Dream Cottage Ch. 03

I spent the day in the garden, doing general autumn tiding. And the evening was just relaxing with a book. Wednesday morning was also a non-event, not just because it was raining, but it was one of those days when everything you touch just goes wrong. Nothing of any real consequence, but just one of those days when you feel down. Eventually came the time when I needed to set off to see the vicar, and reluctantly, I set off to the village hall.

I'd read the vicar's note which Adam had given me, and now as I parked my car, I was about to follow his instructions.

Apparently, at the back of the grounds of the village hall, there is a gate which leads to a pathway through a small wooded area. And only a hundred yards further on, at the other end of this pathway, the gate then lets you into the graveyard behind the church. And being as by road, the church and village hall are on different roads, some mile and a half apart, the vicar wanted me to park at the village hall, and then take this pathway, and enter by the vestry door at the back of the church.

In this manner, if anyone saw my car at the village hall, they wouldn't connect me, with the vicar whose car was parked in the church car park. Especially as, both of these gates would normally be pad-locked. But the vicar had said he'd make sure they were both unlocked today.

And as I reached the first gate, the pad-lock was just looped through the chain, giving the impression of being locked, whilst allowing me easy access. This was the same at the second gate, and I was soon opening the vestry door. This was a big very thick wooden door, and it creaked on its hinges like a castle door in a horror movie. As I walked in, the noise had alerted the vicar, and he came over to meet me.

"Come in my dear, I'll lock that behind you. We don't want to be disturbed."

And so he locked the door, and put the big key back onto the hook on the wall. As I looked around this big stone walled room with its heavy oak tables and just one leather padded chair, a shiver went down my spine. This is a church; and I'm in the back room, one that is normally used by couples as they sign the register, on completion of their marriage ceremony. The thought of having sex, and illicit sex at that, with a vicar, felt overwhelmingly irreverent.

As I looked at the vicar's face, he must have recognised my concern, "Why so down my dear? After the lecture I gave your husband on Sunday, I'd have thought you'd have come to this task god has given you, with a glad heart."

"Oh please vicar; don't say things like that. This is bad enough already without blaspheming."

"Blaspheming? I'm not doing anything of the sort. God gave me these urges, and he also worked out our lives so our paths would cross, at a time when you would be made available to fulfil my needs. We shouldn't try to fathom out his reasons, but when called upon, we should give graciously. Now come on, I'll take you to where we'll do it."

So without questioning his somewhat self-centred reasoning, I followed him into the church proper. This didn't feel right, and I just knew I wouldn't be able to get aroused, and therefore it would be a really difficult time. We passed the altar, and then went in between the two rows of tiered seating for the choir.

And then he opened the little half gate into the choir stalls, and behind the back row of seating, pushed the wooden panel as at the same time he turned a candle holder on the wall. The panel moved, and the large panel to the right swung open like a door.

The vicar turned with a big smile on his face, obviously wanting to see my reaction. "You didn't expect that, did you my dear?"

I didn't speak, but just stood there and shook my head. It was dark the other side of the now open panel, and I didn't like the thought of going in there. But the vicar just turned back and ducking his head, stepped inside. Almost as soon as he'd done so, the room lit up. I couldn't see much as the panel was lower than a normal door, and not as wide, but from what I could see, there was shelving on the walls and boxes on the floor.

I'd stopped outside in the middle of the aisle, and I'd expected the vicar to beckon me to follow him in. But not looking forwards to going in there, I was hesitantly just waiting and looking. Then as I watched the opening, out came a wooden bench. And by the time it was half way out, the vicar who was carrying it re-appeared.

It was wide in parts, and the vicar had to manoeuvre it carefully through the narrow opening. But from the dexterity he displayed, I guessed he'd done this before. He carried the bench out and placed it on the floor right in the space in front of the altar.

And now I could see the bench properly, I'll describe it. Because it wasn't your everyday, common or garden variety. In fact I've never seen anything like it before nor since.

It stood about eighteen inches off the floor on stout wooden legs. It was covered in red velvet, with brass studs holding the cloth to the sides. And under the velvet, it was padded out in strategic positions. And worryingly, there were also leather straps and buckles in ominous places.

