5 comments/ 12047 views/ 2 favorites Rita Remembers By: warmhoney1 Author's Note: This story is set in the 1930's before Vatican II. It is a love story between a Roman Catholic priest and a woman he comes to love while he was in Rome, Italy. If this type of story offends you, read no further. If you like a love story, then enjoy. Thanks to my best friend and soul sister for all your help. Rita Remembers Chapter 1 Mrs. Rita Thompson was a middle age Korean War widow. Her husband had been an Air Force colonel when his plane was shot down over the seas off of North Korea and he was killed. Her two children were in their teens now and spending part of their summer at camp while she was visiting with her diplomat parents who were now re-assigned to the new Italian government. Her Dad was now the Ambassador to the Italian Government where he and her Mom were settling in at the newly redecorated American embassy. Rita had come to help her Mom; but also to remember. Just a few days before, as she was packing to fly to Rome, she had seen a short article in the New York Times about a new bishop of Hartford, Connecticut. The name had stood out in flaming letters and her hands had shook. She remembered him so well. He had changed in looks, but she would know those steel gray eyes anywhere. She had always wondered what happened to him. It was as if he had vanished. Now as she sat in a pew of the small church near the Vatican walls, she thought back almost 20 years. Rita was a typical American young lady –if there is such a thing for any young woman in 1930. The Depression had hit her family, but since her Father was an American Deputy Ambassador from the US Congress to the Italian government, and they were based in Rome, Italy, she was far less affected than her friends at home. Rita spoke English of course, but also fluent Italian and French. She had an ear for languages and an eye for the intriguing people who spoke these words. She had glossy brunette hair, curling softly down to her mid-back and vivid dark brown eyes that seemed to glow with interest. She was also a student of the many styles of architecture available in Rome, and kept her slim figure fit and trim by walking all over Rome's seven hills! One sunny Spring afternoon, she was hurrying down one of the staircases of the DelaRosa Musee, not really paying attention to where she was going when her left foot slipped and she fell against a tall stranger with broad shoulders and a fine sense of balance. He caught her before she fell and held her against his chest with strong arms. She looked into dark eyes that seemed to see into her soul. She saw only his eyes and didn't pay any attention that he was wearing a black suit and a Roman collar. He was a Roman Catholic Priest – but she only saw the man. With a hasty "Excuse me, I apologize for bumping you," she retreated and blushed at her terrible faux paux. You weren't supposed to be in the arms of any priest let alone in public and chest to chest and being tightly held -- no matter the reason. "It is quite all right Miss. Are you sure you're steady now? Let me help you to the bottom of the stairs." He held her elbow and guided her down the stairs to a broad bench at an alcove at the bottom of the stairway. "I am Fr. Francis O'Connor but my friends call me Fr. Frank." "Thank you again for helping me," she replied trying to smile. "I know I would have fallen had you not been there. I'm Rita Moore and my family and I are from Baltimore. My father is Deputy Ambassador." She looked down at her ankle. "I guess this sudden hot weather has me a bit shaky...I think I need some ice for my ankle. But I also need some for my stomach." "I know a solution," he said. "If you will lean on me while we go across this courtyard, the museum has a small trattoria where we can get your ankle some ice and perhaps a coffee and some gelato for your empty tummy." She agreed and he helped her limp slowly across the courtyard to a shady table in the corner where she was able to elevate her left foot and ankle. They ordered gelato and coffees and ice for her ankle. As they waited to be served, she asked Fr Frank if he had seen the new exhibit of French and Spanish religious art. "I know some of them are copies but the chance to see all of these Old Masters and the photographs of the churches that they belong in is such a great opportunity," she enthused. Fr Frank agreed and they talked of the artists and the various statues and paintings through the gelatos and the coffee and the melting ice on her now recovering ankle. Rita and Fr Frank knew they had to leave since it was now dark and the trattoria was closing, but Fr Frank knew he could not easily rise from his chair. Their open and honest conversation –her lively eyes and bright smile and her obvious intelligence as they had discussed the art intrigued him! He was only 28 and had been a Priest for almost five years. Rita was 31 but then she was a diplomat's daughter and she has been based abroad for much of the last 15 years. He willed his obvious physical interest in this exciting young woman to subside...these were very unaccustomed feelings and he had been surprised at his erection even if it was hidden under the table. Finally he was able to get up and he made a definite effort to assist her in also rising and then slowly walking to the nearest exit. As they walked he was able to really look at his companion. Rita was quite tall. She was almost as tall for a woman at 5'10" as he was for a man at 6'2". His broad shoulders had come from sports he had played from high school through college and into the seminary...football and now soccer, baseball, and even tennis had been activities to take the physical urges that he needed to resist and turn them into physical activities that involved the mind and the body. But now his body was ready to betray him. He helped her into a waiting taxi and then slowly walked the long blocks to the North American College near the Vatican and St. Peters. He needed to pray and meditate – he knew he could not see her or be with her again. She was the worst kind of temptation – the biggest temptation he had had since he was ordained a Priest. Intelligence and beauty and understanding all wrapped into one intriguing package! And she spoke not only English but also French and Italian. Praying and meditating didn't help that much and he spent hours on his knees; but then he would look at one of the pieces of artwork in the chapel and all he could see was her face; the shining eyes and that special smile that seemed to be for him alone. His next afternoon off he returned to the Della Rosa Musee but she was not there and he was rather disappointed. Several days passed and he was in the new exhibit at the Vatican Library –which had not opened to the General Public yet – but there she was! "Well Fr Francis! How nice to see you again! I was hoping that you might be here. Were you involved in this new exhibit in any way? I know the Society of Jesus has several things in it own collections that are quite extraordinary." "Ah Rita, how nice to see you also. But really, call me Frank –all my friends do." "Well Fr Frank it is then." He chuckled as his eyes held hers. "That is fine until you are comfortable enough to just call me Frank." They walked through the exhibit commenting quietly about the displays of church ceremonial plates and small art work and relics. They often were bent over the same cases and their heads were close together. Frank inhaled deeply as her soft perfume wafted from her hair and her white shoulders into his line of sight. Her hair was pinned up against the heat of the late Roman Spring and he had the strongest desire to remove the pins and run his fingers thru her glossy brown curls until it fell down her back. They had only spent an hour or so at the exhibit but Frank knew he wanted to spend time with her and afternoon tea seemed to be a way to keep them in public but also allow some privacy. He mentioned it to her very quietly and she smiled. "I'd like that," she replied. They walked to a nearby café and ordered afternoon tea and some gelato for the heat. They talked of everything...where she had traveled with her diplomat family and where he had traveled as he had spent the 14 years of a Jesuit seminarian's education and then ordination. He was finishing his Masters' thesis and he was also an assistant pastor at one of the local small churches near the Vatican walls. Time together for them stretched into hours and the trattoria served them a fine antipasto, and then pasta Alfredo and bread with a light dry red wine to accent the flavors in the sauce. Hours passed and he knew that it was time to leave. They held hands as they moved along the dark sidewalks but they didn't hurry. It was as if time now meant nothing. As they crossed around a shaded corner, he stopped and turned her into his arms and she leaned forward. They kissed. Frank thought she might slap him but no--instead she leaned against his shoulder and they kissed again. Pulling back slightly from her warm, willing lips, he whispered, "Go home with me." It was neither a question nor a command. He waited at her slight hesitation, and then she nodded. "Yes." Moving slowly up the stairs her hand in his, she moaned softly and there in the stairwell they kissed again and her tongue danced over his lips. Opening the door, he brought her inside and they stood in the tiny one room apartment. It has his single bed on one wall and an old lumpy dilapidated couch on the other wall. They stood in the middle of the floor for a few moments...words were not necessary. They kissed again and then she started to lead him towards the bed. He stopped and she spoke softly "You don't have to do this. I do know what it means for you. If you do not want to do this, I will leave and not return. It is your choice." She looked at him so clearly and with such understanding. "Yes it is my choice and yes I choose YOU!" and he reached up and pulled his Roman collar off his shirt. Rita reached over and began undoing his buttons and he softly unbuttoned her summer sundress that buttoned all the way down to the hemline. His fingers soon were softly stroking her breasts and her nipples were hard beneath his shaking fingers. She was trembling also...from need and emotion. Soon his shirt was open and her fingers were circling his neck and down across his slightly hairy chest with the strong muscles. He groaned when she stroked first one of his nipples and then the other and followed these with a kiss on his left ear and then down the left side of his neck. Frank closed his eyes and though that he might actually faint with the sudden rush of blood from his head down to his strong erection. He could feel the pulsing rub against the zipper of his pants. He looked at Rita's soft strong body as he gazed in wonder. She was not his first, but it had been a long time since he had made love with a woman. As he was looking, she reached up and hooked her panties with her fingertips and slipped them down over her hips and then her knees to her ankles. Stepping out of them, she handed them to Frank. He felt the dampness and softly raised them inhaling her scent of passion. She reached across and slowly unzipped his pants–carefully easing the zipper past his straining erection. He was large and long...perhaps the longest penis she had ever seen...over 9" and almost 3"in diameter. His pants fell to the floor and she knelt down and grasping first one ankle and then the other helped him remove his shoes and then his pants. Sliding her strong fingers down his thighs; down to his ankles, she slid off his socks, and dropped them into his shoes. As she stood up his hands drifted into her hair and she felt him taking out the large pins that held her hair up –one by one –and her hair fell down her back in soft curves. Clad only in soft peach silk panties, she felt his strong hands slip down her curving abdomen. She moaned softly as he slid the panties down and off, and then return to dip into the silky curls hiding her mons venires. His fingers moved softly as he felt the forbidden lips...the heart of a woman he never expected to experience again after his Ordination. His fingers dimly remembered and then he slid them into her wet and quivering pussy. Her hands were not idle and she slowly slid his tight briefs past his strong erection hearing it slap against his stomach. He seemed to grow even larger. Again she fell to her knees and this time she softly took his proud cock into her mouth...first licking and tonguing the head and then softly working her way around first up to the head and then down the shaft into the hair at the base of his balls. "Oh yes –please more...please Dear God more!" Rita knew that she could not swallow his huge cock but she could work with him and using her hands could bring him pleasure and relief. She could only swallow the head but using her tongue and hands together she moved the sensitive skin at the back of the cock into her mouth and then sucked strongly but gently. Tonguing his shaft under the corona, she found the vein that ran from the tip down to the base. It was very sensitive and as her lips found it –Frank groaned loudly. He knew he had to stop her or he couldn't control his cumming! He knew she would stop if he began to give her the loving strokes and tongue that he wanted. Urging her to step back two steps and then lie across the narrow bed, he opened her thighs with his knee and kissed her deeply starting at her mouth and then working down her sweet soft body....breasts and then graceful curves of her abdomen and then wiry curls from sweet sex. Long years before...his experiences had been brief encounters and heavy petting. Seminary brought the usual lectures about the sacred vows –and about the temptation of women within a parish environment. But this was different. As he kissed and sucked and nibbled, his right hand had softly reached into her vagina. She was wet –juicy wet but very tiny. And that would just NOT do for Lil Frank and his needs for release! He stroked her first with one finger and then slid the tips of both his index and his middle finger into her. Circling the soft folds, he pushed against the sides of her pulsing pussy stretching her tight muscles. Murmuring soft words, he whispered "Relax, honey." while his fingers slipped even higher and pushed more strongly. Rita's vagina was pulsing around his fingers –almost mini-orgasms in her excitement. His erection was dripping with pre-cum and he pressed her more deeply into the bedspread as his weight pushed his cock slowly into her slippery pussy. He bent her knees up and they hugged his hips; and as he thrust forward he took her legs and placed them on top of his broad shoulders. His next thrust took him deep into her –so deep that he felt her cervix. Moaning even louder, she closed her eyes. "No Rita...Open your beautiful eyes, I want to see them as we make love!" he commanded. Rita opened them and looked deeply into his blue gray eyes. "You are filling me so deeply –I have never felt like this before!" He began moving rhythmically and faster as she relaxed and opened to his thrusting. His thrusting triggered her strong orgasms and she pulsed around him...pulsed and moved so strongly that he held onto her shoulders to keep her centered. He could not stop his thrusting and he was so deep that he thought he would go completely into her ...cock and balls and all. He knew he had to pull out, but before he could --he exploded and his cum filled her vagina. Hastily he did pull out and his cum pulsed out of her pussy and around his cock. Laying down beside her, they both trembled and breathed deeply