Priestly Passions

"Dear God," he murmured to himself, his hot breath stirring the fragile fern that acted as his refuge. The collar around his neck began to tighten as his eyes roved over the exotic beauty perched precariously on a sun-beaten rock only a few feet from his hiding spot. He slipped a finger between his sweaty neck and the stiff collar as if it would help to regulate his now choppy breathing.

She truly was a delectable little thing. Her long, raven hair, wet from a recent dip in the pool beneath the rushing waterfall, was swept around the side of her body, covering most of her torso. Her limbs were long, classic in line, and colored a golden brown from the sun. It was her face, however, that caught his attention most with its full, pouty mouth set just below a small, upturned nose that might have been sprinkled with the lightest of freckles. Her cheeks were high and her eyes set wide, beautifully brown and fringed with unbelievably long lashes.

He was scared that if he blinked she'd disappear back into the pool of water from whence she came. So he stood there, behind the wide screen of fern, hunched over, breathing hard, watching. It seemed like hours before the beautiful girl stood, revealing her petite stature. She shook out her slightly damp chemise around her body and quickly slipped her high collared dress over her head, buttoning the tiny pearls into place down her back as she hurried off in the opposite direction.

The island wasn't large, he had no doubt in his mind that he'd be able to see her again. Wiping his brow with his handkerchief, he straightened his back, feeling the muscles spasm in protest. Careful not to leave a noticeable trail behind him, he hurried off in the same direction the girl had gone, giving one last glance to her fading essence on the rock.

---

Emily was late. She had spent too much time idling at the pool and now she was going to be in a great deal of trouble with her grandmother.

Hurrying through the back door of their small clapboard home, she rushed toward the kitchen, her skirts rustling around her loudly. Standing there, laden with two baskets full of food, her grandmother stared hard at her in admonishment.

"I'm sorry, Tutu, but I -" Emily began.

"Forgot the time again," her grandmother interrupted. The old woman shook her silver head, handing one of the heavy baskets to her granddaughter. "We're late. You look like a mess but we haven't any time for you to change. At least straighten your hair."

She did as her grandmother ordered, sweeping the great mass of black hair into a severe bun at the nape of her long neck. Emily followed after her grandmother as the old woman quickly shuffled out of the house and down the dusty street toward the church.

When they arrived at the small building, a tiny man in a black suit came to greet them. The humidity was atrocious, making him sweat profusely as he bowed and dabbed at his head with his dainty lace hankie.

"Mrs. McDonald," he said, his eyes shifty. "I'm afraid Father Horton is running a little late. He was supposed to be back a half hour ago and... oh, thank goodness, Father Horton!"

The two ladies turned toward the man who was rushing forward up the grassy hill that lead to the front of the church. His eyes were wide as he slowed his long gait and stopped directly in front of Emily.

"May I present our new community leader, Father Horton," the tiny man introduced. "Father, this is Mrs. Lydia McDonald and her granddaughter, Miss Emily."

The two ladies gave a dip of their knees and offered their baskets to the staring young man. He was wrapped up in Emily as if he'd never take his eyes off of her again. Tutu's rough throat clearing brought him back to reality.

"Oh, oh!" He exclaimed. "Please, forgive me, I'm unused to the heat and I... I... I'm terribly sorry."

Emily eyed the priest as he addressed her grandmother. He was fairly handsome with straw colored hair and bright blue eyes. He looked far too young to be a priest, but here he was, come to teach the heathens about Christ and the rest of the lot.

"Not to worry, Father Horton," Tutu was saying. "My dear Emily is always late for everything."

"Please, won't you come in and stay for a little bit," the priest asked, handing one of the baskets to the tiny man. "Geoffrey can make some tea."

"Perhaps next time," Tutu answered. "I'll send Emily tomorrow to check on you and we can set a time that's best for both of us."

Father Horton looked over at the young girl, his heart beating fast as he looked at her again. She was as beautiful up close as she was from afar. With her hair tied in a bun at the back of her neck, her stunning eyes loomed large in her heart shaped face. He could only nod and wave as the two ladies departed.

