Susie Sells Papers! Ch. 08

Fr. Christian Farnsworth met Susanna Cox at a small coffee house near the Chancery on a grey, wet day. He snagged a double latte at the counter before beckoning her to follow him out to the door and into his Camry.

"Something different today, Susie. Something for both of us, but I'll need your cooperation."

"You've got it, Chris. Why do you need my cooperation?"

He started the car and slid into traffic, heading for an older part of town. "It's a group of priests that want your services, but don't want to meet you in person. They're part of a prayer group that meets Tuesday mornings, and today they want their prayers answered a bit more literally than usual."

"So, how're we going to pull this off?"

"We're going to an old school next to St. Athanasius parish. In the basement, they're an old nun's bathroom with a hole in the wall at the right place. . ."

Susie gave him a huge, dimpled smile: "And you want to use it as a glory hole?"

"Yes."

"What a wonderful idea. Why are you here?"

"Well," he said, pulling onto a side street that led to a twin spired church. "I want to watch, but I don't want they to know I'm watching."

She cocked her eyebrows at him. "Maybe you'd like a couple for yourself?"

"No, no, no," he said, "I don't like any of these guys; you're better off not meeting them in person, but it would turn me on to watch you give them blow jobs."

Passing around the church, he found a gate open next to the run down school next door. The car turned to hide behind a solid stone wall, remnant of sunnier days between the World Wars. He led her through a door he unlocked and down a staircase to a damp, dingy cubicle 10 feet square, with an antique throne and a cock sized hole in the wall. "Make no indication I'm here," he murmured in her ear, "and use this. It will save you some work." He handed her a small spray dispenser of breath freshener. "This will make their dicks tingle while you suck them, and make them finish sooner."

"How do you know, Chris?"

He winked, "Personal experience. I'll let them know we're here." Whipping out his cell phone, he sent a short text message and flipped it shut.

Susie took off her coat and put on her elbow length black silk gloves. She was wearing a low cut green dress, with a gold crucifix around her neck. Pearl earrings graced her lobes, and a small chain on her left wrist.

Five minutes and a cock peeked through the wall. It was average sized and circumsized, mostly erect and barely damp. She cradled it in her hands, rubbing it slowly and reverently for a minute before flicking out her tongue to tease the head. The touch brought a groan from the other side of the wall. A spritz, and she engulfed the head in her mouth, licking and sucking all around it. He thrust his pelvis against the hole, and his balls appeared beneath his member. A gloved hand teased those curves and twirled the salt and pepper pubic hair that covered them. He groaned again, and she went into overdrive, trying to bring him off quickly. It worked, and the sperm leaked from the corner of her mouth as she stroked and sucked him dry.

The cock retracted completely and was replaced by a long, thin one; freckled and mottled with age spots. A few gloved stroked brought it to full length; she looked at it in wonder before another dose of freshener and some soft tongue work. She was teasing the underside when it released a spray of white liquid; it fell on the cracked ceramic floor a small blizzard on the faded green pattern.

The third was shorter, with huge testicles. It took longer to arouse its attention, longer to swell completely, but Susie was patient and persistent, spending a lot of time fondling his quail eggs before turning her attention to the pleasure pole and coaxing its warm tribute.

Then a dick appeared of a dark hue, a chocolate long john full of promise of a creamy middle. She heard an intake of breath from Chris as it sprung to full size, and teased him by working on this penis with her eyes locked on her companion in the corner. His tongue crept out of his mouth, and his hand went to his crotch, as she took inch after inch of the monster in her hungry maw, gasping as she hit bottom, wiry pubic hair raking her cheeks, and his call of passion reverberated through the ancient hallways. His ejaculation seemed to last forever.

The last perker appeared, slightly below average yet very thick. Susie worked the head over almost exclusively, the semen starting before she could take him in, leaving white droplets on her cheek. A series of groans were heard from the other side of the wall, and with a pop, he pulled away.

"Let me kiss you, Susie," Fr. Chris said.

"What."

