by Holly Ardent
At about two-thirty the doorbell rang. When Clay answered it there was a woman outside the door, one he didn't know. He looked at her curiously.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“Probably not, but I may be able to help you,” she said. “I told Faith not to bother accompanying me since I fear she'd only make things worse.”
“Are you Charity?” Clay asked.
“Yes, I am Father. I understand you've been having some problems and could use someone to talk things over with.”
“Yes, that's true. Come inside, please.”
Clay watched as Charity walked into the house. She was around average height with full hips and large breasts. Despite his recently discovered love of the female form what caught his attention the most was her hair. It was gathered with a hair tie at the back of her head and from there it spilled out and down, the multiple shades of brown cascading all the way down her back to the middle of her ass.
Charity made herself right at home. She sat down on the couch and looked at Father Clay, who was only now shutting the door since he'd been distracted by watching her hair shimmer as she crossed the room.
She got right down to business.
“So, Faith tells me you're having problems sleeping.”
“That's right,” Clay said.
“She also said that the only two ways you can get yourself to sleep are causing you some other problems.”
Clay nodded.
“She told me that you might be able to help me with that,” he said.
“I might, but first you'll need to tell me some more specifics about the problem. She didn't give me any details.”
Father Clay sighed.
Of course Faith didn't tell her those parts. It's like she wants me to embarrass and humiliate myself. Maybe it's just her way of getting back at Charity for leaving Faith out of this, but I'm starting to wonder.
“Here's what's going on,” Clay said. “When I moved here I had a hard time sleeping. It was just too different from what I'd known. I knew that a couple of shots of whiskey would help me relax and sleep, so that's what I did to get to sleep.”
He paused and Charity gestured for him to continue.
“Faith noticed my bottle of whiskey. She volunteers to do housekeeping and cooking for me and found it the first time she came by. So, she went and made me a drink with it. Then another, stronger, one after the first. I was drunk and sprawled on the couch when she...”
Clay's face heated up. He knew he was blushing. Just envisioning what Faith had done was bad enough, but now he needed to talk about it too.
“when she unzipped my pants and performed oral sex on me. I don't know if I fell asleep or passed out from the alcohol, but I slept very well that night.”
“So, alcohol and sex help you sleep better?” Charity asked. “Is it either or a combination of the two?”
“It's either. Although I don't sleep as well if it's just alcohol and I tend to have at least a little hangover in the morning even if I drink water.”
“You're sure about both these?”
“Oh yes, Faith did more the following day, we actually had sex. I slept very well that night also. But the next few days, when it was just the alcohol, I managed to sleep, but not as well. Then she introduced my to another woman who also wanted to be physical with me. Three days running we did things and I slept like a baby each night.”
“So you know sex helps you sleep,” Charity said.
“And I know alcohol does also, but not as well. The problem is, well I'm sure you can see what the problem is.”
“Why don't you go ahead and tell me?”
Clay looked at her for a moment, wondering if she really didn't get it or if she was just trying to get him to talk about it.
“I'm a priest!” he said. “I shouldn't be doing either of those things, but if I don't I can't sleep a wink.”
Charity nodded her head.
“So, the problem isn't so much actually the alcohol or the sex,” she said. “The problem is what you think, and how you feel, about them?”
Clay stopped and thought for a moment.
“Yes, that's it exactly. The things I'm doing are wrong, but I need to sleep, and...”
His voice trailed off, going softer.
“I've discovered that I like both of them too much for my own good,” he finished.
Clay's head drooped. Despite knowing that she was here to try to help with this problem, he was ashamed that he'd just unloaded it all on a woman he'd barely met.
When he raised his head, Charity was looking at him. Her gaze ran up and down, taking in all of him. Then she nodded once, firmly.
“I know how we can start at least,” she said. “I've a few ideas that might help some. Your reactions to those ideas will tell me where to go from there.”
“So, what do we do?” Clay asked. “What do I do?”
“I'm sure you've got a Bible around here someplace, right?”
“Of course.”
“Go get it, then come back here.”
Clay brought back his Bible and sat down with it in his lap.
“So, now what?” he asked.
“Open it and turn to First John, chapter four, verses seven and eight. Read those and think about them for a while.”
When he'd done so, she started tossing out verse after verse for him to look up and read.
“I've one more thing for you to read, then we'll talk some. Turn to the Song of Solomon. Read it out loud to me, and we'll discuss it as we go.”
As Clay read aloud, Charity stopped him at points to discuss what he'd just read. He found it hard to believe what he was hearing.
She's trying to convince me that there's nothing wrong with me having sex? I know it's wrong, but she does have a good argument. The Song of Solomon is nothing if not sexy and it was included in the Bible. I'm so confused.
After he was done reading, they sat there for a moment.
“Did you know,” Charity said, “that the current Pope has been quoted as saying that it's possible the church will not require the celibacy of priests?
“That quote was taken out of context,” Clay said. “I asked my teachers about that when I heard it.”
“You believed them without checking on your own? Of course you did. Come here.”