"Right my dear, I know its not super warm in here, but I've had the heating on all morning. That was why I told you not to come until twelve. But at least it's taken the damp chill off. So if you'd like to get undressed."

I took off my coat, and looked where I should put it; it seemed so disrespectful just dumping it on the floor.

He lifted across a small padded stool, "Here you are my dear. We won't be at it long enough for them to get creased. I'm not one of your young bucks you know."

So gradually I stripped off until I was naked, and then he held his hand out and guided me to the bench. He sat me down, and then lay me back, taking each arm in turn, and strapping me down with the leather restraints around my wrists. He then lifted my feet, and this positioned my bottom up onto one of the padded areas.

Then came a big surprise.

He reached under the side of the bench, and swung out a beam diagonally upwards, hinged from a position somewhere under the bench, around the position my bottom was in. This also had its own leather strap, which was soon buckled around one ankle. And then he repeated the same the other side.

So now I'm held spread-eagled in front of the centre of the altar, my open legs facing the main part of the church where the congregation would normally be seated.

Then the vicar walked past me up to the altar, where he picked up his stole, kissed it, and said his blessings; very much in the same manner as he would do on a Sunday morning, at the start of the service.

He made his way around to the valley of my legs, where he then began to pour the contents of a gold gobbet onto my pubic mound. As it touched my flesh, it ran in both directions. That is to say, down across my tummy, and also into the valley of my pussy.

It initially struck cold on my naked flesh, but in seconds, he'd placed the gobbet down and was busy working the oily liquid into my pussy.

What the substance was, I have no idea, but as well as being oily, it instantly began to inflame my pussy. Which then began to throb, and a few seconds later it was pouting wildly.

He stood up, and raised his hands, and chanted something. I couldn't understand a word of what he'd said, so I assumed it must have been Latin. This whole thing was so bizarre; like some kind of pagan ritual, with me as the sacrifice.

And then after one last blessing which I could understand, "May the lord make me truly thankful for what I am about to receive. Amen."

He lifted his cassock to reveal his naked lower body, with his cock standing proud.

I needn't have worried about not being able to get aroused, because as soon as his cock began probing my hole, my body began to heave uncontrollably. He fucked slowly, with deep plunging strokes, and my senses were uncontrollable.

It was fairly obvious that whatever that liquid was, it was that, which was responsible for my arousal, and trance-like state. But I wasn't the only one who was under a spell. As the vicar was humping away, his face was pointing up to the church roof; as he again chanted gibberish.

So with us both otherwise engaged, as you might say, I guess it's not surprising that neither of us noticed Len! Well, I guess we did eventually. But not until he'd unlocked the main church door, entered and re-locked it, and made his way to where the vicar and I were hard at it.

And even then, it was only the flash and the popping noise of his flashbulb as he took pictures of us. I don't know how many he'd taken before the penny dropped, but as I realised, it transported me down to earth with a bump.

But the vicar either hadn't noticed, or wasn't concerned. As he kept pumping and chanting.

I cried out, "Vicar stop. Stop please. Wake-up vicar."

It seamed it didn't matter what I said, or how loud I called out. And as I looked at Len's face, he was smiling with a devilish grin. I began to think this had all been arranged, and the vicar was enjoying my plight as much as Len was.

And then the vicar froze. He went rigid, not even pulling his cock out. Only his head turned.

And then he spoke, "Lenard. What are you doing? How long have you been there?"

It was as if he'd just woken-up.

Len lowered his camera, and through the biggest smile I'd ever seen, he said, "It's alright reverend; you finish your business. I can wait for my turn."

The vicar's cock had already gone soft, and slipped out, even though I don't think the vicar had yet moved.

"What are you doing? How did you get in?"

Len held up a big key, "You gave me this last Christmas, so as Garry and me could sort out the heating. And as for what I'm a doing, I'm gonna be the next one to fuck the little lass there. And don't go getting any ideas about telling pc plod or his pal. I know you and that pair think you've got sole rights to this lass. But if one word of this gets to either of those two, I'll make sure both your wife, and the bishop get all these photos I've just taken."

