Summer Ch. 20

The vicar searched for the key for the drawer in an old and battered jar on his desk. As his fingers closed around the key and he could feel the tingle of anticipation in his loins he stopped and suddenly thought that before he settled down he had better make sure that the church was empty and the doors locked. Parishioners have no sense of humour when it comes to catching their vicar masturbating over a naked woman in a men only magazine.

He made his way through the darkening church, making his familiar evening rounds, switching off lights and locking doors behind him, making sure that all in his domain was locked down and closed tight. Turning behind the tiered wooden seats of the choir stalls he pushed open the door and walked into the robbing room.

Jenny was standing by her open locker, seemingly in the action of undressing. She had just pulled her heavy cassock over her head and was standing with her arms still in the garment, holding it against her chest. She had her back to him but she half turned at the sound of the door behind her. He froze in the doorway as she stood before of him, dressed only in her knickers, the cassock still in her hands.

She stood stock still, unmoving, frozen in time; her head lowered demurely, holding the cassock tight against her, her eyes fixed on the ground. Neither moved, his heart, like time, had stopped, crushed by the sudden constriction in his chest. The seconds ran on and time elongated as his eyes, unbidden, followed the smooth shape of her white shoulders, slightly hunched as she clutched the cassock to her chest. Followed the long travel down her back, alabaster flushed with pink, the soft line of her backbone tantalisingly bisected by the marks of her bra strap, although, he noticed with another jolt, that if she had been, she was now no longer wearing one. His eyes moved on, down over the slight flair of her hips to the smoothly rounded curve of her delightful bottom, each cheek a softly rounded handful, pleading to be fondled and his hands twitched and curled with sudden and acute desire. The smell of sulphur filled his nostrils.

He noticed that her white floral print knickers had ridden low at the back and the shadowy crease of the beginning of her cleft that divided those heavenly cheeks could be clearly seen. His eyes followed the line down, hidden beneath the soft cotton but the indent still easily visible until it disappeared into the shadows between her legs. He licked his lips at the thought of what forbidden delights lay hidden in that warm and inviting darkness between her legs. He shuddered with desire at the thought, his penis rising suddenly and painfully in the confines of his trousers. He stood transfixed, his eyes staring, his blood roaring in his ears. In the subdued light he took in every curve, every nuance and texture of her body.

Slowly and demurely, almost without moving, she unhurriedly turned to face him. His world cart wheeled as he stood rock still, holding onto the door frame for support as the moment unfolded, almost dreamlike, around him. She looked up at him, her eyes impenetrable pools of pure liquid black and his world shattered as he stared back at her, crashing and burning around him. His lifetimes defences were completely overwhelmed, his penis screamed for attention and his hands were clenched so tightly that his fingernails were driving into his palms. She looked back at him, seeing his discomfort, his despair and disarray and her face betrayed nothing, her dark eyes empty and expressionless.

"I'm sorry," he said at last, his voice cracking, sounding loud in the small room. His cheeks flushed a furious red as her eyes met his.

"I thought everyone had gone, I... I was just checking."

His hands fluttered ineffectually, indicating the silent, empty body of the Church behind him.

She did not answer or even acknowledge him, she simply stood and stared; until slowly, without a sound, the cassock seemed to slip through her fingers, sliding down her body like an unveiling, a single, soft susurration of cloth to pool on the floor at her feet.

Time stood still in that moment, he stood in the doorway and looked at her, shocked beyond reason. His eyes transfixed by the roll of her breasts, her nipples roseate and hard in the soft light, soft buds tipping her swelling breasts; her firm, flat, stomach tapering down to the deep shadowy 'v' where her thighs joined; the shape and fullness of her sex outlined by the soft material of her knickers.

She looked at him, her hands, still redundantly held between her breasts from where they had let the cassock fall, her eyes silent and defiant, somehow slightly amused at his obvious disorientation and confusion. He made to speak but his mouth had gone dry. She looked back at him, perfect, statuesque, the shallow rise and fall of her breasts her only sign of engagement in the moment.

