by Ray Gordon
"I have to say this, Marianne," Will murmured, wondering whether she'd shaved her pubic curls.
"Say what, Father?" she asked, cocking her head to one side.
"I believe you to be a spy."
"A spy?"
"Spies are rife in the village of Cumsdale. At least, they were. My wife-to-be, or not-to-be, as the case maybe or may not be... Josie was a journalist. She still is. She's on an assignment in Moscow at the moment. You'll appreciate that I can't say too much about the assignment as she's working for the KGB."
"Oh, right," the girl frowned.
"Josie originally came to the village to expose me."
"Did she?"
"Yes."
"That's disgusting, Father. Exposing a man of God like that is..."
"No, I don't mean expose as in exposure of a penis. I mean, expose me for the sad pervert I... What the hell am I talking about?"
"I have no idea, Father."
"There was a man from the water authority who was bent..."
"Gay?" the girl grinned.
"Bent on exposing me. So, you'll appreciate the fact that I have to be very careful when it comes to girls. Times have changed, Marianne. I can no longer toss caution to the wind and toss off..."
"But I'm not a spy."
"Are you working for MI5?"
"Of course not."
"I shall check."
"I don't mind what you do."
"Then, what are you doing here?"
"I've come to confess my sins, Father."
"I can't take confession, Marianne. I'm no longer a priest."
"You're wearing a cassock."
"I've meta... metamorph..."
"Metamorphosed?"
"No, I've changed."
"Into your cassock?"
"Yes, I was reminiscing."
"Why not reminisce a little longer and hear my confession?" she proffered eagerly. "You want to go back to your work as a priest, don't you?"
"Well... Yes, I do. I miss it terribly - and the priesthood. I should never have got caught."
"Be your own priest, then. You can start your own church."
"You may have something there," he said, rubbing his chin. "You may just have something there, my horny little... My child."
The girl was brilliant, Entercock reflected. She not only had a brilliant body and would no doubt be a brilliant fuck, but she had a brilliant mind. Why not start his own church? He knew the Bishop could do nothing to stop him. Besides, he was probably too busy tonguing a choirboy's arse to worry about the likes of Entercock. In fact, no one could stop him from preaching in the privacy of his own home. s far as he knew there was no law against taking confession in his house. And if there was, they could stuff it. The idea appealing to him, he paced the floor again. Nothing could go wrong, and no one could stop him.
"OK," he said, turning and facing the girl. "Confess your sins."
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," she murmured, hanging her head.
"Go on, go on," he enthused impatiently.
"I don't know what to say."
"You're supposed to tell me the things you've done to your beautiful, fresh, curvaceous, firm, warm, wet pussy and..."
"I haven't done anything to the cat," she returned. "I'm an animal lover."
"What?"
"I love animals."
"Have you sinned or not?"
"No."
"Why not, for God's sake? Do you want to sin?"
"Yes, that's why I'm here."
"Ah, now we're getting somewhere," he grinned, clapping his hands. "You want to commit sins of the flesh with me, isn't that right?"
"No, it's not. I want to confess my sin, which is that I want to sin. It's a sin to want to sin."
"I can't be doing with all this," Will sighed.
"Without sin there can be no redemption."
"Who told you that? Some fucking do-gooder, no doubt. Sorry, I didn't mean to swear."
"You are forgiven," she giggled.
"Hey, I'm the priest."
"And I'm the priestess. By the way, I know about your website."
"What?" he frowned. "Who told you...? I mean, I don't have a website."
"Yes, you do. Entercockenterprises dot cum."
"Ah, that web site. Er... Wait a minute. You are a bloody spy. It all fits now."
"No I'm not."
"Get your knickers off."
"No."
"Get your knickers off, or I shall call on Satan to remove them with his horns."
Shaking his head despondently as the crazy girl fled the house, Will decided to take a walk. His cassock would turn a few heads, he knew as he grabbed his keys and closed the front door behind him. Six months, he reflected sadly. What a waste of time. Strolling down the lane beneath the summer sun, he had intended to walk into the village. But his base desires got the better of him and he made his way to the convent. This was his calling, he knew as he wandered along the lane, turning every now and then to make sure he wasn't being followed by a water authority official - or a girl. Fucking spies, he thought irritably. He knew they were after him.