By now the vicar had dropped his cassock, and was stood alongside me, facing Len. "Look Lenard; you have to let me have the film out of your camera. If that got into the wrong hands, I don't know what would happen."

"I do. Your wife would divorce you, and the bishop would sack you."

"This is no laughing matter. Give me that film or you'll be sorry."

"Don't you take that tone with me. I might work for you, but it's me who's cracking the whip now. Either you do as I tell you or your life on easy street is gone for good."

"But."

"But nothing. You listen to me, or I'm off now."

"But Lenard. We've been friends for years; you wouldn't do that to me, surely?"

"You weren't showing much friendship when you set PC plod onto me."

"But that's different, you were raping Mrs Theabold."

"So what are you doing now, giving her bible classes? Don't you come the old friends act with me. It's one law for you lot, and another for us workers. Well for once, I've got you by the balls, and you'll do as you're told, or I'll rip them off. Now if you're not going to finish your fuck, I'll take my turn."

At this point, he pushed his camera into the pocket in his shirt front, and was doing up the button as he continued, "And don't you try getting my camera out of my pocket; otherwise I'll break your fucking wrist."

"Lenard! Language! You're in the house of god."

"Ha. And little notice you took of that when you were fucking little Jill there."

Then looking at me, "Talking of which, are you ready for this?"

What could I say; I was trussed up, and couldn't prevent him doing anything he wanted.

So in an attempt to regain a little dignity, I said, "I won't struggle or try to stop you, but please, will you release me from this contraption he's got me strapped into?"

"I'd like to, in fact, I've got a mind to take you up into his pulpit, and have you bent over the front while I fuck you from behind. But I think I'd better just unload my balls first, we can take our time and play around once I've had my first fuck."

And that was what he did, dropped his trousers, and with the vicar stood there looking helpless, he fucked like a thing possessed. He cum in less than three minutes, ramming his cum hard into my pussy.

And then, as he stepped back, out came his camera, and he took a couple more pictures of my pussy as his cum seeped out.

"Ok rev, do you want to finish your turn, or shall I un-strap her?"

I could tell he wanted to, but I think he was too embarrassed to get an erection. But that's only me guessing.

He didn't reply to Len, but just waved his hand sideways as he shook his head. Len put his camera away, and came across, and un-strapped me, and then leading me by my hand, did as he'd said.

He took me up the steps into the big wooden pulpit, and pushed me forwards, so my breasts were hanging over the front, and I was looking at the empty pews where the congregation would sit. And as I braced myself with arms outstretched either side of me, he pumped up hard into my pussy.

This was a slower and gentler pace, and the wickedness of the situation soon got to me. I was imagining the congregation down there looking as he pumped hard and long. And in a wicked semi-conscious state of mind I began to verbalise the feelings Len was generating.

The church was echoing to my oow'ing, ahhr'ing and other moaning sounds. Len was laughing out loud, and the vicar's face was a picture to behold. He hated every moan, and this just excited me all the more.

When Len came, I was in a state of delirium, and my orgasm took him by surprise, as my pussy gripped his cock, he let out a cry to wake the dead.

"FUCKING Jesus! OH YOU FUCKING HELL YES. OHH YES. FUCKING GO GIRL GO."

But it wasn't just him who let out screams, apparently so did I, maybe not so loud, but the same stupid kind of words, "Yes fucking yes. Ohh yes. And again. Ohh yes. Fuck it hard."

The vicars face as I dressed! It was like I was the whore from hell, and he was looking with such disgust.

Len picked up on his scowling and said, "What's up rev, you look like you've just found a shirt button in the collecting tray."

I know I shouldn't, but I giggled out loud to that.

It was only a few minutes later, that the vicar let me out of the vestry door, and he'd not spoken a word since Len had taken over the days events.

The next morning was spent out in my garden, not really doing much, but just looking at my new hive. Being cold, there was no real activity, so I took to gathering up old rotting fruit windfalls. Around eleven I went into the house for a tea break, and it was then I heard the bell in the garden; I'd forgotten to change the switch back.

I walked to the front door, and conscious of the events of the last few days, I popped in the safety chain Adam and Stuart had fitted for me. As I peered through the gap in the door, there stood Len; still on the outside of the porch door.