Clay wondered why she was booting his computer. When she opened the browser and typed in a query he got agitated.
“Of course that's what they'll have on there. That's where they misquoted him in the first place.”
She pulled up an article.
“Look at the date on that article. This most recent quote wasn't the first time the Pope said something about that, he did so before he was Pope as well,” she said.
Clay skimmed the article, then sat down hard in the chair. He scrolled back to the top and read it in depth.
“But that means...”
“Yes Clay, your teachers lied to you,” Charity said. “You should know by now that even your superiors aren't immune to sin. Why would you expect them to be any better than yourself?”
Clay sat there, shell-shocked. His mind was racing, wondering what else they might have lied to him about. Throughout it all Charity stood behind him, talking.
“So, if they're going to make their own reality about what's going on in the world and they still consider themselves priests and good men, shouldn't you be able to do the same?”
Clay shook his head vehemently.
“Did you force either of the woman you told me about? Did you injure either of them? Or did you just make them happy for a little while?” she said.
Clay stood up and shoved the chair back. He paced the room, decidedly not looking at Charity.
“Clay?” Charity said.
He ignored her.
“Clay? Do you want to sleep well tonight?”
He stopped pacing and slowly turned to face her.
“Of course I do, that's how this all started, isn't it?”
“Then I wa
nt you to take me.”
She unbuttoned several buttons on her dress and let it slide down. It pooled on the floor at her feet and she kicked it out of the way.
“My husband is gone for weeks at a time for his work. He knows I take lovers while he's gone, but doesn't say anything about it. He's been gone for two weeks already this time and isn't due home any time soon. Take me, make me happy for a while. Then you can sleep tonight.”
Clay stared at her lightly tanned skin. She was wearing a matching bra and panties, gray with a pink floral pattern. As he watched she reached behind herself and undid her bra. When she slid the straps off of her shoulders it fell to the floor. Clay stared at her breasts as they spilled onto her chest, unsupported. They trembled and shook from the motion.
He closed his eyes tightly.
“I don't think that's a good idea,” he said.
Her voice came from beside his ear.
“I think it's a very good idea.”
Charity took his hand and pulled it upwards. Clay wanted wanted to resist, but couldn't. When his finger brushed against the soft skin of her breast, he was lost.
* * *
Clay opened his eyes to find Charity standing right in front of him. She leaned forward and pressed her breasts against his chest. His hand crept up the side of the breast it was touching, stroking gently with a fingertip.
“See, isn't that nice?” she asked.
Clay didn't trust himself to speak, he just nodded.
She took his free hand and drew it to her other breast.
“Our bodies are made for pleasure,” she said. “If you believe God made us, then he made us capable of great pleasure, and by denying yourself that you deny one of His gifts.”
She was still leaning against him when he took his hands off of her breasts. She looked disappointed for a moment, until he moved them up over her shoulders, then she just looked curious.
Clay grabbed the hair tie and worked it off of her hair. When her hair was loose, he drew it forward and let it spill down her chest. He stepped back enough that they were separated, then reached up and grabbed one of her breasts, with her hair between his hand and her skin. Then he started fondling, feeling the softness of her breasts through the silkiness of her hair.
Clay was sure that Charity was purring.
But a person can't do that, can they?
She leaned her breast into his hand and caught his eyes. Her lips opened and Clay leaned forward to meet them.
Her tongue darted out before their lips even touched, prying his mouth open and sliding into it like a prodigal child returning home. Clay stood still, shocked, as her tongue explored the inside of his mouth, caressing everything it could reach. When she withdrew it, she teased his tongue along with her own. His tongue slid into her mouth and he tried to replicate what she'd done.
When Charity leaned back and broke off the kiss, Clay was panting. His hand was no longer on her breast, it hung by his side. Her hair covered one of her breasts, trailing down to the middle of her gray and pink panties. His eyes traced its fall, then came back up the other side. He was about to reach for her breast again when her hands moved towards his chest.
“We can't have this, you know? This isn't show and tell. You don't get to just look, you need to participate too,” she said.
Her hands quickly traveled down his shirt, opening the buttons. When it was unfastened, she pushed it off his shoulders.
While the shirt was sliding down, she stepped close again. Her arms went around his back, keeping the shirt from falling to the floor and trapping his arms behind his back. She pressed her breasts against his chest and shimmied them from side to side. Clay trembled and felt goosebumps rise along one side, the side that had her hair trapped between them. The soft feel of it brushing against his chest highlighted the skin on skin contact of the other side.
“Like that, do you?” she said. “Does it make you feel good, make you happy?”
Clay nodded mutely.
“I thought so, I can feel your reaction,” Charity said, grinding herself against his crotch.
Clay gave a short, sharp grunt and tried to pull back, but she wouldn't let him.
What is she doing? Okay that's a stupid question, I know what she's doing, but I thought she was only going to talk to me. Now what do I do? Give in with good grace or try to fight?