as if there was not enough oxygen in the room. "I didn't mean to let go inside you...I meant to pull out." Frank spoke softly. He was upset -- his voice showed it. "It is all right or it will be. I can go to the Farmacia at our Embassy and get a box of condoms.", Rita spoke quietly trying to calm Fr. Frank's fears. Frank rose and got a wet cloth from the tiny bathroom, and stroking softly wiped her wet thighs and dripping folds. He opened her just enough to clean her gently as he sat next to her raised knees and lovely strong buttocks. His mind was racing – he knew he wanted to see her –to be with her again. This was not going to be a one-time thing...they had an attraction and it was special. Fr Frank and Rita talked. They had to plan so that they could meet when he had time -- when his duties allowed. She had started to rise to get dressed but Frank spoke words she had never expected to hear. "Don't go. I want to wake up next to you in the morning." "Do you think that is wise? she asked. "Can what we are doing stand up to the light of day?" "I don't know right now," he said, "but it is what we both want and it is what we both need right at this moment." Rita understood and she walked into the bathroom to clean up. They both knew the Church's stance on what they had done, and especially whom she had done it with. She softly said a Hail Mary and crossed herself before opening the door and turning off the light. She went back to the small single bed and as she slipped naked into it, his back was against the wall and her hips fitted into his as if they were two spoons nestled close together. They talked of their feelings as they had made love and then they talked of his schedule tomorrow...or rather later this morning as it was after 1:00AM. He had to do Divine Office and he was scheduled to do the 7:00 AM Mass at his small church. She went to sleep in his arms, but it was over an hour later before he slept as his mind wrestled with his guilt over his broken vow. He didn't feel enough guilt to think that this was so terribly wrong and must never happen again. He wanted her...wanted to be with her. He knew it would happen again. Finally he slept with his arms around her and his soft but present erection nestled between the cheeks of her buttocks!! Her hair caressed his face and even tickled his nose as he tried to sleep. Finally his racing thoughts stilled and he slept deeply. A few hours later, they both stood together in the small shower, their hands stroking in intimate ways as they learned what each touch meant to the other. Hurriedly he dressed in his clericals and as he closed his Roman collar, he seemed to be a bit more distant to her. She finished buttoning her sundress and looked at her silk panties lying on the end of the bed. He picked them up, folded them into a small square and tucked them into his pant's pocket. Kissing him lightly, she said "I will wait for your call late this afternoon." And she went quietly out the door and down the stairs into the early dawn. Fr Frank began the prayers of Divine Office as he walked the blocks from his apartment to the small church where he was assistant pastor. He kept on praying even as his thoughts raced between his broken vow and his strong sense of guilt and other thoughts of her beauty and how truly wonderful it had been to make love with her. He also thought about what terrible things would happen if his superiors at the North American College – the Jesuit world headquarters – would do to him if they found out about his transgressions. Censure and meetings and retreats and even the threat of not being able to give Mass or the Sacraments would only be the beginning. Certainly he would be sent back to the United States in disgrace. As he said Mass that morning, he felt terrible unworthiness and wondered how he could ever get through the entire service. But in the early morning, the few parishioners did not seem to notice the brief quiet faltering of his movements and his clear voice uttering the Latin words. He finished the Mass and went to the silent sacristy where he removed his vestments and cleaned the Chalice. As he said the special prayers for after the Mass, his thoughts were centered on Rita. Rita Remembers Ch. 02 Author's Note: My thanks to Ronnie Wachuka for his help and also for providing a male perspective. My thanks also, to my friend Gloria. There are scenes in this story that are of a fetish nature. I do not apologize for them, but offer the explanation that in the 1930s and 40s in Rome as well as other European countries, internal cleansing was the norm as was analingus. It still goes on today. That said, please continue on and enjoy. * While Rita was praying for forgiveness, Fr Frank was praying for strength to get through his busy day. He knew he wanted to be with Rita. He needed to spend more time with her, learning about her; her wants and needs, how she responded, what were the things that made her happy? He shook his head and dragged his thoughts back to the present. As much as he regretted it, Rita would have to wait. Right now he had a Homily to write, and an appointment with his Thesis Advisor at the Jesuit College where he was doing Graduate work on his Doctorate. After that, he had an appointment with Msgr. Vittalio, the Priest who had worked with him on the small part of the Vatican Library exhibit. That was when he'd met Rita. He had been previewing the Exhibit when this wonderful young lady fell into his arms and everything else was forgotten. Frank sat quietly in the Church Office and took a deep breath. He gave up on trying to write the Homily for Sunday Mass and let his thoughts stray to Rita. She was not only beautiful, but fun to be with. Her eyes twinkled with such mischief that he almost laughed out loud at some of her antics. He could see her taking her shoes off and walking in the Trevi Fountain, splashing water over her legs and thighs and then cupping water in her hands and tossing it at him as she watched him jump back. "Its not Holy Water, Frank. Its ok," she would call laughing. He would grab her by the hand and drag her from the fountain as they ran like children before they were caught. A block or so later, he would pull her to a halt against his chest and kiss her deeply as she ground against him, feeling his cock harden. He closed his eyes and could see her lying with him in his bed, her brown eyes laughing and her bright smile. He could imagine her silken hair wrapped around his engorged cock, her hands wrapped there softly stroking, as her mouth tried hard to swallow him. He went back to his apartment and tried to call her once more after he ate supper. When she answered, he knew immediately, she was upset. "Why are you crying?" he asked. "What's wrong?" "Because I thought you didn't want me and that I wasn't worth breaking your vows." He almost laughed, as he had been thinking the same about her. "Shhh, don't cry," he soothed. "Of course I want you. I've just had a lot to do, and I'm sorry you worried. I always have time for you." She stopped crying and they talked of meeting the next afternoon at the Museum that had started it all. "I can be there by 12:30 tomorrow afternoon. Is that all right with you? he asked. "Yes it is, and I'll have the chance to visit the Pharmacia before I come and meet you." "We can share lunch together then and maybe go walking in the park?" He was trying to keep her on the phone. He wanted to hear her voice; even if they couldn't be together, they could talk on the phone. After the Embassy opened the next morning, Rita quietly went to the older woman who worked at the Pharmacia there. She asked for and received a box of condoms. Slipping them into her purse, she walked out with one problem and worry solved. She walked down the hill toward the Della Rosa Musee. She didn't care that she was going to be over an hour early. She loved watching for Frank, and seeing his face light up as he approached her. Rita entered by the side door and started to climb the steps. As she did she heard a familiar voice saying "Haven't we met like this before?" Turning, she smiled down at Fr Frank. He stood two steps below her, yet their height was almost the same. She grinned, feeling her heart lurch. "I think so," she replied. She wanted to throw herself in his arms and lose herself in his kiss, but waited as he walked up the two steps to touch her hand briefly. His eyes said he wanted her as much as she wanted him, as he walked her to the nearby alcove, making sure they were alone. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her hungrily. "I'm so glad you're here," he whispered against her mouth. "Me too," she breathed. Frank was wearing a soft blue shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms and she could see the muscles bunch with his movements. He still had on the black pants from his clericals. They walked to the top floor, which was almost deserted and sat on a bench looking at a series of Spanish oils and statutes; but neither of them remembered a single painting or statue. They had eyes only for each other. Finally they walked down the steps and across the piazza to the tiny trattoria, where they were greeted, given a table in the back corner, and left alone except for a waiter who looked occasionally to see if they needed more of anything. Time flew as they talked about the war that they knew was coming, their families, and how he had become a Priest. During the small talk, they held hands under the table and stole quick kisses when they found themselves alone. They found they had much in common besides the obvious physical attraction. Again they had a light early supper at the trattoria and then she invited him to walk her back to her apartment and join her for some wine and an Italian cream cake. Frank and Rita climbed the stairs to her third floor apartment, which had a sunny living room and a balcony stretching from the bedroom around the corner to the small kitchen. Opening the wine, Frank poured two glasses, which they raised to toast each other. Taking her hand, he led her towards the comfortable sofa. As they sat down, he took the wine glass from her hand, and turned towards her. "I have spent hours on my knees trying to pray, but instead, my thoughts were of you." "Oh Frank, I can't help but feel that something as wonderful as the times we are together; the way you make me laugh, the things we agree on – even the same way we believe. This truly is NOT a sin. Yes, you are a Jesuit Priest but you are also an exciting man," she went on, "I want to be with you and spend time with you –even if it can't be that often. I know that you have duties and they must come first, but surely you have some time for your own needs. I can be that "Need!" Frank paused, thinking. He knew what she meant. Rita was willing to take only what he could give freely. She wanted more, but knew it would be impossible. She could be content with his afternoons off and an occasional overnight visit. It would be a unique friendship and also a way for them to be lovers who would not be easily detected. They looked deep into each other's eyes and seeing only passion and honesty, he leaned over to kiss her, gently at first, then pulling her against him, more deeply. Sighing she hugged his shoulders and returned the kiss until he felt some mental barrier inside him shatter. He slid his tongue into her mouth and felt her trembling become shaking as they slid closer together. The kiss left them both shaken and breathless. "I want you, Rita," Frank groaned as he placed her hand on his erection. She could feel the heat through his pants as he started to unbutton her dress with shaky fingers. There was no bra to impede him and he stroked the silky skin of her breast, watching the nipple harden before taking it into his mouth. He felt her fumble with his belt and loosened it for her. She lowered the zipper on his pants to find him leaking precum onto his briefs. She lowered her head to his lap as he raised up to push them down for her. Touching him softly, she felt the sticky liquid and tasted it. Frank groaned as he felt her tongue touch the tip of his cock and fought the urge to push deeper into her mouth. "Take me to bed, Frank," she softly whispered. "Make love to me." In seconds he was out of his clothes and she out of hers, as he picked her up and carried her to her bedroom, where he laid her on her bed and covered her with his body. "Dear God, Rita," he spoke softly, "every inch of you is beautiful." His last conscious thought was what a delectable feast was spread before him. Neither of them thought about the condoms that were still in her purse. His erection was rock-hard and pulsing as he felt her reach for him and rub the head of his cock through her wetness. He groaned as he spread her legs wider and pressed to enter her slowly. "Rub your clit for me, honey," he breathed, raggedly. Her fingers moved to the top of her vagina and began to lightly press and rub across the hard nubbin that was her engorged clit. It felt so good that she pressed harder and rubbed faster. He felt his balls tighten and knew that he was nearly ready to cum. Frank panted "rub it faster –cum with me. I can't hold off honey, I'm going to cum! If you don't want it, tell me now." She shook her head, whimpering, "Oh God, Frank, YESSSS. Cum in me. Fill me up. Fuck me hard!!! He groaned deeply as he felt his cum moving up the shaft, and he exploded in her. There was no way he could have stopped it. When she felt him shooting, she went over the edge into her own orgasm. As she trembled, she felt him hold her tight until she was only able to lie beside him and softly moan. Rita and Frank lay together recovering, he on his right side, and she on her left, facing each other. One soft kiss on Rita's cheek and then he began nibbling on her neck. His hands were softly but insistently rolling, pinching and pulling on her nipples first one then the other. Suddenly she felt a warm wet tongue licking her right breast first all around the nipple and then the super sensitive skin under the nipple. Frank moved to the left breast and found the nipple already hard and waiting for the touch of his tongue. Rita felt as if there was an electric charge running from her breasts down to the heart of her womanhood. Her vagina pulsed and she felt very aware – so aware that her responses were almost automatic. She wanted Frank to hurry, and, although he was not slow; he didn't hurry. He lavished large amounts of time touching and stroking and even using his tongue on her thighs and tummy and even the knees and the sensitive skin that was at the back on her knees. His large hands turned her over and urged her to bend over and raise her hips. He folded the largest pillow in half and wedged it under her upraised hips. Softly he stroked and nibbled on her butt cheeks. She was squeaky clean and they both knew it as she'd used the open top enema bag before she'd gone to meet him. She felt the tip of his tongue running around the rim of her anus. It pulsed as if she has been shocked but Frank did not stop and as Rita moaned she felt his hard cock touch the back of her right leg. He was dripping a little pre-cum. Rita was so excited that she was swaying back and forth, moving her buttocks, clenching and unclenching her cheeks. She knew what was coming, and wanted it badly. "Be still. No Moving!" as he popped her cheeks with a hard swat on each cheek. "I mean it, don't move!" Rita began to whimper as she tried to hold back the tears. Frank reached for the cold cream jar on the bedside table and opened it. He slathered the cold cream on her waiting anus as Rita began chanting softly "Please, oh please!" Please, oh