by Ray Gordon
"Yes, of course. So men put their cocks up your pussy?"
"They don't put them up my arse, do they?"
"I don't know, they might."
"Are you saying that I'm an anal-slag?"
"Yes, no... I mean..."
"My mother's the anal-slag, not me."
"Mrs Baxter is an..."
"She's not my mother."
"Who is your mother, Marianne?"
"No one."
"Right. Well, that makes sense. I'd like to examine you, if I may?"
"Examine what you like."
"Really? Oh, well, in that case..."
"Why don't you examine my mother?"
"Mrs Baxter?"
"Yes."
"I'd like to as I know she needs help. But I'm not a psychiatrist. I'd like to have a look at your vagina, Marianne. Slip your knickers off and lie on the sofa."
"You are a sad perv," she sighed. "You only want me to pull my knickers down so you can touch my cunt."
"Yes, that's... Good grief, what a terrible thing to suggest."
"It's true, isn't it?"
"No, of course not."
"You don't want to touch my cunt because you're a dirty old man?"
"Certainly not."
"In that case I'll go home."
"What do you mean?"
"Most men want to play with my cunt. They're dirty old men, so it's OK by me. But you're not a dirty old man, are you?"
"Well..."
"Dirty old men can do what they like to me. I don't mind what they do as long as they're honest. Honesty is a virtue."
"Yes, yes it is."
"If a man tells me he wants to lick my creamy-wet cunt because he loves creamy-wet cunts, then that's fine. But as you're not a dirty old man..."
"I see," Will murmured pensively, sensing the need for a quick backtrack. "You have a good point, Marianne, and I didn't say I wasn't a dirty old man, exactly."
"I bet you've taken many girls into the woods and fucked them."
"I've lost count..." Will boasted, his words tailing off as she fiddled with her handbag. He frowned. When Josie had first come to the village she'd had a tape recorder concealed in her handbag. A tabloid newspaper reporter, she'd tried every trick in the book to expose him. Was that Marianne's game? Deciding to change tack, he sat on the sofa and laughed.
"I'm only joking," he said. "After all, I'm a man of God."
"You're not a dirty old man, then?" she asked, still fiddling in her handbag.
"No. I think it's absolutely disgusting the way some men carry on."
"You wouldn't like to lick my pussy then?" she grinned, parting her thighs and pulling her wet panties to one side.
"Certainly not," Will gaped, his wide eyes transfixed on the crack of her vagina running between her hairless love lips. "Good grief, the last thing I'd want to do is lick your lovely pussy."
"So, you don't want to push your finger into my wet hole or slip your knob into my cunt and pump me full of spunk?"
"Er... No, no."
"Are you sure?" she asked, parting her vaginal lips and exposing her inner sex folds.
"Perfectly sure, thank you."
Grabbing her handbag she shook her head in disbelief. "In that case, there must be something wrong with you," she sighed, standing up and walking to the door. "I came here because I'd heard you're a good fuck. I'll just have to find a real man to satisfy me."
"Wait," Will said, leaping to his feet.
"Do you want to tongue-fuck my cunt or not?" she asked expectantly.
"Er... No, no."
As she left the house Will bit his lip. He'd done the right thing, he was sure. She was a little temptress, but he'd been strong and fought his inner desires... Fuck it, he thought, his penis tenting his cassock as he pondered the girl's dripping pussy. Gazing out of the window he noticed her hovering in the lane. She was fiddling with her bag, and he was sure she had enough evidence on tape to nail him. Dashing out of the house he ran up to her and grabbed her bag.
"Right," he said as the startled girl stared in horror at him. "Let's have a look at your tape recorder, you spy-slut."
"What?" she frowned as he rummaged through her bag.
"This is what I wanted," he grinned, pulling out a small machine.
"You want my walkman?"
"This is no ordinary walkman. You've got me on tape, haven't you?"
"Annoying girls again, Father?" PC Bridlington asked as he pulled up on his bike.
"He's trying to steal my walkman," Marianne complained, snatching her bag and the machine from Will's hand.