He took a halting, hesitant, step into the room. She never moved, her eyes fixed on his, watching him like some fixed and rooted bird of prey. He took another step on unsure and leaden feet. He was closer to her now, could almost feel the heat emanating from her body, a palpable warm. She finally, almost defiantly, lowered her hands to her sides her eyes betraying nothing. Her breasts stood high and proud on her chest, her nipples erect; the noise in his head was deafening, with agonising slowness he raised his hand towards her until his trembling fingers mere inches from her hard pink nipple.

The peal of easy laughter rang clear in the soft night air; followed by the rush of excited voices from the body of the church behind him. He halted, his hand outstretched. His breath came out as a soft hiss and his hand dropped impotently to his side. Another rush of voices came through the door from behind him and tearing himself away from the near naked girl he reluctantly took a step backwards. Her eyes followed him, still defiant, slightly mocking.

Stepping outside he closed the door quietly behind him, his knees suddenly weak, his breath hard and tight in his chest. The sound of voices was louder now and he shook his head, desperately trying to pull himself together, straightening his pants and trying to hide his erection. Tearing himself away from the room and scene inside he hesitantly, shakily, made his way around the corner and into the body of the church.

She listened to his receding footsteps, his distinctive heavy footfall and she stared at the closed door. It was not until the silence returned that she kicked the cassock casually to one side and turned to continue dressing.

------

The situation had completely and utterly unmanned him; in the days that followed he found he could think of little else other than her firm young body, her perfect high riding young breasts with their pink erect nipples, the deep and enticing v where her legs met. He fantasised about her incessantly and he carried an almost constant erection and had to be careful to keep it concealed although his voluminous black cassock could almost have been designed for just such a purpose.

And she seemed to be around him all the time, wherever he was, helping at the Church both before and after the services; at all the church functions as a member of the congregation and also as a senior member of the church Girl Guide group and choir; she was haunting him, he could not avoid her, she seemed to be there every time he turned around, her calm stare looking back at him, taunting him, exciting him, turning him on.

In response he masturbated like a man possessed, his devils riding him until his hand was a blur; taking every opportunity to slip away and make himself cum, fishing his rigid shaft out of his trousers with relish and stroking himself while imagining Pat naked and compliant beneath him. But despite his desperation there was no opportunity to get her alone, he had to be careful, he could not afford to be caught. And whether by design or accident she always seemed to be surrounded by people, chaperoned and inaccessible; and always her eyes, watching him, laughing at his impotence to make good his desires.

Eventually, as the weeks passed, his passion failed to cool but instead became a cold and implacable obsession. Frustration became calculation, calculation allowed calm. He began to watch and plan, he knew it was only a matter of time before he managed to find her alone and then he would have her. He just needed the patience to wait for the opportunity to present itself.

It was only a few days later that he noticed that the curtains were open in the church hall as he drove past. It took him a moment to remember that the Guides had asked for the keys to go in and get their kit ready for a short camping trip they were planning. He also remembered that they had booked a few days use of the grounds behind the church itself that they always used as their local camping grounds. He had intended to check out the campsite when they were on the chance that she would be there but on an instinct he pulled his car into the church hall drive and parked.

The main doors to the hall were unlocked and he let himself in. The hall at first appeared disappointingly empty but then he noticed that the trapdoors to the space beneath the stage was propped open and he could hear the muffled sound of voices coming faintly from inside. He walked over to the front of the stage, his footsteps echoing noisily in the empty hall and the voices fell silent.

"Hello?" he called and he heard the sound of movement from somewhere under the stage, he heard hurried whispers.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" he called again and suddenly a head popped up through the trapdoor. He recognised Sue as one of the other senior guides from the troop.

"Hello," he said, "are you here on your own?"

Sue smiled, "Hello Vicar. No, I'm not. My sister Jackie is here," and as if on cue Jackie's head appeared in the second trapdoor alongside her. The trapdoors, which were set into the floor of the stage, were heavy contraptions and over the years someone had designed a couple of supporting struts that could prop the doors open for light and ventilation for anyone working under the stage. It was these struts that held the doors open now.