yes, please!" But he knew that she wasn't ready yet as her anus had not dilated or relaxed enough for him. Frank touched his index finger to the center of her rosy bud and then slid it in about an inch. First he slid almost all the way in and as he felt her relax he added the waiting middle finger. She'd thought that he would never do anal with her and was surprised at his willingness at this time. He had never done it before, but knew that she would teach him. She moaned again as Frank said, "Damn woman, you're so tight!" As she relaxed, her muscles surrendered and she felt his fingers sliding in and then out over and over again. "Bear down and push!" he said gruffly, which she did and opened just enough that he was able to push the head of his cock into her sphincter. He was able to penetrate her shallowly, just an inch. Rita felt him stop. "Frank, wait for me to adjust and then I will back up slowly onto your cock. Don't push, wait for me." It took all of his willpower not to push, but he patiently waited. Slowly her anus relaxed as he felt her muscles become less vise-like around his cock. Rita moved backward and his cock was pushed and then almost sucked into her waiting cavity. "Now. Now you can move but slowly and deeply please. As deeply as you can, my darling. You do feel so good. You have NO idea how wonderful you feel filling my ass with your hard cock!" She encouraged him to move faster and to move as deeply as possible, until his testicles were slamming against her upraised thighs. The only sounds in the room were the ragged breathing, the slam of skin against skin, and the moans and groans of each of them as they approached their own orgasms. Rita was on fire! She felt each stroke as an electric shock running from her ass to her pussy and then up to her boobs. She had never EVER been this excited. Frank leaned over her back and reached around to stroke her clit with the fingers of his right hand. They still had some lube and he got even more from the dripping juices running down her thighs. She was ready and going to explode! "Oh Frank, I am going to cum right now! I can't wait any longer!" "Good...I am going to cum too. You're so damned hot I'm going to explode in your ass." Rita climaxed with a loud scream. When Frank felt her contractions as she convulsed with passion, it pushed him over too! As he came she felt it deep in her gut as if he had injected a hot heavy liquid into her intestines. He groaned loudly, even grunted a few times, but he didn't care. Leaning against her buttocks, he draped himself over her. Both of them were panting heavily. He didn't pull out but did manage to roll both of them to their left sides, his arms pulling her against his chest as he kissed the back of her neck. "Oh Rita you feel so wonderful!" "Frank just don't move...don't pull out please! You feel so good inside me. I want you to stay inside until you can't stay in any longer." He breathed a soft contented yes as they fell softly silent...just relaxing in the stillness of the night. Many years later... Rita sat still and silent, breathing in the incensed atmosphere of the quiet church. As she sat reflecting on many things, including her parents here in Rome and her family in the United States, a young cleric dressed in the familiar black cassock walked quietly up the main aisle. The sight of the young priest walking past her, genuflecting as he crossed in front of the main altar, and then disappearing into the sacristy brought a sudden flood of memories back to her mind. She recalled their last time together making love; and the consequences paid. She remembered as if it were yesterday. . . They had stumbled clumsily over to his bed, for their limbs were still entwined as if they dared not let each other go, as if it were impossible to disentangle themselves from each other. Frank pushed her down on the bed so her face was pressed against the mattress. He pushed apart her legs and lay down between them so that he was lying on top of her, his legs between hers. She could feel his cock, hard and thick, resting in between her buttocks while he kissed the back of her neck. She tried to roll over but he wouldn't let her. He began to move downward, following the line of her spine until his warm and wet tongue was at the top of the crack in her ass. Then he paused. What now? She wondered. The shock of it overwhelmed Rita in very strange way. She was turned on by the fact that he was taking control of her; making her submit to his control. It was so profane that it was making her even more aroused. Frank pulled up her hips until she was on her knees with her face still against the cool sheet on the mattress. She could feel his hands spreading apart the cheeks of her ass, which was enough to make her gasp, but then she could feel his tongue following the line between the buttocks until it found its way into the deep recesses of her vagina, which by then, was already oozing out wanton desire onto his clean crisp white sheets. Oh my god, I can't believe this, she thought to herself, while her hips moved backwards, wanting his tongue to enter even deeper. But instead he used the slippery juices to lube his cock; then she felt the hard bulbous head force itself between her quivering folds and with one strong thrust, he buried himself balls deep. He slid back almost to the point of coming out and then slammed into her lean buttocks again and again as she gasped. She came so swiftly and strongly that her vagina milked his cock and the pulsing tightness forced him to erupt. She felt his contractions and the drenching fluid filled her vagina. Almost without pausing he hardened again; but this time she knew he wanted the tightness of her anus. His fingers slid in and out of her anus slowly as he took her to heights she loved. In fact, those feelings almost transported her into a different reality as if she were no longer inside a human body, as if she were made of nothing but pure 100% orgasmic pleasure. Time no longer had meaning, She would not have been able to tell you then if it was day or night, she would not have even been able to remember her own name. She was in another realm where disbelief and arousal mutually fed each other. Then she felt him pull out. She groaned with disappointment for she didn't want it to end, but within seconds she felt something bigger and harder and stiffer push against her asshole. Oh. Frank's cock. She braced herself, knowing it would initially hurt. She relaxed her anal muscles as much as she could as she pushed her hips backwards, slowly and gently. Frank let her take control at this point as he patiently waited while she eased herself onto his cock. Once he was fully inside her, the thickness of his cock rubbing against the walls of her anus, rapture once again emerged, compelling her to move back and forth with quicker rhythm until she heard him moan. He held onto her buttocks, rubbing them and smacking them just enough to arouse her more as she fucked his cock. The shock value of this only added to the incredible delight of having a hard-on in her ass. She had never really enjoyed vaginal sex, always wanting the guy to hurry up and get it over with within ten minutes, but anal sex? She could go on all night. Now she had come to love both vaginal and anal, but it had to do more with the man and the fact that he knew what to do with her. For a long while, they fucked in near silence, letting out gluttonous sounds of exquisite satisfaction, the shaft of his cock rubbed her like a genie in a bottle. She was raised to higher and higher levels until indeed the genie came out in the form of vaginal and anal orgasms, so strong that they pushed out Frank's cock. When she came back down to reality, she collapsed on the mattress and Frank fell down next to her, his head resting on her shoulder. They lay this way for a while, catching their breath. "Jesus H. Christ!" mumbled Frank. "I've never come like that EVER!" She smiled and chuckled quietly, staring up at the ceiling, watching the lights from the streets flicker upon it. Frank placed his hand on her leg, stroking it gently, letting his fingers trail slowly from near her knee upwards to her sopping wet pussy. He found her clitoris, still swollen from her orgasm and began to circle it slowly with his fingers, before he moved them downwards to the opening of her vagina, letting his fingers go in and out, covering them with her wetness. Frank rolled over onto his side and gazed at her while his fingers continued to play. He was watching her reaction, letting it be his guide, each time she sharply inhaled or slowly sighed, he knew he had found the right spot, the right stroke and kept going. Rita Remembers Ch. 02 Then Frank began to slide down on the mattress, kissing her on the way, from her shoulder, around the curves of her breasts and then down toward where her clit waited in anticipation. She closed her eyes and opened her legs to let him in. He kept moving down the mattress until he was kneeling on the floor at the bottom of the bed, his head directly between her legs. She propped herself up on her elbows to get a better look at his face, watching his tongue licking her clit and fucking her. Frank looked at her as his tongue fucked her, which was so scintillating and almost an invasion of her personal space which made no sense, for they had gone as far as they could to invade each other's personal space. Ah, but not quite. Frank's space didn't quite get invaded just yet. Realizing this, a wicked grin spread across Rita's face, and Frank noticed. He wrinkled his eyebrows questioning, wondering why she was smiling that way. "Come here." Frank got up and lay back down beside her. "Roll over." She said. "Hmm?" he replied, puzzled. She rolled him over until his back was facing her. She began to nibble the back of his neck. She pressed her body against his back, letting him feel her breasts. She stroked his back and along his hips and gave him a gentle spank. Frank smiled languorously and unsuspectingly. This time it was Rita who slid down on the mattress, for she had something in mind. She let her tongue follow the contours of his muscled back, and kept moving down. First she let her tongue reside in that little dip at the top of his fabulous butt and waited to see how he would like it. He seemed to like it indeed for his butt moved a little closer to her face. Rita was getting very excited at this point because she knew that this was going to take him on the ride of his life. This time, she was going to fuck him. She moved down even more, and found the opening of his anus with her tongue, which she let flicker teasingly, pretending that she was on the way to his testicles. She would move away and then come back a little more insistently. He felt her index finger wet with lube lightly press against his anus. Frank kept very still, wondering what she was actually going to do. Well, he was going to find out soon enough. She let her tongue and index finger take turns tickling his anus, while her other hand reached in between his legs to reach for his cock, which was as hard as hard can get. She rolled him over onto his back and began to suck him off, and he moaned softly, guiding her head. Meanwhile, her index finger matched the rhythm of her mouth. Each time his cock went into her mouth, Rita's finger would push a little further into his anus. Then she backed off. He looked up at her to see what was going on. "Put your hands on the back of your knees, " Rita said. Frank's mouth fell open and his eyes widened. When he saw she wasn't joking, he did as he was told. He put his hands on the back of his knees and pulled them close to his chest. Now she had full access to his balls and ass. She licked straight from his asshole all the way up to the tip of his cock like it was a melting popsicle on a hot summer day. Frank whimpered as she buried her face into his dark pubic hair, inhaling his raw sexual scent before she moved back toward his anus. She looked at Frank, sticking out her tongue and wiggling her fingers. She demonstrated to him exactly what she intended to do and he rolled his eyes back in building anticipation. Rita licked her finger again and inserted it very slowly into his anus. Just the tip of it, then pulled it out and replaced it with the tip of her tongue. She went back and forth like this for a while, until his asshole was stretched enough to let her put two fingers all the way in. That is when she began to seriously fuck him in the ass. She pushed in and out as far as she could go, as quickly as she could while Frank helped by rocking his hips. He was moaning louder and louder until he began to yell out "Oh my fucking Go-o-o-o-o-o-o-d!" It was obvious he was going to come at any point so she moved upwards to inhale his cock deep into her throat. She tightened her lips around his cock to massage it as she sucked him off, making sure her finger that was buried in his anus was matching the intensity and pattern of the blowjob. "Oh My God!!!" he groaned raggedly. "That feels so damned good! I may never cum." "Yes, you will," Rita assured him before she sucked his cock back into her mouth again. She could feel his cock beginning to ripple and there it was; the burning salty taste of his cum spurting into her mouth as the muscles of his anus reverberated against her invasive finger. When he was done, she pulled her finger out gently and gave a little lick to the head of his dick before she pulled herself up to lie down beside him. "No one has ever done that to me before," he gasped, trying to catch his breath. Rita laughed and got up to get dressed. He didn't ask her to stay nor did she want him to. She bent over to grab her panties and jeans, and as she did, he darted his tongue into her cunt as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Do that again," she said and he did. "Oh God, Frank, keep going," she squealed as she rubbed her clit until she came. He lit a cigarette after she finished getting dressed and offered her a drag. She sat down next to him on the edge of his bed and shared the smoke. Stroking her cheek he quietly asked her when she and her parents would be back from their trip to Florence. "In a week or so," she replied. "Dad has to come back for meetings." They smoked another cigarette in silence and then he took her in his arms and kissed her gently. "Have a good time," he told her. "I'll see you when you get back." It was the last time she saw him as she walked out the door. Fr. Frank was saying Mass almost a week later at 7:00AM. Turning to offer a final benediction to the few worshipers, he started and almost fell to his knees in shock. His mentor, Father Confessor and Superior was sitting in a pew half way back in the church. He had not told Frank he was coming to Rome. Fr. Stevens sat quietly but his eyes never left Fr. Frank's face. He seemed troubled but remained seated while the other people crossed themselves and walked away up the short aisle. The two priests were alone in the Nave now. Fr Stevens rose and gesturing to Fr Frank, they both gave the deep profound bows of a priest ending a Mass. Then the older priest took Fr Frank's arm and they walked out into the early morning air. "Son, do you have something to tell me?" he asked Frank. Father Stevens had never been one to beat around the bush about anything, and Frank smiled, grimly. He knew this wouldn't be easy. "I do....yes" Frank answered, "but first I would like to know what brings you to Rome from New Orleans." "You." He replied. "I have been hearing some things that greatly disturbed me, and I came to see for myself." "Oh?" Frank nodded, puzzled. "I can't imagine what it could be, but let me