---

Emily stopped by the small church on her way to the pool. She found that Father Horton was not in and decided to leave the date her grandmother had set with Geoffrey. Then she made her way down to the secluded spot, stripping off the heavy material of her constricting dress before plunging head first into the clear water.

Climbing out of the water, she laid herself down on the nearest rock, feeling the warmth seep into her back as she stretched out. She wasn't aware that she was being watched from behind the low lying ferns that lined the area behind her, but when she flipped onto her stomach, her hands stacked beneath her chin, she caught a glimpse of something moving in the ferns.

"Hello?" she called. "Is anyone there?"

No answer. She frowned to herself, scanning the bushes as she sat up. Her chemise was stuck to her lithe body, molded to her lovely curves. Satisfied that there was nothing there, she slid back into the water, disappearing beneath the dark surface.

---

It felt like she'd been under the water for a very long time. He stood up and carefully approached the bank, his feet slipping on the wet rocks as he peered into the water. There wasn't a ripple in the pool that wasn't created by the jetting water coming over the high falls and his heart began to pound in his chest as he shouted, "Miss Emily?"

"Miss McDonald? Emily? EMILY??" he hollered before jumping into the water.

He broke the surface and went back down, his eyes having difficulty finding anything in the dark water. The sun did not seem to shine down very far and he was not use to the pounding sound of the waterfall invading all his senses.

Coming back up for air he was about to go under again when the raven head broke the surface a few feet from him. She came up just enough so her brown eyes with their spiky lashes showed. She blinked at him as if he were a dream, treading water with his blonde hair plastered to his head, completely clothed.

"You were down for so long, I thought maybe you'd drowned," he tried to explain calmly.

She blinked in response. Swimming a little closer to him, she stood, the water from her hair and her chemise raining down around her as she exposed herself from the knees up. "I'm afraid you'll drown, Father Horton, if you don't come onto these rocks."

He very well might have drowned. The sight of her body through the thin, wet material of her chemise made his heart constrict and his head seem light. Somehow he clamored toward her, grabbing the low shelf of rocks and sitting down, his head reaching just below her waist.

Emily bent down, laying a gentle hand on the priest's shoulder, she asked, "Are you alright, Father?"

Her hand was like fire, burning through his wet garments and searing his skin. He dared not look into her large eyes when he answered, "I'm fine, Miss McDonald. I'm grateful that you're well."

Her laughter was like a million stars bursting into his senses, creating havoc in him that made him want to drown so he wouldn't have to deal with the pain. She was laughing at him, her breathe warm upon his ear as she hunched down toward him.

"I've been coming here since I was a child, Father, there's no need to worry about me."

Temptation. She was so tempting he could not help but look up into those eyes. He sucked in his breath as he glanced at the slightly parted lips that invitingly beckoned to be kissed.

"Father?" Emily's voice entered into his sinful thoughts. "Father Horton?"

"Yes?" His eyes returned to meet hers. Bad decision, his thoughts only returning to where they had been.

Emily felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach as she leaned in closer to the priest. Her hand was still on his shoulder, her long fingers splayed across the rough fabric of his jacket. She began to massage him through his wet clothes as she brushed her breast against his arm. He was in some sort of trance, looking at her and pass her.

Emboldened by the lack of objection, she leaned closer and pressed her lips to his. It was a soft, innocent kiss, her lips meeting his, warm and supple. She could feel his breath catch in the back of his throat as she pulled away from him.

Waken from his sinful reverie, Father Horton pushed away from the low shelf, his cheeks red and angry as he stumbled out of the pool, hurrying away from the girl who had awaken things in him he had vowed to forget.

That night Emily laid awake in her slim cot, an ache in her belly as she stared at the ceiling thinking about the new priest. She remembered the feel of his broad shoulder beneath her small hand and the way his jacket's rough fabric had felt as it rubbed against her breasts. Her fingers traced the imprint of his lips still tingling upon hers.

The memory of his kiss made her secret core begin to get hot and wet. She rubbed her legs together in an attempt to make it go away, but it only worsened the tightness. The cool air coming in from the open window felt like heaven on her hot skin as she gently gripped her breasts, feeling her nipples start to harden under her own touch. With one hand, she continued to work on her breasts as the other crept down to explore the wet feeling between her legs.