Was that the fragrance of fresh pussy wafting on the summer breeze? This was, indeed, a calling from God. A calling so powerful he could feel it stirring in his loins, heaving within his scrotal sac, throbbing within his purple knob. The convent was like a magnet, attracting him, sucking him in. This was meant to be, he knew as he recalled the girls playing netball, sitting cross-legged on the grass with the crotches of their panties displayed.
Walking through the grounds, he stopped and gazed at a circular clump of bushes. He'd taken many a nun into the bushes and had his wicked way with her. And many a nun had taken him into the bushes too. Looking up at the Victorian building, he smiled as memories flooded his mind. Recalling climbing up the drainpipe and slipping into the laundry room, he could almost smell the aroma of the convent girls' knickers, the aphrodisiacal scent of fresh pussy... But there had been someone hell-bent on putting an end to his pursuit of sexual gratification. An ugly, overweight, slack-titted, cowbag... The battles with the Mother Superior had been many and bloody.
"Blasphemer!" a woman dressed in a habit and wimple bawled, running towards Entercock. "Blasphemer!"
"My God," Will breathed, gazing in horror at the Mother Superior scurrying across the grass. "It's you."
"Why are you wearing that cassock?" she asked, placing her hands on her ample hips as she stood before him and scowled.
"Because I like it," he returned.
"You are not allowed to wear the cloth."
"Is there a law against it?" he sniggered. "My God, how you've aged. And you've put on weight."
"I shall notify the Bishop of your blasphemous behaviour without delay," she stormed, turning and marching towards the building. "And keep away from my convent."
"You can notify your arse for all I care. And I won't keep away from your brothel."
"You're a vile and despicable man, Entercock."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"I'll wipe that grin off your face, just you wait and see," she hissed.
"May Satan devour the wrinkled leather bags hanging from your hairy chest," he called as her generous frame grew smaller with distance.
"You've not heard the end of this, Entercock!"
"And the novice nuns haven't seen the end of mine, yet!"
Laughing, Will headed around the side of the building to the small door he used to slip through when in dire need of a fresh girl. Looking about him, he opened the door and stole into the narrow corridor. It took him back, inhaling the cold, musky air. Examining the stone floor behind the door, he grinned. The whitish stain was still there, and he recalled a young nun wanking him off, his seed falling on stony ground. But it wasn't only the nuns who'd eagerly sought his erect cock. The convent girls used to flock to him for advice, guidance - and frenzied sex.
His reverie broken by low murmurs coming from a side room, he edged his way along the corr
idor and spied through the crack in a door. Grinning, he could hardly believe the site that met his eyes. Wearing only a bra and skimpy panties, a young nun was ironing a habit. Gazing at her succulent lips, he imagined the globe of his cock there, spunking into her mouth. Mumbling to herself about the Reverend Mother, she didn't seem at all happy. Will only caught the odd word. Fucking hag. Crab-infested bitch. But he got the gist of the girl's sentiments towards the woman.
Eyeing her cleavage he felt his penis rise, his balls heave and roll as he imagined giving her a pearl necklace. "Fucking whore-bag," she breathed, banging the iron down and turning the habit over. Ogling the gentle rise of her firm stomach, he lowered his eyes and gazed longingly at the bulging triangular patch of white material hugging her sex lips. She'd be wet with desire, he was sure as he adjusted his cock though his cassock. And if she wasn't, she soon would be.
"Good morning," he smiled, tapping on the door and entering the room.
"Oh," she gasped, clutching the habit to her breasts. "Who are you?"
"I'm Father Entercock. You don't seem too happy."
"Happy?" she echoed bitterly through gritted teeth. "I was happy here, until that fucking cowbag of a... Oh, I'm sorry."
"No, my child. Please speak your mind."