"I see," the Constable murmured, propping his bike up against the fence and taking his notebook and pen from his top pocket. "What have you got to say for yourself, Father?"
"It's a tape recorder," Will replied. "She made me tell her how I love fucking... I mean..."
"Is that so?"
"No, of course not. I... I was joking."
"I think you'd better come along to the station and tell your sick jokes to the sergeant."
"You don't have to overact," Will sighed as Marianne ran off.
"I am not overacting, Father. Now, come with me."
"All right, all right," Will groaned. "I'll just get my mobile phone and lock the house and I'll be right with you."
Dashing into the house, Will left by the back door, raced down the garden and leapt over the fence - ripping his cassock in the process. Marianne was in line for the anal speculum, he reflected, hiding out in the woods. "Fuck," he breathed, making himself comfortable on a patch of soft grass behind a clump of bushes. "Now I'm a fugitive on the run."
Chapter Eight
Dusk finally falling, Will crept back to the house and slipped through the rear door into the kitchen. This was a right fucking mess, he reflected, hearing laughter emanating from the bar. Everything was going so well, but now... He had to get his hands on the spy-slut's tape recorder if he was to clear his name and save his skin. Scratching his full balls through his torn cassock, he grabbed a can of lager from the fridge. Fucking lager, he thought, popping the ring-pull. At this rate he was going to end up an alcoholic, if he wasn't already.
After double fisting Lana and spying Marianne's hairless and most lickable sex crack, his heaving balls were in desperate need of draining. Contemplating a quick wank, he was about to creep upstairs when he had an idea. Marianne had the incriminating tape recording, she also had a beautiful little pussy. Will wanted the tape, his ever-rampant cock needed a little pink pussy... Leaving through the front door, Will made his way to Mrs Baxter's house. If he could get chatting to the woman, gain her confidence, he might have the opportunity to slip upstairs to Marianne's bedroom and grab the tape - if not her fanny. That was if Marianne lived there, of course.
Slipping up the path to the front door of the small cottage, Will rang the bell. First things first, he mused, his penis tenting his cassock as he recalled Marianne pulling her wet panties to one side and exposing the lips of her pussy. Mrs Baxter opened the door and was delighted to see Will. Inviting him in, she began rambling on about Marianne and how he had to try to help the girl overcome her fear of breastfeeding.
"Is she in at the moment?"
"No, she's gone to post a letter to her mother's sister's brother's husband and then she's going to Father Kosher's church."
"I was wondering whether I might have a look at her bedroom. You see..."
"Of course," she smiled. "You go and have a look at her room and I'll put the kettle on for tea. It's the first on the right at the top of the stairs."
Leaving the room, Will grinned as he went up the stairs. The tape recorder was bound to be there, he thought, slipping into the girl's room and switching the light on. "God, what a mess," he breathed, looking at the panties and bras strewn everywhere. He gathered up at least a dozen pairs and stuffed them up his cassock. Soiled knickers; always a nice little earner, he thought, rummaging through the dressing table drawers. A vibrator, nipple clamps, butt-plugs, shaving
foam, a length of rubber hose... Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he moved to the bedside cabinet.
"Alleluia," he breathed, taking the small tape recorder from the drawer. Removing the tape and stuffing the evidence of his decadent ways into his pocket, he was about to close the drawer when he noticed several photographs jutting out of an envelope. Always the inquisitive, he pulled them out and began looking through them. His dark eyes widening as he focused on a close-up shot of Marianne kneeling on a patch of grass in the woods, he gasped. There was nothing wrong with a girl kneeling on the grass, even though she was naked. And there was nothing wrong with the Bishop standing before her. It might have been perfectly innocent, had it not been for that fact that Marianne was sucking the Bishop's erect cock, the man's sperm streaming down onto her pert breasts.