Her finger found the folds of her sex were extremely slick and sensitive. She moved her hand, biting her lip because of the moan that threatened to escape when her finger bumped against a hidden nub of flesh. She pressed her palm against it, rolling her hand as she squeezed her breast until she felt a wave of heat wash over her, creating a hazy world of pleasure.

Emily fell asleep still gripping her breast, her palm shoved tightly in her panties.

---

It was a week before Father Horton came upon Emily in the marketplace. She was examining a hunk of beef as it hung from a large hook, bleeding onto the ground. He walked up beside her, hands clasped behind his back and said, "It looks too large for just you and your grandmother."

Emily glanced up at him, smiling, her cheeks stained a delightful pink. "Then I suppose we'll need to invite company over to share it with us, Father Horton. Would you like to join us tonight?"

"That's incredibly kind of you, Miss Emily, but I'm afraid I have another engagement," he answered, trying not to focus on the lips that had kissed him so lightly. "Perhaps tomorrow night would be better."

"Fine," she said, motioning for the meat to be readied. "We'll expect you at six then, Father."

"At six then, Miss Emily," he said, tipping his hat and making his way through the marketplace. He was glad it had not been as awkward as he had feared. Emily was a smart girl and she had handled herself well. It was a small incident, one that was easily forgotten, or so he hoped because for the past week all he could think about was Emily and her gentle little kiss.

By the time he was standing in front of the McDonald doorstep, he had come to think that the kiss was nothing more than just a simple thank you on Emily's part. When she opened the door he smiled at her in a paternal way as she took his hat and led him into the parlor where her grandmother chit-chatted until dinner was served. It was a lovely evening of light conversation and delicious food. He actually felt like all of those feelings he had for Emily just a week ago were part of a far away past.

After dinner, Emily offered to walk with Father Horton in the garden. He accepted, saying goodnight to Mrs. McDonald as Emily led him into the moonlight.

The moon bathed Emily in a silvery light, her hair shining brightly as she moved amongst the night blooming jasmine, the pikake, and the other sensuous blossoms. She hummed to herself as she walked, glancing over her shoulder at the man who strolled leisurely behind her.

"Father Horton?"

"Yes, Miss Emily?"

"Do you think it's sinful to think of someone all the time?" she queried.

"No," he replied, "I don't think that's sinful. I think of God all the time."

"Yes, but you think of him in an innocent way. What if you think about someone all the time and want to do things that aren't innocent."

He felt his palms begin to sweat. People had asked these questions of him before, but Emily was different. She was a girl of twenty, beautiful and innocent in a way that made his heart (and other parts) ache.

"In what ways?" He had asked the question before thinking.

"Hmm, well, it'd be easier if I just showed you." Emily came up from behind him, encircling his waist with her arms, laying her cheek upon his back. "Things like this, Father, with you. And... and other things."

"Like what?" His mouth and his mind were not working together.

Emily moved around him, her arms still around his middle, she came to face him. Her head barely reached his chin, forcing her to crick her neck to look up into his eyes as she said, "Naughty things, Father. I want to kiss you all over. At night, in bed, I think of you and I touch myself, wishing it were you. I want you to kiss me all over and -"

"Dear Lord," he moaned before settling his open lips onto hers. His tongue swept hotly through her mouth as he felt her go slack against him. He wrapped his own arms around her slight body, crushing her against him as he continued to ravage her mouth with his tongue.

He moved them toward a large tree, propping his back against it, he moved his knee between her thighs and lifted her a few inches off the ground. His mouth broke away from hers and he trailed a path of kisses toward her neck, gently sucking on her.

"Father Horton, mmm, yesss," Emily murmured, lacing her fingers through his hair.

"Andrew," he whispered against her heated skin. "Call me Andrew."

"Andrew," she sighed the name.

The spell was broken by the sound of the back door opening and slamming shut. Emily, a bright shade of red, and the priest, a pale shade of white, pushed away from one another just in time. Geoffrey rounded a large pikake bush in a dither, taking Father Horton away with no apologies, and leaving Emily aching for more of his touch. In an effort to cool down, she gathered a towel and slipped into her everyday dress then headed toward her pool. It was cool and refreshing against her burning skin. The blood in her veins began to stop pulsing as she floated on her back counting the stars as the night clouds rolled by.

