Impossibly Dreaming

His hand snaked up through the waters, ascending her thigh, and going higher as her breath became shorter. Taking another puff and shaking off the booze he'd already drunk, he thrust his finger to her slit and probed in with his finger.

"Nice," she said. Her canal was slick and he worked a second finger inside. A shiver passed through her body and her toes kneaded his testicles more urgently. He looked at her quizzically and inserted a third finger, she gasped and opened her legs, putting a wet foot on the ledge out of the water. Putting the cigar in his mouth, he puffed while rolling her erect nipple with his other hand; she shuddered and took another long drag on her own cigar, blowing the smoke in his face.

Her lubrication was good, and it seemed her opening could accommodate more, so the fourth finger joined the party beneath the froth. "Oh, Greggers," she moaned, "you're doing so well."

"Am I there yet?"

"No, but you're close."

Puffing his cigar and thinking, he started manipulating her breast more, squeezing it softly and pulling it up out of the water. Her legs parted even more than he could imagine, and curling his thumb into his palm, he pushed farther insider her. A gasp and a nod, and he curled the other fingers back, her breath coming in short gusts. Her eyes came open and she gave him an urgent look, asking, ordering, demanding, imploring.

It dawned on him what she wanted, and he made the last push that brought the welcoming embrace of her lower lips around his wrist. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," she screamed, her words echoing through the nave up and down for seconds after. "You've got it, you know what I want. Fist me, Greggers, fist me."

Working in and out, he fist fucked her slowly at first, building speed as her pelvis encouraged him to go faster, until sweat flew from his brow trying to please her. She put her drink down and clasped his hand on her breast, squeezing, and so he squeezed her huge boob hard while he pumped her. Her other hand squeezed her other breast, and she was lost in sensation, her cigar irrelevant in her hand away from the water.

Her breathing grew more rapid and her orgasm hit her quicker than he'd ever seen a woman orgasm before. Thrashing in the water, she slopped a fair amount over the side on the marble floor as she was lost in ecstasy. High above them, a lone bell rang out as she reached the pinnacle of her orgasm.

Holding him inside her until she was ready, she pulled him out when her breathing returned to normal. After she recovered, she took a long drag on her barely lit cigar and smiled at Greggers. "They're playing our song, Greggers dear."

He shook his head. "I'll never hear the evening Angelus bell the same again."

"You're so sweet, even though you're a creep," she said, her eyes almost brimming as she looked at him. "Shelley's been reluctant to push my limits, and your hand is bigger than hers. I've always wanted to be this full. Mmmmm, thanks, Greggers, that was the best present ever."

"You're welcome, Pookie." He rekindled his cigar and took a puff. "Reminds me of a clip I saw on YouTube, 'Fist Me for Christmas'. Never thought anybody'd really want that." He sent up a smoke ring, and mused. "So I guess you're interested in moving in, now?"

Pookie laughed out loud for several minutes, the merriment bouncing around the pillars. "Yes, you have a great grasp of the obvious. I think you can help Shelley's dream come true as well."

"Oh? Really?"

"Well, Shelley's a farm girl. Before she became a nun, she was interested in animal husbandry."

He gulped the rest of his brandy and took a long, slow drag from his cigar. "You're kidding?"

"Shelley's wanted her ass reamed by a huge donkey dick ever since I've known her. Since we can't go to the sex store in our habits, we haven't been able to get hold of a dildo big enough, and I hate wasting cucumbers."

"That sounds promising."

"Now for your reward, Greggers. Sit on the ledge and let me make your dream come true again."

He did as he was told, and she worked his shaft and balls up and down, slowly at first, then more and more urgently. Occasionally she took another pull from her cigar and a sip from her snifter before engulfing him again, and she finished by circling her tongue around his corona until he shot his load all over his face.

Unthinking, she ducked her head under the water wash the goo off her face. A look of horror came across her face after she came up "Oh my God, Greggers, did I just wash semen off my face with Holy Water?"

Fr. Greg was in the middle of a draw from his cigar, and his explosive laugh sent a huge cloud upward. "Don't worry about it, Pookie. I'll clean the thing out before I go to bed, and bless a new tankfull before Mass in the morning."