Another shot showed the Bishop with his cock embedded in Marianne's bottom. This was exactly the sort of evidence he needed to defrock the pimple-nosed old git, Will thought as he slipped the photographs into his pocket. Reckoning that the Bishop and the Reverend Mother were running some sort of dodgy business from the convent, he decided to snoop around the woman's study later that evening. Trying to incite Will as the perpetrator of sexual wrongdoings was probably designed to take the spotlight away from the Reverend Slagger and the Bishop. Wondering who had taken the photographs, he went downstairs and found Mrs Baxter in the lounge.
"I'm sorry about the mess," the woman sighed. "Marianne will throw her dirty nappies all over the floor."
"That's all right," Will said, sitting in an armchair as she passed him a cup of tea. "Most girls' bedrooms are the same."
"How do you know?" she asked accusingly.
"I've seen dozens of... I'm just guessing," he smiled. "I would imagine most girls' rooms are a mess."
"Chloe's room was always tidy. I think Marianne must get her slovenliness from her mother."
"Yes, more than likely," Will frowned, sipping his tea.
"She was a terrible woman. Sex mad, you know."
"Really?"
"Oh yes. She couldn't keep her hands to herself."
"Where is she now?"
"Gone to Father Kosher's church."
"Not Marianne. Where's her mother?"
"Mrs Baxter?"
"No, you're Mrs Baxter."
"Exactly."
"Er... Yes, of course."
"Do you fancy me, Father?"
"Well, I... You asked me that about six months ago, and look what happened."
"I didn't ask you anything of the kind."
"Yes you did."
"You're just trying to get off with me," she giggled. "I did no such thing after I forced you to make love to me."
"I think I'll be going. I have several things to do." Finishing his tea he stood up. "I'll see myself out. Thanks for the tea."
"It was coffee."
"Oh, right."
"I thought you wanted to ravish my naked body?"
"Not now, Mrs Baxter. Another time, perhaps."
Leaving the cottage, Will rubbed his hands together as he stole down the lane. Soiled panties, the tape, photographs of the Bishop with his cock in Marianne's various orifices... The visit to Mrs Baxter's had been well worthwhile, he reflected. Ravish her naked body? Argh! Hiding his spoils beneath a bush in his front garden, he made his way to the convent. He was going to be careful, he knew as he rounded the corner in the lane. PC Bridlington was after him, and the man was well known for lurking, hiding in bushes and spying on his suspects.
Creeping through the convent grounds, Will breathed in the girl-scented air. Hundreds of wet slits, he mused, looking up at the rows of windows. If he could gather some incriminating evidence from the Reverend Slagger's study, he'd be well on his way to bringing down not only the Bishop but the hypercritical slag-bag. And he'd then be free to roam the convent and fuck as much as he liked.
Sneaking through the grounds, he made his way to the side door and slipped into the building. He knew his way round the place well, and went straight to the slagger's study. Wondering how many orgasms he'd had in the Victorian building as he hovered outside the door, he listened for a moment to make sure no one was in the room. Easy as pie, he thought, finally inching the door open and slipping inside. Heading for the desk, he began rummaging through the drawers. There was bound to be something of interest stashed away, he was sure, sifting through a pile of exam papers.
"What's this?" he murmured, opening a file marked Entercock. A detailed plan drawn of his house, times and dates noting his movements, photographs showing him entering the convent by the side door... Slipping the file beneath his cassock, he was about to make his getaway when he heard voices outside the door. Fuck, he thought, looking around the room for somewhere to hide. Slipping behind the heavy velvet curtains drawn across the window, he held his breath as the door opened. If the Reverend Mother caught him lurking in her study...
"She won't be back for ages," a girl giggled.
"I hope you're right," another said. "If she catches us in here we'll be fucking expelled."
"You worry too much, Melissa. OK, where shall we start?"
"I'll look in the filing cabinet."
"With a copy of the exam paper, we'll be laughing. Just imagine, we'll be the only two girls in the place with one hundred percent. We could even sell copies of the paper to the other girls."
"We'd need to steal a photocopier," the girl whispered, going through the files.
"No problem."
"Well, there's nothing in the filing cabinet. Sarah, what are you doing?"
"Wiping pussy juice over the cow's phone."