Sleepy, Emily climbed onto her rock, the warmth of the day still trapped in it, she lay on her back and closed her eyes. Thoughts of Father Horton haunted her as she lay there, drifting in and out of sleep. His face floated above her, just beyond her reach, frustrating her and making her sad.

He saw her lying there, one knee crooked up, her hands behind her head. She was asleep, laying beneath the stars looking like a fallen angel. He made his way silently toward her, not wanting to wake her from her dreams as he shed his clothes.

Emily felt a warm sensation tingling through her breasts. She moaned, opening her eyes to find a blonde head bent over her chest. Her hands entangled themselves in the blonde mass as she lifted her breasts to the mouth that was suckling them.

"Andrew," she breathed, smiling down at the blue eyes that latched onto her. "How did you? mmm? How??"

He inwardly grinned at the way she could not finish a sentence with his tongue swirling around her nipple. He drew figure eights around her hard little buds, managing to spread her thighs and slip his body between them. Andrew lowered his kisses, his lips tracing downward across Emily's tight belly, plunging into her belly button through the wet fabric of her chemise.

Andrew pulled the wet fabric up, his hands rubbing along her outer thighs as the silky skin came into view, just as golden as the rest of her. He sucked in his breath as the sweet smell of her excitement reached his nostrils. Lowering his mouth, he settled his lips on the source of the scent, licking through the thin fabric of her white panties. He pushed his tongue in, feeling the fabric become taut as he tried to push through it.

Emily was moaning and trashing, pulling Andrew's hair as he moved the panties to the side, exposing her dripping, hot pussy lips to the cool air and his skillful tongue. She bucked her hips up, her legs clamping around his head as he licked her slit up and down, shoving his tongue into her tight box. Her legs squeezed him, making him lash at her pussy faster and deeper. The harder she gripped him with her thighs the faster he ran his tongue up and down her slick nether lips.

Andrew managed to get a grip on her legs, draping them over his shoulders, he tore off the impeding panties, tossing them on the rock beside them. He also ripped her chemise up the middle, laying the ruined fabric aside to bathe her hot flesh with the cool air. With his thumb and index finger, he exposed the tiny hooded nub that was now engorged, flicking his tongue against it and making Emily writhe in pleasure. He lashed out against it again and again, relentlessly until her legs began to shake and her head tossed from side to side non-stop.

"Andrew, please, oh, Andrew, don't? don't? STOP!" she screamed out the last as her orgasm drew her over a deep precipice. Her body was racked with unbelievable pleasure as Andrew continued to lap at her, easing one of his long fingers into her virgin pussy.

"Andrew," Emily breathed over and over as he began to ease his finger in and out, stopping at the barrier to her virginity. She did not know what she wanted, but she was begging for it: "Please, Andrew, please."

"Please what, my love?" he asked, planting kisses as he moved up her body again, his lips meeting hers in a deep embrace. "What do you want from me?"

Emily reached down between their bodies, grasping his hard cock and making him moan against her mouth. "I want this. I want to see it."

Both her hands were working on his cock as he added another finger, stretching her tight little box even wider, readying for his certain invasion. Emily scooted away enough to get a better look at the thing in her hands, her eyes wide at the sight that greeted her. "You're so beautiful, Andrew. It's? it's magnificent."

He colored slightly at the compliment, groaning and capturing her for another long kiss as she began to run her fingers up and down his hard shaft. He continued to finger her as she readied his cock to enter the hole he was busy lubing.

"I want you in me, Andrew, please," she murmured, moving her hand rapidly on his rock hard member. "I want to feel full of you."

"Dear God, Emily, your words make me crazy," he said, removing his fingers. He chuckled, saying, "You've got to let go of it, darling."

"Oh," was his answer.

"Put your arms around me," he ordered, positioning himself at her entrance. "Keep looking at me."

Andrew pushed his mushroom tip into the tight hole, feeling her muscles flex around him nearly made him plunge completely in, but he restrained himself, his ass cheeks tense from inching in. He kept his eyes fastened on the wide brown ones that looked up at him in question as Emily arced her hips up.

Gritting his teeth, Andrew commanded, "Don't move."