take you to breakfast and we can talk." "Fine idea," Fr. Stevens grinned. "I always do better on a full stomach." After they had been seated at the small Bistro and served, Frank leveled his gaze on Fr. Stevens. "Okay, enough small talk, lets get to why you are here." Fr. Stevens took a deep breath and said, "Tell me about Rita. I think that is her name?" Frank blushed, one of the few times in his life he had, and thought wildly of how to protect her, himself and their relationship. Fr. Stevens smiled and shook his head. "No, Frank. No lies. Give me the truth so I can help you." He had known Fr. Frank since he was a young boy hiding beneath the pews in his Parish to get away from a gang war gone awry. He had protected him and taken him in. After Frank had finished the school year, Fr. Stevens had discreetly covered Frank's "wild oats" he'd sown among the girls and watched as he fought the calling to the priesthood. Eventually, he had been arrested, and Fr. Stevens let him spend a few nights in jail. When he went to see him, Frank was on his knees and through tears, told him that he was ready to answer the call. All of this had been years before, and Fr. Stevens had helped him get into Seminary. After 14 long years, Frank had taken his final vows, and Fr. Stevens had been there to ordain him. He had felt more like a proud father than a Bishop. Frank was more his child than his parent's child and Fr. Stevens had called him 'Son'. He had watched Frank grow from a terrified child into a fine, honorable man that sat before him as a Jesuit priest. Frank sighed. "What do you want to know about Rita?" There was no point in trying to lie. Fr. Stevens knew the facts. Now he wanted Frank's side of the story. "Son," Fr. Stevens spoke softly. "I want to know your feelings. Are you in love with her? I don't have to ask how far this has gone. I can read that on your face." Frank sat for a few minutes thinking as Fr. Stevens waited patiently. Was he 'in love' with Rita? Softly Frank spoke. "No, I can't say I'm in love with her, but I do care deeply for her." Fr. Stevens nodded. "Would you give up the priesthood for her?" "That's a good question," Frank smiled ruefully. "I know it looks like my vows are not important, but they are. Thankfully that choice has not come up." He looked up at Fr. Stevens and asked, "How did this come to your attention?" Before he could speak, Frank nodded. "Never mind. I know." Fr. Stevens nodded. "Fr. Vittalio saw you together. That in itself is no problem. He became concerned when he saw you kiss her and his concern led him to talk to me." Frank's face darkened with anger. "He had no right to go to you. He should have hauled my ass in and talked to me!" "He didn't want to get involved, Frank. He thought that I could handle it better and I agree. This way, maybe I can keep it from ruining your career." Frank leaned back and sighed. "Okay. So what happens? Retreat? Censure? I tell her I can no longer be with her? What do you want me to do?" "Walk with me," Fr. Stevens suggested, as the Bistro was beginning to fill with people and they were no longer alone. As they walked toward Frank's apartment, Fr. Stevens prayed silently for the strength to do what he had to do to save Frank from himself. At last, he spoke. "I want you to pack everything and return to New Orleans with me. I can help you there. Yes, it will be Retreat, but above that, you can think and pray and get your head back on straight." "No," he replied. "I can't leave. There is much to do here. I have..." Fr. Stevens interrupted him. "You can leave, and you will. There is no other way. You will not see her again. You will not contact her again. She is a part of your past. Leave her there. Come back to the States with me...to your calling. It's the only way." Frank asked for time to think and Fr. Stevens agreed to 24 hours. "I'm sorry, son," he said, as he stood at the door, leaving after they had talked all day and into the evening. "This is the only way." "I know," Frank sighed. "I wish there was some other way, but there isn't." He felt tired, frustrated and old beyond his years. After Fr. Stevens left, Frank lay across his bed thinking, and the tears came. It had been years since he had cried. When the dawn came, it found Frank at the Church on his knees in prayer. His tears were spent, and he prayed from his heart. "Father God, forgive me. I'll go back to the States to serve You, but I ask that You keep Rita in Your loving care. Help her to understand. This is not fair to her, but it's the only way she can be free of scandal." He rose and went to the small Office to call Fr. Stevens. "What time does the plane leave?" he asked when he answered. "Then you agree?" Fr Stevens asked. "Yes," Frank replied. "Everything is packed and ready." "I will send for your things," Fr Stevens said, "and the driver will take you to the airport. I will meet you there. I have arranged for a Priest to replace you at the Church until Fr. Bert returns from Retreat, so there is no problem with your leaving." "I understand," Frank replied. "I'll see you at the Airport." He hung the phone up and whispered softly, "I'm sorry, Rita. I'm so sorry." To be continued... Rita Remembers Ch. 03 Author's Note: My thanks to Ronnie Wachuka for his help and also for providing a male perspective. My thanks, also, to my friend Gloria. It might be helpful to read Chapters 1 and 2. There is no sex in this chapter, but just hang on for Chapter 4!!! * Rita pulled herself from her bed and groaned as she made her way to the bathroom, kneeling in front of the commode. Her stomach was rolling and she could feel the bile rise in her throat as she threw up for the third morning in a row. "Oh God," she shivered as she rinsed her mouth out and went back to lie down. "What in the world has made me so sick?" She truly didn't want it to be what she was thinking. She had been in Tuscany and Florence with her parents for a week to see the sights and the beautiful old art work, architecture and vineyards. They had thought it would be good for her to get away. She had always been such a cheery, loving young woman, but in the last few weeks she had become morose and disinterested in everything. She missed Frank. His face loomed up in her mind and she could see him. She could see his laughing eyes and that dark hair that she loved to run her fingers through. It made her still queasy stomach knot with desire as she remembered his soft sweet lips kissing her gently, becoming more demanding as he led her to heights of desire she had not known existed. She could hear in her heart his low sexy voice urging, "cum for me, Rita. Open your eyes sweetheart and cum for me. I want to see your pleasure." She nodded and whispered "Yes, oh yes," as tears slipped from her eyes and her fingers found her clit. She bit her lip and whimpered as she trembled through her orgasms. "Oh Frank," she cried softly, "What did I do that you left me? I don't understand." A knock on her bedroom door shook her from her thoughts and her mother came in. "Hurry darling, we must be ready to go as soon as your father...." Her mother looked quizzically at her daughter. "Rita, what's wrong? Are you sick, dear?" She sat up and swung her feet to the floor as she looked at her mother briefly before running to the bathroom to throw up again. As she finally was able to stand on wobbly legs, she leaned against the sink to wash her face. "Marie, are you and Rita ready?" her father called from the doorway. "Not quite," his wife replied. "Rita isn't feeling well. We may need to see the Doctor at the Embassy when we return." He walked to the bathroom door and looked at his daughter. She was white as a sheet and shaky. "Is it something you ate, pumpkin?" he asked. Rita sighed as she walked past him into the bedroom. "You might say that." Her mother was fussing with packing Rita's things and mumbling about what all they needed to do before going back to Rome. Rita didn't realize she had screamed at her mother until it was done. "Stop it! Nothing matters? Don't you see? Just get out and leave me alone!!!" She was sobbing as if her heart was breaking as her mother stared in shock. "RITA!!!" Before his wife could finish, Rita's father gently ushered her into the hall. "Go back to our room and I'll talk to her. She'll be fine in a few minutes. Finish packing and then we can check out." Rita sat on the bed, her hands covering her face, crying as he crossed the room to take her in his arms, sitting beside her. She laid her head on his shoulder and sobbed. "I'm sorry, Dad. I don't know why I did that." "It'll be all right. Your mother will get over it. She's just never seen you this upset. Shhh! Now, dry your tears and tell me about it." Rita sat up and wiped her eyes, smiling wanly as he handed her his handkerchief. "You always make me feel better, Daddy, but this problem you can't solve." "Oh, I don't know," he smiled. "Tell me, and we'll see." Rita dropped her head and new tears slid down her cheeks. "Is it a man?" he asked gently. She nodded. "Want to tell me about it?" he asked. "I can't," she choked out. "He...he left. I don't know where he is...and...." "Oh sweetheart, it will be ok. Just talk. I'll listen." The words tumbled from her through more tears and he held her close. "Dad, I think I'm pregnant." She sobbed. "I'm so sorry. I know I'm a big disappointment to you." He patted her back and held her on his shoulder so she couldn't see his tears. "You're not a disappointment to me, nor to your mother. We'll see the Doctor and make sure about this. It'll all work out." He was trying to be calm, but it was almost more than he could do. "Do you know who the father is?" She nodded. "Will you tell me?" He asked. "I can't," she whispered. He sat her up and looked into her eyes. "Rita, he needs to know and take responsibility for what he has done. He is..." Rita dropped her head. "He can't, Dad. He's a Priest." Her father sat, stunned. "A...a Priest?" he stammered. "But why...how...?" "Please don't tell mother. She will be so upset." She pleaded. "Please." He stood and began to pace the room. "Rita, I have to tell her, at least part of it, but I'll try to keep the Priest out of it. I'll just tell her you won't divulge the man's name. Now young lady, you finish packing and we'll talk more about things when we get back to Rome. That will be soon enough for your mother to know. Until then, this is our secret." Rita managed a small smile and hugged him. "Thank you, Daddy. I love you." "I love you too, pumpkin. Now, scoot. Get dressed and I'll make arrangements for you to see the Embassy doctor." "Yes, Miss Moore, you are definitely pregnant. I'd say 2 months or so," Dr Baker said. Rita was stunned. She had known there was the possibility of pregnancy, and now she was faced with the reality. She was in her prime childbearing years, so she shouldn't have been surprised. As she walked slowly back to her apartment, she couldn't help but feel like this child was a gift to her, not a burden. She sat later, still trying to absorb the fact that she was carrying a child. Decisions had to be made, and her first was that no one would ever know who the father was. She would raise her child, boy or girl, as a Catholic. That, she knew, would be what Frank would want, but she was determined that even Frank wouldn't know he had fathered a child. There was no point in causing him problems in his career and in his vocation. She cared too deeply for him to do that. In the weeks that followed, arrangements were made for her to go back to the States to live with her Dad's sister. It would work out much better for all concerned, and she would not have to live with the look of disappointment on her mother's face, nor hear the angry accusations as her parents argued. Her father tried to protect her, doing what he could to keep her out of the way of the scandal that surely would erupt as she progressed in her pregnancy. Her mother, though she loved Rita, was concerned with their social standing and how being grandparents of a child out of wedlock, especially a Priest's child, could ruin her husband's political career and his ambitions. Even though >>the late 30's were 'progressive' there were very real "limits" and a child out of wedlock was anathema. Rita quietly moved back to the States. She spent the next six months living with her Aunt Jeanne, who was a head nurse at a Catholic hospital in a small town just north of St. Louis, Missouri. Jeanne didn't know all the details but she was wise enough to figure things out and Rita eventually told her everything except who and 'what' the father was. She kept her secret even through the months of waiting as the country approached war. Early in 1941, things were getting so hostile in Italy that her parents were transferred home and based in Washington, D. C. Her mother and father made one trip to St. Louis but Rita could barely stand her mother's reproaches and the trip didn't really smooth things over between them. Six months later, in the Catholic hospital in St. Louis where her Aunt was Head Nurse in Labor and Delivery, Rita gave birth to a girl, 7 pounds 8 ounces and 22 inches long. As she looked into her daughter's face, watching her yawn and snuggle against her breast, she could see how much she looked like her father. She would most likely be tall, as he was. Frances Anne had his features and her hair was dark like his. Rita smiled. "Is there any part of me you have?" she murmured. At that, Frankie as she would be called, opened her little bow of a mouth and let out a piercing cry. "Oh yes," Rita chuckled, placing her nipple in her mouth as she latched on and sucked. "You, my sweet girl, have your mother's temper." World War II had broken out and while Rita was giving birth, Frank was on a ship serving as Chaplain. He had joined the Navy and served throughout the War. It had been a challenge for him and he had seen and heard things he would never speak of to anyone. He celebrated Mass on Sunday on several ships. Some were destroyers, some carriers, some supply ships, but they all had one thing in common...men that needed and wanted to talk with him. At the end of the War, he was approached to join The Company. His work among the enlisted men and the Officers was well known, and his other abilities in a crisis situation had been forwarded to the powers that be. The Company was anxious to recruit him. In time, he joined, and his cover was that of a Jesuit priest. His vocation worked well for him. He was assigned to St. Mary's Church in Stamford, Connecticut. As Frankie grew in the next few years, Rita met and married an Air Force pilot. Captain Mike Thompson was ruggedly handsome as well as witty and Rita found herself falling for the pilot. They had met at the hospital where Mike had come for some tests, and she was working as a Red Cross Volunteer. They were married March 3, 1950, and their son was born a year later. Mike had adopted Frankie as his own child. They had accepted her parents wedding gift of the old home she had grown up in on Long Island. It was important to her that the family have stability with Mike being gone for months at a time and the Korean Conflict loomed like a cloud on their future. He was assured that his family was safe, and he was able to focus on his military duties. It was now June of 1953 and Rita stood beside her husband's grave, her children at her side, as she barely heard the playing of Taps and then the mournful wail of the piper as he played Amazing Grace and walked away until the sound was faint and then no more. She raised red, puffy eyes to the man in uniform that laid the flag in her hands and heard his voice crack as he saluted. Her look was