctor in," Jo told them confidentially. "It may best for Father if we were to keep this under our hats, save embarrassment for the poor man." They agreed and he was alone for three days with a huge supply of liquor at his disposal. Apparently he hasn't uttered an intelligible word since he was 'rescued'. A couple of months later Jo received an overseas posting as a long-term, professional development student to be followed then by a similar period as an instructor at the same military school. She'd be away for about fifteen months, so it had to be goodbye for us, for her sake. I didn't want her to lose that kind of opportunity on my account, particularly when I thought of the situation being reversed, although I felt devastated by a break-up for the first time in my life. Over the following years I was approached by young officers, mostly women wanting to hear about 'naughty nookies' and whether it was true, many going on to try it themselves after enlisting my help. Most were 'just for fun', but two I remember were definitely revenge jobs against guys who'd clearly been seen to have abused their position in relation to the girl involved. Then Jo came back into my life. * Some years later I received a letter from a sender whose name was not one I immediately recognized, purporting to be from some reverend gentleman out somewhere beyond the Black Stump. "Dear Sir, You and I have never met, so far as I can remember, but I do think of you as a great friend. You are, you see, the biological father of our son, a dear and sensitive child who is everything one could hope for in an heir. While I'd become aware that it was I who was responsible for our childlessness, I couldn't admit it to Heather and was, as you could imagine I'm sure, rather less than impressed when she anounced that she was expecting. I held my tongue, thank goodness, and have only recently heard the circumstances of his conception from my wife, without details of when and where. Your forbearance during the act itself was admirable and I must say that I'd have understood if you'd wanted something more from her, in the physical sense. My reason for writing is to ask you to consider fathering one more child for us. Heather still thinks of you with some fondness and I would think us twice blessed if we were to have another like our Jack, particularly if it were to be a daughter. Do please give this request your most earnest consideration and answer us when you've come to a decision, whenever that might be. May God bless you, Yours sincerely, B.Valentine Midgeley." The idea of siring a child who would be saddled for his/her lifetime with a name like Midgeley and be burdened with religious superstition was too horrendous to contemplate, so I screwed up the letter and tossed it into the waste-paper basket. Besides, Jo and I were to embark upon concurrent, overseas, exchange postings that week and were then discussing our trying for her first pregnancy during the last six months of our sojourn.