"I've been here for three months," she sighed.
"You've been ironing for three months?"
"No. I've been at the convent for three months. There was a good atmosphere, we were all happy... And then, two weeks ago, that spunk-slut, cunting... I mean, the Reverend Mother arrived. She's been picking on me, deliberately singling me out. I'd rip her womb out if I could get my fist up her cunt."
"I'm sure you'd have no trouble in getting your..."
"My wicked stepfather forced me to come here," she sighed, laying the cassock over the ironing board. "As I said, it was OK until fuck-face arrived. Did you say Father Entercock?" she asked, puzzlement reflected in the blue pools of her sparkling eyes.
"Yes, that's right."
"I've heard all about you. You're infamous, you know."
"I do seem to have rather a chequered reputation," he smiled.
"Chequered? Cor blimey, mate. Word has it that you're some kind of fucking Casanova."
"Oh, thank you. It's very nice of you to say so."
"It's true then?"
"Well, I don't like to boast. Modesty is a virtue, and all that."
"So's chastity, but you can fuck that."
"Yes, I'm sure I can. I must say that you swear rather a lot for a young nun."
"And from what I've heard, you fuck rather a lot for an old priest."
"Less of the old, if you don't mind."
"Shit, someone's coming," she gasped, looking at the door. "Jesus Christ, it's fuck-face."
"Oh, er... I'll just hide in the corner beneath these habits," he grinned, diving into a mountain of black cloth.
Again thinking of the old days, the loose women, the danger, the heavy drinking, Entercock knew he'd come to the right decision. Donning his cassock was only the beginning. He'd set up his own church in his lounge, open a bar in the dining room, grow cannabis in the greenhouse, shag girls in the toilet... Making his plans as the door flew open and hit the wall with a dull thud, he stifled a snigger as the Reverend Mother Fucker asked the nun why she'd not finished ironing the pile of habits.
"I'm working as fast as I can," the girl replied morosely.
"Well it's just not fast enough," the hag-bag returned cruelly. "I've come to warn you that there's a pervert lurking in the grounds posing as a priest. He goes by the name of Entercock. You're to keep away from him, do you understand?"
"Yes, Reverend Mother."
"He's only after one thing, and he's not getting it here. Now, hurry up and finish that ironing."
"My arm's aching, Reverend Mother. May I...?"
"No you may not. This is your punishment, my girl. Your punishment for your slovenly ways, your despicable attitude, your sluttish behaviour, your disgusting habits, your gross lack of respect for the church, your heavy drinking, your..."
She sounded like his sort of girl, Will thought as the hag continued.
"Report to my office when you've finished."
"Yes, Reverend Mother."
"And hear this, Sister Crotchly. The next time I catch you sexually abusing one of God's cucumbers in the vegetable garden, I'll tie you over the altar and shove it where the sun don't shine."
"Yes, Reverend Mother."
The woman leaving the room, Will waited for a few minutes before emerging from beneath the pile of habits. The old bag hadn't changed, he reflected. If anything, she'd got worse. But what was she doing back at the convent? She'd left the village in disgrace six months previously, and Will was certain he'd seen the back of her for good. Clambering out from beneath the habits, he brushed his cassock down and smiled at the girl. She was extremely attractive, he observed, wondering how many orgasms she could achieve in one oral session. With long black hair framing her pretty face, her succulent and eminently spunkable lips...
"Now perhaps you see what I mean about the tit-slag," she hissed, angrily snatching another habit from the pile.
"She was arrested six months ago," Will enlightened the girl.
"Really?"
"For gross indecency in a public place and trying to pervert the course of justice by attempting to bribe a police officer. I'm surprised that she's got the nerve to show her face around here."
"That might explain why she never goes out," the girl murmured pensively.
"In a way, I'm rather pleased that she's back."
"Pleased? You must be mad."
"I used to wind her up and annoy her. She hated me, still does. I'm looking forward resuming the battle."
"You can count me in as one of your band of rebels," the girl giggled. "I'd do anything to get back at the shit-sucking slut."