Will gazed through the crack in the curtains as the girl tried to push the receiver into her gaping pussy. Her skirt up over her stomach, her panties around her knees, she rubbed the phone up and down her crack, smearing her copious sex juices over the mouthpiece. Finally managing to push the thing into her vaginal caver, she gasped. Will couldn't believe that a girl so innocent-looking was such a tart.
"Oh, it's all over the phone," her friend giggled, gazing at the juice-glistening receiver.
"That's the idea," her friend replied, slipping the receiver out of her sex sheath with a loud sucking sound. "Why don't you juice the old bag's glass?"
"What, this one?" she asked, taking a whisky tumbler from the desk.
"She drinks her scotch from that. Rub your fanny all over it."
Will was unable to believe his eyes as the girl lifted her short skirt and ran the edge of the glass up and down her knickerless pussy slit. Both girls were extremely attractive, he observed. His cock solid beneath his cassock, he knew he was going to have to drain his balls before long. All over the study floor at this rate, he reflected as the girl wiped her vaginal cream around the rim of the glass. As the other girl replaced the receiver and grabbed a pen from the desk, she laughed and joked about the Reverend Mother having been slimed.
"We'll slime everything," she giggled, pushing the pen between her pussy lips and driving it deep into her vagina. "We'll cunt-slime everything."
"I have a better idea," the other girl whispered, placing the glass on the corner of the desk. "Watch this."
Bending her knees and parting her thighs, she aligned the glass with her pussy. Waiting for a gush of vaginal cream to spew into the glass, Will massaged his erect cock. He really was in desperate need of a damned good orgasm, but this was neither the time nor the place. The girl's face grimacing, she parted the pouting lips of her cunny, exposing the wet entrance to her sex as her friend watched. Almost laughing out loud, Will held his hand to his mouth as a golden stream left the girl and cascaded into the glass. Both girls shrieking with laughter as the glass filled and overflowed, the golden liquid running over the edge of the desk and splattering on the carpet, Will almost fell through the curtains.
"Hello," he grinned as the girls stared in horror at him. "What's going on here then?"
"Nothing, sir," the one filling the glass replied sheepishly, pulling her short skirt down a
nd concealing her dripping slit. "We were just..."
"Just looking for the exam papers?" he asked, pretending not to notice the overflowing glass.
"No, no," the other girl murmured. "We were looking for... for new exercise books."
Sitting at the desk, Will opened the draw and took out two exam papers. "I thought you might be after these," he smiled.
"Er... Not really."
"Now, let me see," he murmured pensively, scrutinizing the papers. "The exam is..."
"Tomorrow morning, sir."
"Yes, yes of course. I'd better put these somewhere safe. If you're sure you don't want a couple of copies, that is."
"You'd let us take them?" the piss-slut asked, her blue eyes frowning as she tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder.
"Not take them, exactly."
"What, then?" the brunette asked.
"We might come to an arrangement. Obviously, the better you do in the exam, the better your chances of getting a decent job later on."
"Yes, that's what we thought," the piss-slut beamed eagerly. "So, what's the arrangement?"
"Show me your naked bottom, and you can have a copy of the paper."
"Really?" she trilled, walking around the desk and bending over. "Is this all?" she asked, lifting her skirt and yanking the back of her tight panties down.
"There's a little more to it," Will smiled, eyeing the deep ravine of her anal cleavage, the firm, rounded cheeks of her teenage bottom.
"He wants us to suck him off," the other girl rejoined. "That's right, isn't it?"
"Well, I..."
"All priests like girls sucking their cocks off. It's a well-known fact."
"Is it?"
"Of course it is. We sucked a priest off the other day."
"You sucked a... Who was this priest?" Will frowned, dragging his eyes away from the other girl's spankable bottom.
"I don't know. Father Kosh or something. We went to his church and he paid us ten quid to suck his cock."
"You've made my day," Will beamed. "I've been hoping to... All right then," he said, slapping the piss-slut's naked buttocks and lifting his cassock, "if you want the exam papers, kneel either side of the chair and give me the blowjob of all blowjobs."