Unfortunately the doors could only be propped open enough to allow the girls heads and shoulders to show and consequently the two disembodied heads resembled a Punch and Judy show rather than real people.

"Hello Vicar," Jackie offer, smiling. "We're getting the equipment ready for a camping trip for next week."

He nodded and smiled back, "Hello Jackie. I know about the trip. You're using the woods behind the Church. I've just signed the papers."

"Papers?" Jackie looked confused.

"Don't worry about it," the Vicar answered, "you have to rent the woods from me if you want to use them."

"Oh," Jackie looked at her sister, "I didn't know."

"No reason that you should my dear." He said condescendingly, " are there only the two of you? I would have thought that there would have been more of you, some of those tents are very heavy."

"Pat said she would be here soon. Three of us will be fine."

"Pat?" the vicar asked his interest suddenly peaking. "Pat Jackson? From the choir?"

"Yep," Jackie answered, "said she would be here. We're expecting her any time now."

The vicar paused and licked his lips, looking around. Slowly and ponderously he walked across and picked up a folding chair, returning to his spot n front of the low stage. He sat down and settled himself like a stage director in the empty hall. The two girls exchanged glances and Sue ducked back under the stage.

"She's getting something to kneel on," Jackie offer and after some shuffling Jackie rested her chin on her arms and Sue's head reappeared.

"Sorry, just getting something to kneel on. Floors a bit hard on the knees and the stage is just a bit too high without something to kneel on."

"That's alright," the vicar offered, his overheated imagination suddenly conjuring up the image of what he knew to be two very attractive bodies that were lost to view beneath the stage. He could feel himself growing hard at the thought and he crossed his legs, enjoying the now familiar feeling of his growing erection. Since Pat had offered herself in just her knickers his mind had been constantly alight with sexual images of every woman he had come into contact with. He realised with a smile that his obsession with sex was now totally out of hand.

He coughed and taking his time he rearranged his cassock over his growing embarrassment. He looked up at the girls and realising that his tell tale erection was below their line of sight he relaxed. He slipped his hand into the false pocket in his cassock that lay behind the real pockets and which gave him access to his trousers and with a small sigh of contentment he quietly unbuttoned his trousers. Looking around he slowly pulled himself out and gently began to stroke his shaft as he let his mind dwell once again on his recent meeting with a semi nude Pat.

The conversation with the girls drifted, his interest focused on his hand on his shaft and his eyes on the door waiting for Pat to arrive. The girls folded their arms on the stage in front of them and rested their chins on them as the vicar droned on. He was lost in the sensations that were growing as he slowly kept on stroking himself. The secret pleasure he was giving himself and knowing the risk he was taking made the pleasure more intense. In fact he was so wrapped up in his own pleasure that he did not notice the growing discomfort of the two young women. Sue in particular seemed to be suffering more than her sister from the dust and the heat under the stage

.

She seemed restless, jittery, unable to settle and a number of times she seemed to almost drop from sight, as though her legs were incapable of holding her up. She looked flushed and hot, resting her head on her arms on the edge of the stairs. Had he been less erect he would have made the short journey to the edge of the stage to see what was wrong but his erection was too obvious and besides he was enjoying the sensations of pleasuring himself. He was thinking of Pat and not Sue and Jackie. Attractive as they were they were unknowns whereas Pat had staked her claim on his attentions by disrobing in front of him.

His mind constantly ran back and forth over the scenario and he cursed the people in the Church, the ones who had returned unexpectedly. His mind was alive with the possibilities of what would have happened if they had arrived even ten minutes later when his hand would have been able to complete its journey and claim her young and extremely beautiful breast.