one of confusion, almost as if, is this all that's left? What do I do now? The old Priest wrapped her in his arms and whispered, "God go with you and your children," and then she was led, numbly, to the car. She laid her head back on the soft leather of the seat and sighed. This part of her life was over. At home, she walked into the library to get away from the groups of people that wanted to console her. She wanted to be alone. Mike was gone, she would raise her children alone. She didn't want to be rude, and she wouldn't be; but she needed to be alone, at least for a few minutes. The mail was on his desk and she picked it up, thumbing through it. One letter caught her eye and she opened it. It was from the U.S. Conference of Bishops based in Washington, D.C. inviting them to a reception for the new United States Bishops. Her hands shook as she read the names. Frank's name was there. "You've done well for yourself, my darling," she whispered as she sat reading the invitation over again. Her fingers softly touched his name on the paper as if touching him. RSVP? Yes, she decided, she would go. She didn't want to be in the line meeting him, but she wanted to see Frank. She wanted to bring closure to that part of her life; to the wondering, and she could stay on the fringe of the crowd and see him. Yes, she would go. Rita stood at the entrance to the Mayflower Hotel two months later and took a deep breath, smoothing her salt and pepper hair in its tight chignon. Her black dress fit gracefully over her soft curves. Having two children had only enhanced her figure. She had the classic elegance and beauty of a mature woman now, but anyone guessing her age would have been wrong. It had been a long two months since Mike's death and she had fought with her impulsive decision to come to Washington, but deep inside herself, she knew she had to see Frank. She just wanted to see him one more time and that would be enough. She wouldn't go near him, just to see him across the room would be enough. She grinned softly, thinking, I just want to see if Frankie really does look like her Daddy. She was ushered into the ballroom that had been decorated with flowers and finger foods for the Reception and cocktails. Soon she began to relax as she mingled among the dignitaries and acquaintances she had known for many years when her father traveled back and forth between Rome and Washington. She sipped champagne as she chatted easily with old friends and caught up on news and even some gossip. As she excused herself and started up the marble steps to the ladies room, she heard a deep, masculine voice speak softly. "We've met like this before, haven't we?" "Frank," she breathed softly as she stopped mid step. "Oh my God, Frank." Rita turned to look into the eyes of the man she had known so well so many years before. He hadn't changed, well, not that much. He was older, more distinguished looking. She fleetingly remembered something she had heard as a young woman...men grow better looking with age, women just age. How true, she thought, at least for THIS man. Her eyes traveled over the now salt and pepper hair, to the tanned face, lined with experience, to the black suit and collar that were so familiar to her. His physique was still well toned and her gut knotted with desire as in years before. She stood still, unable to move until he walked up the steps and took her hand in his. "Its so good to see you again," he said a bit louder and inquired about her parents. She realized this was for the benefit of people standing close by. She took his cue and told him about their work in Rome, and now in Washington. As people wandered away, Frank spoke softly. "Rita, we need to talk. I've much to make up to you; explain to you." "Frank, I...I..." she stammered. As much as she wanted to be with him again, even for a little while, she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear his explanation. She knew the truth. He had left her in Rome. No letter, no call. He had just left. She had carried his child and given life to her. He had never known, nor would he. "Please," he begged softly, "please give me just a few minutes. I know I hurt you badly, but there were extenuating circumstances. Let me try to explain." Rita sighed as she looked into his eyes and could see the pain. "Okay, but not here. I'll meet you somewhere." Frank breathed a sigh of relief and said, "There's a tea room a couple of blocks from here. Is that ok? Its very quiet and private." She nodded. "I'll find it. I'll be there in an hour." "Thanks," he whispered. "I owe you." He turned to rejoin the conversation among the Priests, yet looking over their heads to her. "You sure do," Rita murmured. "You owe me big time, but you owe your daughter more. Its too bad you will never know her." In an hour, Rita was seated in the Russian Tea Room sipping tea and waiting impatiently for Frank. He had still been talking with friends when she left, but he had slipped her a message that he would be along shortly. In minutes she spotted him working his way to her table. He ordered coffee and gently squeezed her hand before letting it go. "I'm glad you agreed to meet. I've thought about you so many times over the years." His eyes rested on her wedding rings. "You married," he said dully. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. "Yes," she said, looking down at her hand as her eyes filled with tears. "He died two months ago." Surprised at herself, she wondered why she had revealed that. It wasn't something important to Frank, only to her. "I'm sorry," he replied softly. "You must have loved him very much." "Yes, I did," she replied, and then straightened and squared her shoulders. "Mike has nothing to do with us though. What did you want to explain?" She sat listening, at first in anger, and then in sadness, to what Frank told her. It was appalling to know all the things that had happened to him. "There really was a letter, then?" she queried, softly. "I never got it." "I gave it to Father Vittorio to take to the Embassy. I didn't have time to take it, but I wish now I had taken the time. At least you would have known what was going on." Frank's eyes showed the remorse he felt. "I wrote to you," Rita said softly. "I wanted you to know about Mike, but none of that matters now. I have two children to raise, and our lives can never be the same." "Rita, I want to see you..." She shook her head. "It won't work, Frank. There are too many years between us. It will be better for both of us this way. You have done well for yourself, my darling. I will always love you, but we can't take chances on more, especially with your rank in the Church now." "I'll think of something," he said desperately as she rose to go. Rita looked down into Frank's eyes and smiled wanly. "I love you, Frank. I will always carry a part of you in my heart. Good-bye." She was gone and Frank sat dejectedly, staring into his coffee. "I have to find her again. It can't end this way. I won't let it," he muttered. "Want some more coffee, Father?" the waitress asked, and he looked up. "No thanks," he replied as he pulled some bills from his pocket. "Will you pay this for me? I really have to find someone." "Sure," she answered, winking. "She went out the side door." Three days later, he sat in his Office in Stamford, staring at the phone. He picked it up and dialed a private number. In less than two hours, he received a call giving him all the information he had requested. He looked at the name, the address in New York, her phone number, and her personal and family history. He read and reread it, mulling over the decision he had to make. In less than a month, he made a "business trip" to New York. After meeting with the Archbishop, he made a side trip to Long Island. As he stepped from the car and walked up the steps to the door, he could feel his stomach knot. He rang the doorbell and waited. To be continued... Rita Remembers Ch. 04 Author's Note: My warmest thanks to Ronnie Wachuka for his help and lending a male perspective to this entire story. My thanks also to my friend Gloria. In this chapter, there are things that are not viewed as priestly demeanor. I do not apologize for these, but rather say that friends of mine that are Priests have told me that chastity, poverty and obedience are sometimes ignored as the challenges and temptations of life abound. These men are vulnerable in that they are human. They have the same wants, needs and desires that we all have. The difference lies in their strong commitment to the Church and to their vows. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Frank stood on the porch of the stately old house and looked over the immaculate yard, flowering shrubs, and gardens. He turned as the door was opened and the maid asked, "May I help you, Father?" He smiled down into the face of the woman and fleetingly thought of Mammy in Gone With the Wind. She was short, almost as broad as she was long, and he could envision a take-charge attitude, but with a keen sense of humor. He could see it in the laugh lines around her dark eyes. "Yes, please," he said. "I'm Fr. O'Conner, and I would like to see Mrs. Thompson if she is available." She motioned him in and closing the door, pointed to the room across from the foyer. "You can please wait in there, Father. I'll tell Mrs. Thompson you're here." The room was sunny and bright with flowers and antiques. The furniture was quality, yet comfortable. Frank thought to himself, yes, this room looks like Rita; classic elegance, yet comfortable. He stood and looked at the picture above the fireplace. A lovely couple on their wedding day. She was in her wedding gown, he in his Air Force dress uniform. Her large bridal bouquet lay on an antique table next to a candle. He was holding her daughter in his arms and anyone could see the love and happiness on Rita's face. It tugged at his heart and he shook his head sadly. Then he looked at the photo more closely – especially at the small girl held in the man's arms. Could it be true? The cold facts over the telephone had only told him when the baby had been born. The dates were burned in his mind. "Frank," Rita said softly as she walked into the room. "This is such a surprise." "Is it?" he asked, turning to face her. "I told you I wanted to see you." Rita was dressed in black as befit her mourning. Frank took in the black dress that covered her demurely, yet hinted of what was underneath. She sat primly on the sofa as Frank took the chair opposite her. "How did you find me? I didn't tell you where I live or reveal any way for you to find me." "I have sources," he replied. "I had to see you." The maid appeared and Rita asked her to bring coffee and scones for them and then leave them alone. They chatted about her parents and the Church until the coffee was poured and the French doors were closed. Frank looked up at the picture again. "Your wedding portrait is beautiful. Who is the child?" Rita's hand shook as she set her coffee cup down. "That's my daughter." She didn't elaborate, or even mention her name, but Frank knew. Suddenly the doors flew open and her children both spoke at once. "Mother, is it okay to invite friends this afternoon to swim for a while? We may go play tennis though if its not." Rita smiled and looked at her watch. "Of course its all right. Just make sure its ok with their parents. Oh, and children, next time please mind your manners. I have a guest and we were talking. You both know better." "Yes, ma'am," they both replied. "We're sorry." "Now," said Rita, turning them to Frank, "this is my daughter Frances Anne and my son, Michael. Children, this is Father O'Conner. He is a friend that I knew years ago in Rome when I lived there with my parents." "Its nice to meet you, sir," they both said and made a hasty exit. "Teens!!" Rita chuckled. "No wonder I have gray hair." Frank eyed Rita carefully. He hoped he wasn't wrong, and if he were, he would apologize profusely. He had seen her hand shake when he mentioned the portrait, and he knew, deep down after seeing the child up close, he was right. He settled deeper into the chair and spoke softly. "Tell me about my daughter, Rita." Rita looked deeply into his eyes. She couldn't lie to him – not Frank. "We made love several times without precautions, and one of those times we created our daughter. I found out that I was pregnant when I came back from Florence. But you were gone. No call. No letter. Nothing. I had no other choice but to have our baby. Daddy helped me get back to the United States and I stayed with his only sister in St. Louis. He could see the tears brimming in her eyes and knew how hard this was for her, but at this moment he didn't give a damn. He was angry that she had kept his daughter from him. I had our daughter all alone except for Aunt Jeanne. I stayed in St. Louis because the war was beginning and Washington, D. C was not a place for a young woman with a baby. During the war I did a lot of volunteering with the USO and the Red Cross. Aunt Jeanne would watch Frankie and I got out of the house for a few hours. Toward the end of the war I met Mike. He was a liaison with the Army Air Corps based in St. Louis. He stayed with the new Air Force when it was formed. We were married shortly after WWII ended. But then the Korean War started and as a Lieutenant Colonel, he headed up a squadron. He was killed in a raid about two months before I saw you at that reception. It was just over three months ago and I mourn him deeply. He was gone for almost two years except for a few days leave here and there and the ten days leave when I got to fly to Hawaii and we had almost a second honeymoon. But you want to know about Frankie. What can I say? She looks so much like you, Frank, and she is so smart. The top of her class and just like you, she has an ear for languages. She loves science and math too. I think she will probably go to one of the top colleges –maybe even to Harvard like my father or to Yale like Grandfather Russell. But she has my temper and there are times when she can be a real handful." Rita dabbed at her eyes with a napkin and gave Frank a shaky smile. "She has your physical attributes Frank, but she has more of you." "Oh?" he questioned. "Tell me." "She has your personality in a lot of ways, and she is patient, kind and compassionate. She loves people and wants to go into some sort of public service after college. She has talked of becoming a nun, but I hope she will change her mind. I would love to have grandchildren before I'm too old to enjoy them." Frank nodded. "I see." He sat contemplating all she had told him, and on the surface he appeared calm. If she could have seen below, she would have known the depth of the anger and pain he felt. "I don't understand one thing you told me, Rita. You said you had no choice in having Frankie. Why?" Rita looked up at him in surprise. "I didn't have a choice, Frank. You know the Church's stand on abortion." "Bullshit." He stormed. "That's a damned cop out, Rita. Abortions are done every day and the Church doesn't know about it unless the person feels remorse enough to confess it. Then we get involved. Don't hand me bullshit, Rita. Give me truth. Give me facts. Don't lie." His face had darkened and he trembled slightly with rage. "All right, Frank," she cried as she rose and walked to the window, looking out. "I'll tell you, dammit. I couldn't have an abortion because I wanted her. I wanted your baby, Frank. She was the only part of you I had left." Rita turned to face him, tears streaming down her face as she choked out, "Don't you understand, Frank? I loved you then. I love you now. Frankie is the only part of you I would ever