I called through the gap, "What d'you want?"

"I want to talk to you a minute, can you open this door?"

"I'm not coming out there. That door isn't locked, if you've got something to say, you can come into the porch and talk to me through this gap."

He opened the outer door and came right up to the door where I stood, "Not very friendly today, are we?"

"Say what you've got to say and go."

"But I thought we were a team. I mean I saved you from that randy vicar, and between us, we taught him a thing or two."

"You cheeky bastard. You were as bad as him. In fact, all you men are the same. Now go away, or I'm picking up the phone and calling Adam. That's constable Yardley to you."

"I know who fucking Adam is, and I know what you and him have been getting up to. So don't come the high and mighty with me."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of camera film, "Had you forgotten I've still got this? I'll bet your husband would be interested in seeing it."

"You wouldn't?"

"Why wouldn't I? If you're gonna make me out to be a liar in front of my mates, I'll show you in your true colours to your husband."

"I'll tell Adam. He says even if he can't get you for doing something to me, he can always find something to fit you up and get you sent to prison."

"You can't scare me like that. I've had enough of this fucking county anyway. All I've got to do is drop this in an envelope and leave it with Roy at the train station, he'll make sure nobody but your husband gets it. Then I'll hop on a train and move on to York or some other town with real women in it."

Now I didn't know if this was just bluff, or if he really was ready to leave the area. I mean he is single, and if he did just leave, he was right, there would be nothing Adam could do. And the stuff on that film was definitely something I didn't want my Jim to see.

So feeling I was once again backed into a corner, I reluctantly asked, "What is it you want?"

"That's better. Now open the door and let's talk properly."

"No, I'm not opening this door, until you've given me that film, and I've thrown it into the fire."

"What? I'm supposed to hand it over, and trust you to open up once the evidence is gone? What d'you take me for?"

"It's the same the other way. But I don't tell lies. If I make you a promise, I know I'll be duty bound to keep it. But you; you said yesterday, that those photos were just to get the vicar to let you have sex with me. And you did that yesterday. No way was it a licence to keep coming back every day, and bringing anyone you wanted with you."

I'd added the last part, because I could see he'd got Garry and Trevor sitting in the car in the drive.

"Ok. Say I let you have this, are you saying you'll open up, and let us come in and fuck you?"

"Oh no. You've done it once, and I'm not letting you near me again."

"Well fuck you then."

"I thought you were worried about what your stupid friends out there, thought of you?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Well if I was to let them come in, and maybe wank their cocks. I mean, that way, they'll be happy, and you won't lose face."

"A wank? They won't be happy with just a wank."

"Well they'll just have to be. Cos I'm not agreeing to anything else."

"Shit! What the fucks got into you? You weren't like this yesterday. Look, if you won't fuck, what about a sixty-nine?"

"Sixty-nine? An ice-cream?"

He let out a raucous laugh. "No you twat. That's a ninety-nine. I said sixty-nine. You know what that is, don't you?"

I felt so embarrassed, because I didn't know, and had never heard of one. I didn't actually answer, but just shook my head.

"Don't come it with me. You must know. Sixty-nine, the man has his cock in your mouth, while he's got his head in between your legs licking your twat out."

And then he held his slightly curled hands with inverted palms against each other, "Sixty-nine. Get it?"

I didn't get it as he put it. In fact it was weeks later when I saw the numbers six and nine next to one an other on a piece of paper that the penny dropped. But not wanting to sound stupid, I nodded as if to say I knew what he meant.

I obviously knew what he wanted me to do with his friends, but just not why they called it sixty-nine.

"So you'll go for a sixty-nine with both Trev and Gaz?"

"No, of course I won't. I told you, I'll do their cocks in my hand, but that's as far as I'll go."

"That won't cut it, unless they get a feel as well."

"Maybe they can put their hands inside my bra while I'm doing it to them."

"This is fucking stupid, either you get naked, and let them feel you while you wank them, or this goes to your old man, that's my final offer, take it or leave it."

"Look, if I let them feel me. How will I know they'll keep their word?"