"You have a wonderful way with words, er... What's your name?"
"Lolita, Lolita Crotchly."
"Lolita," Will breathed. "A beautiful name for a beautiful girl."
"Which church are you from?"
"Cumsdale Village... I mean... The Church of..."
"Don't you know?"
"The Unholy Union of the Wretched Souls."
"I'll have to come."
"Indeed you will," he chuckled wickedly; all over her face. "Why don't you come this evening? I'm having... Well, a sort of meeting. It's at my house, the old presbytery. It's just down the lane."
"Yes, I've seen the place. What time?"
"About, eight o'clock?"
"Right, I'll be there. I'd better get on with ironing these habits before placenta-face comes back."
"Yes, of course. I'll see you later, then."
Leaving the room, Will stole along the corridor and slipped out of the building. Standing on the grass beneath the summer sun, he looked about the grounds and breathed in the fresh air. Life was good, he ruminated, wondering whether the girl would turn up. What Josie would say, he had no idea. There again, he knew damned well what she'd say. But she was on her way to Moscow, and wouldn't be back for two months. Two months of rampant sex, he thought happily, striding across the grass with a spring in his step. And his cock.
Grabbing the ringing phone as he entered his house, he grimaced. It was the Bishop, Bishop Simon Holesgood. The Reverend Mother had been on the phone to him and told him that Entercock had been lurking in the grounds of the convent wearing a cassock. The Bishop, as usual, was not a happy man. Will sighed and shook his head mournfully as he listened to the inevitable lecture. He'd only worn the cassock for half an hour, and already the trouble had started.
"I wasn't wearing my cassock," Will lied, finally managing to get a word in.
"But you were seen," the Bishop returned angrily. "There's no point in lying to me, Entercock."
"It was a black cape," Will explained. "I'm... I'm in mourning."
"Oh, I see. Er... Who..."
"My great, great sister," Will sobbed.
"I'm distraught. We were so close."
"Great, great sister?" the man echoed.
"Three times removed. We were like brother and sister."
"In that case, I owe you an apology, Entercock. So, what were you doing in the convent grounds?"
"The Reverend Mother rang me."
"She rang you? But she said..."
"She asked me to have a talk with one of the nuns. Sister Crotchly, Lolita Crotchly."
"Ah, yes. I know the girl extremely well. I mean, I don't know her intimately. I'd like to, but... I mean..."
"I know exactly what you mean, Bishop."
"That nun is trouble, Entercock, nothing but trouble. But I don't understand why the Reverend Mother asked you to talk to the girl. She rang me and said that you were wearing your cassock and lurking in the grounds with intent."
"I must confess that I don't understand, either. She invited me into her office for elevenses. Rather nice, it was. Cheese and pickle sandwiches and homemade fruit cake and..."
"All right, Entercock. I'm sorry to have bothered you. And I'm sorry to learn of your great, great sister's demise."
"She will be too. Goodbye, Bishop."
Chuckling, Will hung up and grabbed a can of lager from the fridge. The battle had resumed, Josie was well out of the way, his balls were full and in dire need of emptying, and the fridge was well-stocked with lager. With Lolita calling round that evening, things were definitely looking up. Not least his penis. Lolita would be his first sexual conquest of many while Josie was away, he decided. She had an attitude problem, but it was nothing that a damned good naked buttock spanking wouldn't correct.
Wandering into his office he switched his computer on and went into his favourite chat room. Typing in Teen Girl as his nickname, he swigged from his can of lager and settled down to wind up the sad perverts by telling them of his teenage body, his ripe tits and wet pussy. They always fell for it, he reflected, introducing himself as a cumslut from London. It was a sad world, he mused as some guy wrote that he'd got his cock out and was imagining licking Teen Girl's wet cunt as he wanked. Raising his cassock Will began wanking as he, too, imagined Teen Girl's wet cunt. Hang on, he was Teen Girl, he thought, his shaft fully erect as he massaged his foreskin over the plum of his swollen knob. A sad and depraved world, but he liked it.