have, and I'll be damned if I was going to give her up. She is part of you!" He rose, forgetting his anger, and went to her, wrapping her in his arms; pulling her tight against him as she sobbed. "I've loved you for so long, Frank. I don't know what its like to not love you. I loved you when I was married to Mike. He was a good husband and father, but he wasn't you. I loved him, but it wasn't the same." Her arms inched around his waist and she clung to him as his arms held her tightly. "Oh, dear God, Rita." He cried into her hair. "I never knew. I loved you; I still do, but I wasn't sure how you felt. I've hurt you so badly. I'm so sorry." They held each other tightly and sobbed together. In time he raised her tear streaked face to his and kissed her gently. "We have a beautiful daughter, Rita. Let's celebrate her and let our past failings go. I won't try to take Mike's place in her life, but I can promise to be there for her and for you from now on." He released her and she groaned softly. "I don't want to be out of your arms," she whispered. Frank chuckled and kissed her gently. "I don't want you out of my arms either, but if you're a good girl and go wash your face, I'll take you to dinner. I'm starved." "I am too," she giggled. As she opened the French doors she turned to him. "Don't go away. I'll be right back." He grinned. "I'll be right here." "I mean it, Frank. Don't you dare pull a disappearing act again, like you did in Rome." She grinned mischievously, and he laughed. "I won't. I promise. Now, scoot." He popped her on her bottom and she squealed softly. "You'll get paid back for that," she laughed, shaking her finger at him. "I can hardly wait," he whispered as he pulled her against him and she felt his erection. "Ohhh," she whispered. "You really make it difficult to leave you even for a bathroom break." "Go, woman." He said gruffly. "Time's a wastin!" As he watched her hurry up the stairs, he adjusted his turgid cock. "Oh yeah, Rita my love, I still want you." ~~~~~~~~ Rita and Frank sat in the back of the dimly lit restaurant drinking coffee laced with Irish whiskey. They had dined on fresh oysters, Maine lobster, and salad. Now they sat holding hands across the table. "I want you, Rita," he said simply. "Don't make me take you home. We have this time together and we can't waste even a moment." She smiled softly. "Take me to your hotel then. I want you too. I'm not going home tonight. Mamie is there with the children so they will be fine." Frank quickly signaled for the check and leaving a generous tip, they left the restaurant; fortunately they were within walking distance of the hotel. They kept on talking as they walked quickly. Rita was not truly nervous but her heart was filled and they held hands as they walked along the downtown New York City streets. The pulse beat of the vibrant city was reflected in both of them. As they approached Frank's hotel, he hoped he could wait these last few minutes...he felt he was going to explode. Arriving at his fashionable hotel, they used the side entrance and were soon in Bishop O'Conner's suite. Rita was impressed in spite of her own background, the living room had a large davenport and matching loveseat and several comfortable upholstered chairs. The large French doors led onto a small balcony above the city's lights. Turning around, Rita looked at Frank with her eyes telling him of her passion. With a deep sigh, he kissed her deeply and then swung her into his arms, just as he had done over 15 years earlier. "Are you surprised? I do work out and you can't weigh much more than you did when we were in Rome". He kissed her lips and then nibbled hungrily down to her ears and neck. He picked her up, walked into the bedroom and laid her down on the satin bedspread of the king-sized bed. He paused then and slipped his suit coat off. "Wait, Frank, let me please?" Rita sat up and slipped her fingers into the collar at the top of the clerical shirt he was wearing. Very carefully she slipped it out and then flung it over onto the bureau. "I have always liked you better without the damned collar!" He chuckled as she began to work on the small buttons closing his shirt – tickling and tugging on his chest hairs, she finished quickly and reached down to unfasten his cuff links from his right and left wrists. She smiled mischievously saying "Do you remember that time we were in such a hurry that we ripped off almost all of your buttons from one of your few sports shirts? My darling Frank, how things have changed!" she giggled as she slid the shirt off of him and tossed it onto the chair. "I'll teach you to tease me." he laughed, grabbing her wrists. He pulled her to her feet and unzipped the black silk dress. Soon it was puddled at her feet. Frank bent over and began kissing her soft shoulders. His other hand unhooked her bra and soon it was next to the dress surrounding her ankles and shoes. Frank slipped his hands into the top of her panties and kneeling slowly pulled them down over her hips and then past her knees. "Grab my shoulders," he said. Lifting each foot in turn, he slipped her shoes off and then the panties. Rising in one swift motion which spoke of long decades of practice, he picked her up again and laid her softly onto the pillows. Standing in front of her next to the bed, he unzipped his black pants and with one motion dropped his briefs and pants and tossed them onto the chair too. Lying down next to Rita he gathered her into his arms. She snuggled against his chest, placing feathery kisses until he raised her mouth to his and claimed it with a hunger that made her head spin. Her stomach knotted with desire and she could only focus on his tongue and his hands roaming with no hesitation over her body as if the years they had been apart had never happened. His fingers found her wet warmth and he smiled as she gasped in pleasure, moaning softly. Her body was a wellspring of passion and she writhed under his hand, seeking more. "Don't tease me," she begged. "Make me cum." She could feel his hard penis between them, slick with his precum. She held it tightly as she slid it slowly back and forth in her hand. Frank groaned as it throbbed and he moved to set her legs over his shoulders. Her eyes were tightly closed and her mouth formed an O as she moaned her passion. He pressed forward and slid deeply into her pussy as she raised her hips to take him in. In seconds their rhythm was set and they rode the crest together until he growled deep in his throat, "Cum Rita. Cum for me. I can't hold off any longer." She felt the mushroom head of his cock swell and it sent her spiraling over the edge into spasms that milked him, drawing out every drop of semen he had to give. She screamed his name as he came hard, grunting and groaning until there was no more and he slid out coated with their mixture. Frank dripped sweat onto her chest as he rose to kiss her gently. "I love you, Rita," he whispered. "God help me, but I do." "I love you, too," she smiled, looking into his eyes as she combed her fingers through his hair. "I don't know what we will do, but somehow this will work out." He nodded as he lay down beside her catching his breath. "We'll work it out." Rita rolled to her side and gently stroked his chest with her fingers. "It was as if we've always been together, Frank, at least for me." He chuckled and pulled her closer. "I know. It was like yesterday. All the years of being apart don't exist. We've taken up where we left off." "Yes," she giggled as she slipped out of bed to go clean up, "and we still don't remember to use the condoms." Frank lay with his eyes half closed, chuckling. "They're in the right hand pocket of my pants." Rita laughed and picked up a soft pillow, throwing it at him. "A lot of good they're going to do there!" She made a run for the bathroom as he caught it and threw it back at her. "You better run, lady," he called after her as she giggled and shut the door. Laughing, he sat up and swung his feet to the floor and put his briefs on before heading to the living room to fix them something to drink. Frank heard the bathroom door open and called to Rita, "What would you like to drink, sweetheart? They have white wine, vodka, gin, brandy, rum and scotch. They have pop and ginger ale stocked, too." "Surprise me," she said grabbing his black shirt off the chair, putting it on. Her hair was a bit wet from the shower and hung in curls around her shoulders. She wandered barefooted into the living room and stood for a moment taking in the tall man fixing drinks at the wet bar. Frank looked up at her and whistled softly. "My shirt looks better on you than it does on me." He held out a glass of white wine to her and she took it as she ran her fingers lightly over his hand. "Thank you," she whispered, taking a sip. "This is very good." Together they walked onto the balcony and stood looking over the lights of the city. He stood behind her, his brandy in one hand, his other arm encircled her waist and pulled her back against him. Rita smiled softly. "New York is so beautiful at night." "Almost as beautiful as you," he whispered, kissing the side of her neck gently. "I'll never look at a New York night now without thinking of you." "How long do we have, Frank?" she asked quietly. "I hadn't planned on being here too long," he answered and felt her body stiffen against him. "Only a couple of days." He felt a tear on his hand, and turned her to face him, brushing the wetness from her face. "I'll string it out for a few more days, then I have to get back to Stamford. There are things I have to take care of there." "I understand," she whispered. "I'm so selfish where you're concerned. After more than 15 years we're together again, and once more you're going to leave." "I know," he said softly, kissing the top of her head as he held her close. "It isn't fair to either of us, but it can't be helped. I have my duties and you have your family. Your kids need you especially at this time." He tilted her face to his. "But at least this time you know where I'll be. I'm not disappearing without a trace." Her arms went around his neck as she played in the soft hair there. "Make love to me, Frank. I want to memorize your touch. I want to feel you with me when you're gone." She pressed her hips forward and softly swayed against him. She felt his penis harden. He could see her eyes shining in the dim light and he wasn't sure if it was passion or reflection. His lips descended to hers as he ran his tongue slowly over her mouth and then just lightly around the inside of her mouth as she opened to him. She tasted of the wine and soon Rita felt as much as tasted the heady spiciness of good brandy. Swaying together they almost danced on the small balcony, Rita's arms holding Frank as if by her strength alone she could keep them together. He held her close and rested his head on top of hers. "Frank...if I asked a favor of you would you grant it?" "Ask me anything...well almost anything...and I'll do it. "Do you still travel with a fountain syringe? "I have it with me, yes," he answered. "Why?" "I always do," she answered. "It seems either stress or strange food and water cause my whole system to get out of sorts." She was half turned away from Frank and he turned her around so that her curvy fanny was grinding into his steel hard cock. "Do you want to borrow it? Is that what you want, Rita? Would you like me to fill it full of baking soda and salt and wash you so clean that we both hear you squeak when I slide my cock in your very tight tail. Do you want anal?" He grinned mischievously as she lowered her head. She nodded, blushing slightly. "Yes," she admitted, "that's exactly what I want. Mike would never do it. He thought it was dirty and he would never consent to making love that way. He said only sluts would do that, and I was his wife; not a slut. Frank couldn't help a low chuckle. "He didn't know what he missed. He just might have had more woman than he realized if he'd done it and done it right. I remember Rome too and I remember how erotic, sexy, and wonderful making love to you anally was. You're the ONLY woman I have ever had that way...and we can share that special joy again. Come with me, sweetheart. I promise you the most erotic enemas you have enjoyed since our time in Rome!" Rita Remembers Ch. 04 Rita woke with a start, and then remembered where she was. He yawned and kissed her forehead. "Good morning love," he whispered as she sought his mouth. Their tongues met with a soft duel and she giggled. "What's that about?" he asked, pulling her closer to his stiffening cock. "We must be getting old," Rita replied. "We do two enemas and then fall asleep before we finish foreplay." Frank rolled to his back and yawned, laughing. "YOU, my dear, went to sleep. Never would I do such a thing to you!" "Me?" she giggled. "I came out of the bathroom and you, my love, were snoring. I'll bet if you look, there's a cord of wood in the corner!" He raised up to peek over her shoulder. "Nope," he chuckled, kissing her, "only half a cord." He got to his feet and headed for the bathroom, stroking his penis. "Are you really going to waste that beautiful hardon?" she asked, giving him a pout when he turned to look at her. "It'll come back up," he grinned. "I'm sure you'll see to that." "You can bet on it," she whispered as he raised the seat. "Now," he laughed as he strode back into the bedroom and made a dive into the bed beside her, "What was it you muttered about me when I went to pee?" He grabbed her and pinned her under him. He knew all of Rita's buttons, and he gently tickled her, just enough to begin to arouse her. "Stop," she giggled, twisting in his arms. The problem was, the more she twisted, the hotter she got. "I didn't say anything bad," she laughed. "I promise, it wasn't bad." "Then what did you say?" he chuckled as his fingers stopped tickling and began to gently touch places that made her gasp with pleasure. Their light banter was suddenly forgotten. Her arms went around him to pull him closer and she moaned softly. "I want you, Frank. I need to feel you." He shook his head. "No, not yet." He could feel her fingers searching for his hard cock and he moved slightly to allow her to grasp it. "See? I told you it'd come back up." She nodded as she scrambled out of his arms and down to take him into her mouth. "Ummm," he groaned, guiding her head. "That's the way, baby. Suck it. God, that feels good." Rita spent long minutes working over his cock until he could stand it no longer. She lay with her pussy at just the right angle for his hand and fingers as he worked on her, feeling her juices flow until he could easily get three fingers inside her. It was only then that he acknowledged the back and forth rhythm of her hips and used her own lube to rim her ass. "Ummm," she whispered. "I want you in there. Please..." He slid his tongue into her pussy as she bucked against his mouth. He growled deep in his throat and swatted her butt, hard. "Stop!" Rita whimpered, but stayed as still as she could, until he rocked her hips with his hand. "Move up and turn over," he whispered as he kissed her twat gently. Her anus was so dilated he could have gone in with no lube, but he grabbed the lotion and slathered his cock. When she was turned, he shoved a pillow under her ass and pushed her knees back to her breasts. "Oh God, Rita," Frank groaned. "I had almost forgotten how truly beautiful you are." His granite hard penis stood poised at her anus, but he went into her pussy first. He had to feel that heat too. After a few strokes, he pulled out and pressed against her anus until he felt the sphincters give way and allow him entrance. Rita squealed