His mind was occasionally pulled back to the conversation with the two sisters in front of him although every time he did he noticed that their situation seemed to have deteriorated. He began to idly wonder whether Sue was drunk, she was sweating, her eyes looked glazed and she could barely keep her feet. Under normal circumstances he would have investigated, made them come out and explain themselves; but he did not want any problems that would not leave him free to deal with Pat when she arrived. Normally the problem of having to take a drunk young woman home in his car would have been a God given opportunity, especially when he could have conjured a hundred excused to dump her sister and thereby get Sue alone but he was fixed on Pat and he glanced back at the door wondering where she was. Looking up he suddenly noticed that Sue had in fact disappeared below stage at some point and he hadn't noticed, he was just about to comment when Pat arrived. Throwing the door open almost at a run she burst into the hall like a miniature whirlwind.

Calling Jackie's name she headed for the stage before she saw Jackie standing with her head out of the trapdoor. Confused she slowed slightly in her headlong rush. "Hi," she said cautiously, leaning over to catch her breath. "What's happening? Are you alright?" She saw Jackie staring pointedly past her and still confused she turned to follow her gaze.

"Hello Patricia," he said, rising from his seat like some prophecy of doom made mortal and slowly he turned to face her, a strangely depreciating smile of triumph on his lips.

Pat froze, "Hello Mr Green," she said, suddenly subdued as if the very sight of him had robbed her of her will.

"I've just been talking to Jackie and Sue," waving a large hand vaguely in their direction as if it were not obvious who he was talking about. "I understand you are here to help them."

Pat nodded but added with a sudden desperation, "Actually I'm here to apologise, I've got to get home, my Mum needs me to help her." She looked around the Vicar and pulled a face at Jackie, "Sorry," she said, "she just sprang it on me." Jackie smiled back at her, a strange sort of distracted smile but she told her it was OK and not to worry.

"Are you leaving now?" the Vicar asked moving with surprising speed for such a large man and placing himself between Pat and the door, effectively ending any thoughts of flight that she may have been harbouring.

Looking around and realising her predicament Pat nodded. "She's waiting," she offered apologetically. The Vicar collected his chair and placed it carefully back against the wall.

"I'll walk out with you," he said, "I really have to go as well." He turned back toward the stage and waved a curt farewell to Jackie before taking Pat by the arm and walking her out of the hall. He did not hear the heartfelt 'Fuck!' as Jackie's head slumped forward onto her arms or hear the short cry of surprise as she also suddenly disappeared back under the stage as if snatched away.

With his hand gripping her upper arm the vicar propelled Pat out into the small vestibule just outside the main hall. A few abandoned coats and an old scarf still adorned the pegs around the walls. Still retaining his grip on her he sat heavily on to one of the benches that were stacked there.

"I want to talk to you," he said, pulling her closer.

"What about?" she said, standing quiet and surprisingly unresisting before him.

"You know what about," he said, letting her go; and she stood back, trying to put herself out of his reach. "Parading yourself naked in the vestry the other day."

"I wasn't 'parading myself'," she said beginning to quietly prepare her defence, "you walked in on me. I didn't know you were there."

"Stop lying," he said bluntly, cutting through the arguments she was constructing in her head, "you knew I was there. You dropped your cassock on purpose, you exposed yourself knowing I was there, that I could see you, so that I could get a good look at you. You thought I was a safe man to expose your body to didn't you?" he said, his voice harsh and insistent and Pat backed away suddenly fearful of the huge man in front of her. "The vicar," he continued remorselessly, "a man of God, what could he do if you exposed your body to him? Nothing! He's just an impotent old man you thought and you took great delight in showing yourself off didn't you? Flashing your body and your breasts. You were teasing me."

Pat turned her back on him, pretending to read the dusty notices haphazardly pinned to a board on the wall, her confidence had suddenly evaporated and she didn't know how to handle the situation and the man, his position, his power and his sheer size dominating her.

"I wasn't teasing," she said, her voice shaking slightly, betraying her new found fear, "you misunderstood, you took me by surprise."

He stood up and moved closer behind her, his breath hot and moist rasping against her ear and she stiffened as she felt his nearness behind her, hard up against her.

"Misunderstood? You were naked! You only had your knickers on. You were teasing," he repeated, "and I am not a man lightly to be teased."