Clay's mind was split between the options. Giving in was tempting, oh so tempting. Fighting against what was happening was what he thought he should do though.
He was sure that his emotions were visible on his face. Charity was watching him and, apparently, she could read him easily. As he prepared to pull away, she leaned in and started nibbling on his lower lip. She started rubbing against him again as well and, somehow, she'd gotten more of her hair between them.
Clay's chest was covered with Charity's hair. As she rubbed herself against him all he felt was the silky hair stroking and soothing him. Her hands moved up to the back of his head, his shirt falling to the floor, and she kissed him as though she were trying to devour him. All the while she rubbed her breasts, and hair, against his chest and ground her pussy against his cock.
Clay surrendered.
* * *
He reached out and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close and crushing her against his body. Her large nipples were hard and poking through her hair. Their tips were firm, stabbing him in the chest and providing contrast for the silken hair pressed against the rest of his chest.
She was still kissing him fervently, but he pushed his tongue into her, forcing hers to retreat. His own tongue chased hers into her mouth as he returned her kiss with just as much urgency as she'd put into it.
Clay broke off the kiss first and she sighed with disappointment.
“Don't worry, I just want more than your lips,” he said.
He took Charity's hand and pulled her towards the couch. Once she was sitting down, he sat beside her and, brushing her hair out of the way, began to stroke her breasts. His head bent and he took a hard nipple into his mouth.
“Oh yes, that's nice,” Charity said, pushing her breast against his face.
Charity's hands wandered down to Clay's pants, unbuckled his belt, opened the snap, and undid the zipper. Then one of them dipped into his underwear and his cock was ecstatic to feel the soft flesh of her hand wrapped around it.
She gently squeezed his cock as he switched nipples and sucked on the other one for a while. His hands continued to stroke the flesh of her breasts. Either his mouth or his hands drew murmurs from her and he could smell her increasing arousal. The scent of her pussy was a strong, but pleasant, musk with a hint of something floral lurking beneath the main scent.
Clay slid one of his hands off of her breast, running it down her bare stomach. When he reached her panties, he slipped his hand inside of them and down farther. He could feel pubic hair, but it only covered a small area. Below it there was bare skin surrounding her slit. He ran a finger down her slit and back up. He slid his finger back down and pushed gently. She was wet enough that it slid right in.
Clay froze with his finger just inside of her pussy. Charity was squeezing his cock, hard. He stopped and paused, turning his face up to look at hers.
“Let's get the rest of our clothes off first, this is awkward,” she said. “Sorry for the squeeze, but it seemed the best way to get your attention.”
Clay nodded and slipped his hand out of her panties. Charity withdrew her own hand and finished getting naked. He took a few extra seconds to get to the same state, but as soon as he was nude her hand went right back to his cock.
He watched her for a moment, then put his hand on the back of her head and pushed her down towards his cock.
“I want your mouth on me instead of your hand,” he said.
She turned her head sideways to look at him.
“Oh Father, I didn't expect you to be so forceful. Especially after all the trouble to get you to this point.”
“Yes, well, you've
managed to unleash my demons again. Part of the reason I feel guilty is because I made my partners do things without asking.”
“Did they say no at all?” she asked.
He shook his head, then pushed on hers again.
“Now suck my cock.”
Charity gathered her hair up in her hand and proffered it to him.
“Here, keep this out of my way.”
Clay took her hair and as her lips surrounded his cock he found himself twisting her hair around his fist. He left it loose, for now.
I wonder what she'd do if I tried to use her hair like a leash, pull on it to get her to go where I want, do what I want? he wondered.
Clay's cock thrummed under Charity's attention. She slid her lips straight down his shaft, not stopping until she reached the bottom. He felt it when the head of his cock slipped into her tight throat instead of her looser mouth, but she didn't even pause. Once she hit the bottom, she drew her lips back up him.
She slid her mouth up and down his cock, sliding him into her throat on each stroke down. Clay had one hand tangled in her hair, but he moved his other one to her pussy again. He slid first one, and then a second, finger into her. She was wet enough that they both slid in with no problem, so he started moving them in and out, finger fucking her.
He knew that Charity appreciated his efforts. When he first slid his fingers in, she paused her head for a moment. Then after a minute or so she paused again, and pushed herself against his fingers, driving them deeper into her pussy.
Charity pulled her mouth off of his cock and started lashing the head of it with her tongue. It was a new sensation for Clay and he couldn't decide whether he liked it or not, but when he moved the hand holding her hair to the back of her head and pushed down, she slid him back into her mouth.
When Clay felt like he was getting close to cumming, he slid his fingers out of her pussy and searched for her clit. He found it and started playing with it, gently at first. He concentrated on that, not on the feel of his cock squeezing into her throat over and over.
Even distracted he was getting closer to cumming so he started playing with her clit rougher. Instead of gently brushing it, he pressed hard and wiggled the finger pressed against it. Then he started tapping on it with his fingertip. The closer her got to cumming, the harder he tapped. Charity mumbled something around his cock before pulling her mouth off of him.