and bit her lip, taking a deep breath. God it hurt! Even with all the play and fingering Frank had done, it still hurt, but he was not small either. She could feel the sweat fall from him and he panted, "Its up to you now, baby. Relax and you pull me in. Damn woman, you're so fucking tight!" She nodded, and closed her eyes as she felt him contract inside her. She knew he was doing everything he could to keep from ramming her. In a few seconds he felt her relax and he could give her another couple of inches. Soon it felt like she opened up and he was in deep, so deep his balls were slapping against her butt with each stroke. Frank groaned with pleasure as he felt his cock swell and the semen rush through his shaft. Rita panted and whimpered knowing that she was going to cum. She felt the knot deep in her belly and knew that just a stroke or two more and she would be over the edge into that abyss of ecstasy. "Here it is," he breathed raggedly as he unloaded deep inside her rectum. Rita held him tight, clamped down and felt the milking contractions. "Oh God," she whimpered. "Yes, oh yessssss. Give it all to me." He drove deep and came with a loud groan until he was milked dry by her. He rolled to his side and pulled her with him, panting. "God, woman. You make me crazy. Making love with you is such a high." "I feel the same way," Rita smiled, kissing him. "You take me places I've never been. I love it." "Ummm," Frank nodded, caressing her as he closed his eyes. Sleep, just for a few minutes he thought. I have to take her home, but I want to put it off for a while. As he drove her home later that night, Rita was quiet, almost pensive. "Are you ok?" He asked squeezing her hand as he kissed her fingers. "Yes," she replied with a half smile, "just a bit sad." "Oh? Having regrets? Second thoughts?" he asked. Rita leaned to kiss his fingers. "No, no regrets, no second thoughts, just sad that its going to be such a long time between the times that we can be together." "I'll work something out," he assured her. "Now that I've found you again, I don't intend to let you go. " Rita woke the next morning in her own bed, alone, and wondered if it had all been a dream. She felt the damp stickiness between her legs and smiled. No, it hadn't been a dream, and Frank had left so much of his calling card, that she really needed to shower, badly. She called to Mamie for coffee and juice, which was waiting on a tray when she came out of the bathroom. She sipped at the coffee as she stood looking out into the early dawn, wrapped only in a towel. "Oh Frank, how I love you." She whispered. Turning she picked up the phone and after looking up the number, called the Hotel. Frank groped for the alarm clock, but the insistent ringing wouldn't stop. He opened one eye and yawned, picking up the receiver. "Fr. O'Conner" he said, his voice muffled by sleep. "Good morning, sleepyhead," Rita giggled. "Good morning to you! Aren't you cheery this morning?" his voice was a rather deep growl, but his words lit her heart like sunshine. "Are you O.K.? Was everything all right at home?" "Everything was fine. I doubt the children even knew I was gone." "That's good," he replied. "I have an idea," she went on. "Dad is coming to get the kids for the weekend and Mamie has the weekend off. Would you like a home cooked meal tonight?" Frank grinned. "That sounds wonderful to me. A home cooked meal and then time alone with the cook. Can't beat that." "Great," she breathed softly. "I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon, but I should be back by 4 and he's picking them up at 5. After that, I'll be here alone." "I'll see you around 7 then," he said. "Will that give you time?" "Plenty," she said, and he could hear the happiness in her voice. I'll talk to you then." "Okay," he said, "I'll see you tonight. I love you." I love you, too," she replied. "Have a great day, my love." "Bye," he said hanging up. Rita dressed quickly and went to eat breakfast with her children. She spent a few hours working on mail and committee business. By then, it was time to go see Dr. Winters. His specialty was Internal Medicine. He had treated her mother and father and they had introduced her to him in the late 1940's. In effect, he was her family doctor. They were good friends and he was Dr, Joe to her and her kids. This was a follow-up visit as two weeks previously she had had her first appointment. The tests were completed and now she needed to hear the results. Dr. Winters' nurse ushered her in quickly and did the routine vital signs. Dr. Joe came in just as she was leaving. He had know Rita for almost ten years – and they were comfortable with each other. But he didn't look comfortable now...he was solemn and visibly upset. "Rita, you and I need to go over your tests. There seems to be a problem and I want you to see some specialists. I am going to get you a referral to the Mayo Clinic. They are the best." "But Dr Joe, what's the matter with me? What's wrong?" He gave a deep sigh and said, "Rita I am afraid that all of your tests have come back positive for pancreatic cancer. It is an aggressive cancer and it is generally inoperable. But Mayo Clinic is working on this type of cancer and they are the experts in its treatment now. I want you to get someone to go with you and for you to go there next week. Just as soon as I can get you the appointment and mail them all your test results." Rita was stunned and deeply shaken but she called on her inner strength and she didn't cry or pass-out. Dr Joe had given her some extra-strength vitamins and told her that she was to get at least eight hours or more of sleep each night. He told her that she might have to repeat some of the tests at Rochester before her Clinic appointment so she must have someone with her...perhaps her Mother? Rita knew that right now she was not her mother's top priority as she was preparing to go to Belgium as the wife of the new Ambassador. Her Mom and Dad had been told the news secretly, and it was to be announced at the end of the week. They were to be in Brussels by the end of next month. Rita would not upset them with her news; not now in her Dad's hour of triumph. She was able to drive home, help her kids with the usual final chaos of going to "Grandpa and Grandma's" for a long weekend and then say goodbye to Mamie. When she was finally alone she collapsed. She had left the front door unlocked so that Frank could come in and a little before 7:00PM he arrived. Rita was huddled on the couch in the living room –sobbing as if her heart would break. She couldn't stop crying long enough to tell Frank what was wrong. He got her some brandy and held her while she sipped it. "Rita, sweetheart, tell me what's going on? What's happened?" "Frank just when we've found each other –I'm going to lose you. I'm dying of pancreatic cancer." Frank held her as he tried to keep his voice even and calm. He needed to get all the facts and get them quickly. "Rita, take a slow deep breath. Who's your doctor and what'd he say? What type of tests has he done and why does he want you to go to Rochester? Aren't there specialists here in New York or up in Boston?" My doctor told me this afternoon. I'm so afraid and confused. What will I tell the children or my parents? I can't even think straight," as she sank into his arms sobbing again. It was decided between Frank and Rita that they wouldn't say anything about the Cancer until they knew what her prognosis was. She was convinced she was dying, Frank just wanted to know what the facts were while he was doing his best to be her rock in all of this. The following week Rita and Frank caught the early flight from New York to St. Paul. That afternoon they checked in to the hotel across the street from the Mayo Clinic. Rita registered and was given a packet of instructions. She would face a battery of tests tomorrow and the next day. She would need to be "prepared" for these tests. Frank gave her the enemas required, and then made slow, gentle love to her as he held her in his arms. She lay on her side, curled against him as he kissed her neck and fingered her pussy until she was pushing back to take him. He removed his fingers and slid his erection deep into her with one stroke. He rocked gently until he could stand the slow rhythm no longer, and changed to a faster tempo. Rita groaned with pleasure and in minutes, Frank was ready to cum. They drifted off to sleep, clinging to each other. The next day, they woke early, had breakfast and went to the Mayo Clinic. In time, they were given the news that with treatment, care and a great deal of luck, she might live 5 years, but it wasn't a guarantee. Rita consented to treatment, but at a hospital in New York. She didn't want to be that far away from her family, including Frank. As time went by, she told her children and Mamie of her illness and swore them to secrecy. She didn't see her parents until they made a surprise trip home for Christmas and her Mother, seeing the strain on Rita's face, made her tell her what was going on with her. Marie cried as Rita sat still and straight. She had learned to keep her composure through most things since Mike's death, and this was the way she chose to deal with her illness. "Mother, when you're through crying," Rita said, "then we can discuss some things. I really need Daddy here too. I don't want to have to go through this twice." Her mother nodded as she dried her tears. "Of course, dear. He's out in the yard, with the children. I'll call him in." While her Mother was getting him, Rita called Frank. The Bishop's secretary put her call through. "Rita, are you all right?" Frank asked, concerned because she rarely called him. "I'm fine," she said. "Could you come for dinner this Friday? I want you to meet Mom and Dad and of course, Frankie and Michael will be here. I just want all of us together. I'm telling Mom and Dad about the Cancer today. I think they need to know before they go back to Brussels." "I'm very proud of you, sweetheart," he said softly. "I'll be there." "Around 6?" she asked. "I want some time with you before Mom descends on me." Frank laughed. "6 it is, although as badly as I want you, it may be before." "That would be even better," Rita laughed softly. "I'll try to keep the kids out of the house and busy until time for dinner." "Good idea." He laughed. "I'll see you then." Rita hung up as her Dad walked into the house. "Now, what's so damned important I have to come inside when I was having such fun with my grandchildren?" As Rita sat at the kitchen table telling them about the Cancer, her Dad's face went white as a sheet. "You're sure about all of this?" he asked. "Dr. Winters has made certain of his diagnosis?" Rita nodded. "There's no mistake, Dad." Rita's mother sat crying softly as her husband put his arm around her shoulder and patted her. He held onto his composure by a thread, asking tightly, "What do you want us to do, Rita? What can we do to help you?" "I want you and Mom to become guardians of the children until they are 21," she said. "I want then to have every opportunity for a college education and a start to a good life. If you bungle raising your kids, then nothing else you have done in your life really matters. I may not have the time to finish that." He nodded. "Consider it done. I'll help you with drawing up the papers." There's a man that's coming to dinner on Friday night, Fr. O'Conner from Connecticut. I'll talk to him about this and the part he'll play. I want to leave some things to the Church too." On Friday, Frank called about 4:30 in the afternoon and asked if it was all right to come then instead of waiting. "Of course," Rita said. Frank could hear the delight in her voice. In a few minutes, he walked into the kitchen and swept her into his arms, kissing her deeply. "I've missed you," he said softly, between kisses. "I've missed you too," Rita breathed in his scent. She felt safe and warm in Frank's arms. He was her rock; her protector and she knew that he would always be there for her. She poured him tea and then sat down across from him at the table, both of them catching up on their lives. Frank eyed her carefully. She had lost weight, but other than that, she looked well. He knew she still had the fatigue and the pain. She lived with that, but otherwise, she looked good. Soon, her parents showed up with the kids and they all sat down to dinner. Rita had prepared prime rib, steamed veggies, twice baked potatoes and grudgingly, she had allowed Mamie to make her famous melt in your mouth rolls. Frankie wanted in on the cooking, and made chocolate swirl mousse. Her grandfather teased her gently. "If you keep making things like this Frankie, we'll have to fight the men off. You sure know the way to a man's heart." "Posh," smiled Rita's mother. "The way to your heart has always been through your stomach!" They all laughed and he admitted, "I've always been a sucker for good food." After dinner, the ladies retired to the living room for coffee and Frank and George went to the Study. They settled into the overstuffed chairs with their brandy to finish the conversation started at dinner about Rome. "Frank," he said, "I'm not going to beat around the bush. If I'm wrong, correct me, but I have eyes. I see the love between you and Rita. I also see the strong resemblance between you and Frankie. Do you want to tell me, or should I tell you?" Frank was not surprised. "No, you're right. I do love your daughter. I've loved Rita since I first met her in Rome, years ago. I know, its not something the Church or the Jesuit Order approves of, but feelings happen. And yes, I'm Frankie's father." "Does she know?" George asked. Frank shook his head, lighting his pipe. "No. Rita and I only recently found each other again, and we thought it best that Frankie not be told. She loved Mike as a father, and we didn't want to upset her any more than she already is. She misses Mike terribly, and I'm doing what I can to help her deal with his death. Now we're working together to prepare both of them for Rita's illness and her death when it happens." George nodded. "I think that's a wise decision. Tell me, how're you and Rita coping...with his death, and the two of you being together again, and also with the Cancer." Frank was honest. "We're doing the best we can. I try to get to New York as often as I can, but it's hard. I have a trip coming up that will send me to Rome. I'd like to take Rita, but I doubt that she'll leave the kids. I'd like for her to see it once again before..." "I understand," George nodded. "Maybe we can take the children for a few weeks. Give them a tour of Belgium and even Holland too. That'd give you time with their mother." Frank thought this over. "Yes, it would, but I don't have a lot of time for things during the mornings. Later on during the day, I'd have time for sight seeing and dinner and whatever." George was thoughtful. "I have a trip to Rome coming up also. There's a NATO conference there. Maybe we could merge these trips and I could be Rita's escort?" Frank nodded. "That sounds like it'd work. I'll give you my card and all of my telephone numbers and we can try to work it out." Rita knocked on the door and walked in. "Okay," she laughed. "You've smoked and talked long enough. Its time we ladies had some of your attention." George laughed. "And you shall. Lead on. We're right behind you." "I still have questions," George told Frank quietly as they walked through the hall. "I won't mention our talk to Rita or her mother." "I understand," Frank replied. "I'll answer them as best I can, and I appreciate your discretion." Two years of treatments and time together had passed. Bishop O'Conner had another conference scheduled in Rome with the Father General of the Society of Jesus. Her Dad had a similar NATO Conference scheduled in Rome. Because it was Spring Vacation for her two teenager's high schools, Rita sent the kids to Brussels for a vacation with her parents. She and Frank were on a plane for Rome within another two days. Her Dad met them at the Airport in Rome and escorted them to the hotel. He had secured two suites, one for himself and Fr. Frank; another for Rita. On the surface, things would be proper and above board. Rita Remembers Ch. 04 George left them to unpack and went off to his own meetings. He would check in with them in the early afternoon, and if they wanted to meet for dinner, they would tell him. Otherwise, he would give them the time they needed together. He could see the changes in Rita as did Frank and they knew that time was a very precious and very limited quantity. Rita was dying. As Rita and Frank unpacked, they took time for glasses of the fine Italian wine they both loved. After they unpacked, they walked hand in hand thru the living room, into the bedroom. Frank stopped along side the chair and unbuttoned his shirt, next he unbuttoned her silk blouse and slipped it off of Rita's shoulders. He sat down and pulled her gently across his lap. Rita giggled as she willingly slipped across his thighs. "You have the best hands of anyone I've ever met. It's not just that they are strong, it's that your fingers make me feel such wonderful things, you make me feel sensations that drive me wild, your fingers reach so deep into me that I think I am going to explode." She quivered with excitement as she felt his fingers stroking her ass and tickling the tops of her thighs. His fingers found her wet and willing. "Oh God, Frank, that feels so good," she moaned as his fingers drove slowly in and out of her pussy. She could feel his cock harden beneath her belly and squirmed slightly against it. She felt it contract against her and giggled. "Little Frank's awake too, I think." Frank growled low in his throat as he felt her first slight orgasm. "You, my love, would wake up a dead man's cock." Rita laughed as she stood up, taking him by the hand. "Enough. Take me to bed." During this trip to Rome, Frank noticed Rita tiring easily and needing more rest. She never complained with pain, yet he knew by her facial expression, it was there. He told George that he had decided to cut the trip short and take her back to New York to see her doctors. George agreed, and called his wife to pack the children up and meet him in New York. She hurriedly got a flight out and met them at the airport in New York with the children. As Rita, Frank and George got off the plane, Marie realized just how close Frank and Rita were. He held her close as they walked slowly across the tarmac and to the gate. At that moment he could have cared less who saw them, or what they thought. His only concern was Rita, the love of his life. Against her protests, she was taken to St. Francis Hospital and Dr. Winters met them there. Friends of Rita's came and got the children. After running some tests, Dr. Winters gave them the news that there was nothing that could be done for Rita. It was just a matter of time. Her parents stayed with her and Frank went to the Chapel to pray. Rita was allowed to go home, and as the weeks passed she grew weaker. Frank came to visit as often as his duties allowed, and although they couldn't have a sexual relationship, she was happy to just be held in his arms and sleep by his side. He was in his office at the Cathedral in Stamford when the dreaded call came. "Frankie Thompson is on the line," his secretary informed him. "Put it through," he said, picking up the phone. "Yes, Frankie." He said brusquely. "Is it about Rita?" "Yes," she replied. "Mom wants to see you as soon as you can make it. Please hurry!" "I'll be there this afternoon," he said. He told his secretary he was going to New York and would be gone for a while. He wasn't sure when he would be back, and to clear all appointments until he called. He rushed to the Chancery and packed a few things and headed to Rita's home on Long Island. At the age of seventeen, Frankie was tall and beautiful. She had her father's mannerisms, and her mother's quiet beauty. She was on the porch when Frank arrived and hurried up the steps. "How is she?" he asked. "Not good," Frankie replied, "But she is still aware. You are the only one she wants to see. She closes her eyes and shoo's the rest of us out. Mamie can't get her to eat anything now." Frank put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her. "Well," he said quietly, "Let's go see what a grumpy old Priest can do. She may throw me out too." He stopped in the kitchen and got a bowl of soup from Mamie. As she placed it on a tray, she looked up at Frank, tears shining. "I hope you can get something down her, Fr. Frank. She's just wastin' away to nothing." "I'll try, Mamie," he promised. "I'll do my best." Rita's eyes were shut when Frank entered her bedroom. The curtains were drawn and it looked like a tomb. He set the tray on the vanity and opened the drapes. Rita covered her eyes with one hand and said curtly, "Close the drapes, Mamie. I want the darkness." Frank walked over and sat down on the bed. "I'm not Mamie, and the drapes stay open. If you want 'em closed, get your sorry butt up and do it. I'm not going to let you lay here and starve yourself to death." "Frank, you did come," she said softly, smiling. "Of course I came," he said, trying to sound irritated. "Did you think they wouldn't call me with you trying your best to get out of this world?" "I'm tired, Frank," she whispered. "I don't want to live like this." "I understand," he said, helping her to sit up in the bed some. "But you're going to eat this Mamie soup or she's going to make me eat it. Now, you know how I feel about soup, so that isn't going to happen. Open up sweetheart. That's my girl, one spoonful at a time." Rita laughed softly and ate almost the whole bowl. It was really very good and she was hungry. Eating takes a lot of energy and she had to stop and rest a few times. Even then, when she was through, she was exhausted. She lay with her eyes closed, holding onto his hand. Frank slipped his fingers from hers and leaned to kiss her gently. "I'll be back in a few minutes." "No," she whispered, as she opened her eyes and reached up to take his collar off. She grinned as she held it in her fingers. "I've always liked you better without this." He chuckled. "You're still a vixen." "Take your shirt off, Frank,... please. Wrap me in it and hold me. I want your arms around me." He stood, taking his shirt off and wrapped it around her, then scooted her over in the bed, shocked at how light she was. He laid down with her and held her as she drifted off to sleep. She would waken every few minutes and whisper, "Frank?" "I'm here, my love." He would tell her, and she would sleep again. Frank spent those final days with Rita and her family. He realized that she was dying. She would go in and out of coma, but she wanted him there when she woke. Toward the end, they talked of their love, their child, and what Rita wanted for Frankie. Her parents came, and after seeing Rita's condition and knowing that the end was imminent, they made arrangements to stay. Dr Winters visited several times a day and he had even offered private duty nurses but Rita resisted and between Frank and Marie they kept her comfortable and free of almost all the pain. Her father was with her when he felt her death was near and he sent for Frank. He gave her Last Rites and as her children and her parents left the room, he held her in his arms as she took a deep breath, whispered "I love you", and breathed her last. Frank kissed her still warm lips and told her that he loved her and that he would love no one else for the rest of his life. He sat by her side, holding her hand and cried. In time, he went into her bathroom and washed his face. Then he laid her body down, straightened out the sheet, fluffed her pillow but left her head uncovered. Frank then called Dr. Winters before he went out to tell Rita's family of her death. "Marie, George, Frankie and Mike, and Mamie – Rita is gone. She just passed with a sigh and an 'I love you' for all of us." Frankie burst into tears as did Rita's mother who turned into George's arms. Frankie's knees buckled and Frank caught her and held her tightly as she cried. Finally when sobs had turned to gentle tears, they all sat down and George and Frank talked of Rita's wishes about her funeral arrangements. She had had time to plan and all of them knew that she wanted simple rather than elaborate and that she must be buried next to Mike in the same cemetery as her grandparents. The next few days were difficult but Frank, the children, Marie and George stayed together. Frankie was going through her mother's desk and scrapbooks looking for a special photo for the visitation and the prayer card. What she found rocked her to the depths of her being. Rita had kept letters that she had written but never mailed to Frank. There were also clippings from several newspapers about Frank's elevation and appointment to be the Bishop of the Stamford, Conn. Diocese. She read the letter from Rita to Fr. Frank telling him that he was going to be a father. This letter was written right before her birth and told of everything that Rita had gone through...that she was pregnant and going to live in St. Louis with her aunt. Frankie was overcome with a combination of feelings. Deeply religious, she was astonished that a Jesuit priest and a Bishop at that – would have a sexual relationship –let alone father a child. And Frankie knew that Fr. Frank and her Mother had continued that relationship right to the end. She also knew with a very feminine insight that Rita had deeply loved Frank and that she had been faithful to him even within her marriage to Mike. Frankie had called Mike "Daddy" but she had known that he was not her real father. Mike had even talked with her about it before he had left for Korea. They had talked about how proud Mike was of her, her success at school and how she was growing up to be a wonderful and talented young lady. He was proud to be her Dad! She wondered what the real truth was. Other letters told Frank of her birth and even included a small photo of her a few days old; another told of her mother's meeting and falling in love with Mike and then their small chapel wedding. A note that was almost the newest told Frank of the birth of Michael Jr.; and there was a half written letter – begun but not completed -- that told of Mike's death in the wartime crash in Korea, asking Frank to pray for Mike's soul. All the letters were tied with a dark blue ribbon – letters never mailed but kept -- shrouded in secrecy. When Frankie went downstairs, it was as if she was a different person. She was withdrawn and cold, not only to Fr Frank, but also to her grandparents. They tried to get her to talk, "Frankie tell us what's wrong and we can try to help?" "No! Nobody can do anything to help –it's years too late!" Frankie wheeled around and ran upstairs to her room. She closed the door and flung herself on the bed, crying. Finally exhaustion overcame her and she slept. When she got up the next morning she knew she wanted to talk with Fr. Frank about this. She was sure that he would lie to her, but she wanted to see the look on his face when she confronted him. Early the next morning, the family gathered in the kitchen and the breakfast room, Fr Frank came in from the Study where he had been saying Divine Office. They all prayed together for Rita and for strength to get through the next few hours. The Funeral Mass was scheduled for 10:00 AM with the burial afterwards, and then a small reception for their close family and friends. With great emotional difficulty, Frank said the Funeral Mass and gave a very moving tribute to Rita as a fine woman, a loving mother, and a pillar of their community. Finally it was all over and everyone gathered at the cemetery. The masses of flowers that covered the sides of the deep black headstone were able to disguise that Mike's grave was but one of three place and Rita's was in the middle spot. Fr. Frank knew that it would be against deep traditions, even breaking the "rules"; but that he wanted to join Rita when his time came. Rituals finished, they gathered at Rita's beautiful home. It was filled with the smell of flowers and somber people. People grieved and talked and remembered Rita as they celebrated her life. Finally the friends left and the family was alone. Marie and George went upstairs to pack...they would be leaving for Washington and then Brussels as soon as the family met with the lawyers in the morning. Mamie would stay with the children but Marie would return as soon as her duties in Brussels permitted. Fr. Frank went to the Study to read. He had found the letters in the desk by accident, and seeing his name on them, wanted to have time to read them in leisure. He was also delaying his return to Stamford until after Rita's will was read and the children's future plans settled. He dreaded the next day as he read, knowing that both Frankie and Mike would be told the truth. Just then there was a soft knock on the door and before he could say a word, Frankie opened it, walked in and locked it behind her. "Hello Father, or should I say Dad? I think we need to talk and I'm old enough to know the truth. I've read the letters mom wrote to you. I left them out for you." Frank sat stunned. He had thought about this moment over the past two and a half years since he learned of Rita whereabouts and Frankie's birth. Confronting him now was an angry young woman that had his eyes and her mother's temper. She was demanding answers. He was in big trouble. End of ch. 4... Rita Remembers Rita shut the door quietly, walked down the stairs and out into the early morning dawn. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the morning light and she looked around. The street was the same and the smells! Vendors were already out and preparing to sell their wares and the ladies of the night were preparing to get some sleep. Nothing had changed, not visably, but she knew that she had changed. "I spent the night wrapped in a Priest's arms –making love to him!" she muttered to herself. "ME!! I cannot believe that I did such a thing...a good Catholic girl like me!" She had a few blocks to walk to her apartment -- very close to the American Embassy – yet she chose to walk the long way. She needed the time to sort out her thoughts and feelings. Rita knew that what she and Fr. Frank had done was wrong in the eyes of the Catholic Church, but she couldn't help feeling that somehow it was not a sin. Her mind went over and over the last few hours with him and she trembled as she remembered the touch of his hands and the passions they had shared. Surely something that wonderful could not be so bad. She shook her head and tried to rid herself of the pangs of guilt-- she had caused Fr Frank to break his vows. He won't call, she thought, he had been as caught up in the moment as I and he will not allow it to happen again. She caught her breath as she felt a tear slide down her cheek. "God forgive me, I've caused a Priest to break his Vows!" she cried softly. Passing a small and very old church near the Spanish Steps, she went into a side chapel and bought a candle for a few lira. Lighting the candle and placing it in front of the statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary, she knelt and prayed for forgiveness –understanding and the strength never to see Fr Frank again.