"Share with me," His tongue snaked out to lick the residue from her face, and probed her mouth seeking whatever was left from five men's tribute still lingering there. She kissed him back after the surprise wore off, shoveling the sperm into his mouth with the tongue and broke away reluctantly.

"How was it?" He asked.

"Wonderful," she replied. "This is going to be fun."

They walked back up the steps to the car, seeing no one as they pulled out of the yard and back onto main streets. Returning to the shop, he bought her a sandwich and they chatted as they ate their lunch. She returned to the office at 12:30, to read her e-mail before going to her afternoon meeting.

Steffie Beasley was working at her desk through lunch. Large hoops dangled from her ears, and pink lipstick adorned her lips as she typed, mouthing the text as she copied it. Her oversized body was poured into a grey sweater and black pants. A pizza box held a couple of slices from an extra large pizza, a non-diet soft drink sat next to her right hand, close to several candid and posed shots of her many nephews and nieces. Turning her chair as her friend arrived, she said: "Do you want some coffee, Susie?"

"No thanks. I"m fine."

Steffie looked her friend up and down. "You look fine. You look like you've had a wonderful morning and a delicious lunch. Where did you go?"

"Someplace out of the way. Great selection, I'm stuffed." Susie sat in her cubicle and turned on her computer, checking her e-mail and dealing with some internal memos.

"Must have been all you can eat." Steffie said as she returned to her typing.

The afternoon took Susie to a modest parish in an older, middle class neighborhood. St. Vincent's pastor was Fr. Terrance Sidlow, a burly man of less than average height and receeding hairline that greeted her within a minute of his secretary's summons.

"It's so good to have you here, Ms. Cox. I'm looking forward to our meeting."

"Thank you, Father. Where would you like to go?"

Looking over his shoulder. "How droll! My office, of course. This way." He led her to his office, where they sat on opposite side of his huge desk.

Leaning over, he whispered conspiratorially: "Where shall we do this?"

She leaned over and whispered back: "Where to you think?"

"We can't do it here; my secretary may come in."

"Can't you tell her to hold your calls?"

"Yes."

"Well."

"I don't want to take any chances."

"How about your bedroom?"

"My housekeeper may suspect something, especially after finding soddy sheets."

She smiled at him wryly. "That's a big assumption. I take it you don't want her suspecting anything."

"No."

"How about the guest room?"

"Same problem."

"What if you do the sheets yourself?"

He thought. "She might hear the washer going and wonder what's happening."

"What if you do it late at night?"

"How do you wash a sheet?" A quizzical look crossed his face.

She blew out a frustrated breath. He was paying to screw her and after the morning she was more than ready for any sized cock in her cunt. "We could try a hotel room."

"No, no, no, somebody might see."

"I guess the closet's out of the question," she said flippantly.

His eyes gleamed. "Perfect! Come on!" He grabbed her wrist, and pulled her after him, opening the closet door and pulling her through.

The closet stank faintly of mothballs, and several old coats were hanging there, along with several rabbies. Closing the door brought about total darkness, and his hands were clawing her everywhere once they were alone, while he breathed asthmatically in her ear.

"Slow down, tiger," she whispered, "Let me take the lead." She unbuttoned her blouse, found his belt and unbuttoned fly. His cock was average size, and would suit what she had in mind. Guiding his hands to her breasts, she reached down and began to massage his cock into the open. Hiking up her dress, she was grateful that she did not wear panties that day. Her vagina was slick, and she used the head of his cock to play with her clitoris, making her ready for entry. He erected quickly, and when they were both ready, she sat on his member, pulling up her left leg.

He mouthed her neck and started kneading her bottom as they started bucking. From time to time he fell out, but she guided him back in and focused her attention on her own sensations. Wired from a morning of group fellatio, it took her little time to reach her plateau, which she achieved just before his lack of self control sent a jet of fluid inside her. Throwing her legs around his butt, she milked him slowly in slow pulses and kept him from fading completely until her need was satisfied.

They burst from the closet stumbling, and he hurried to compose himself, buttoning up and wiping his brow with handkerchief. She leaned against a couch, breathing heavily, her dress pulled down to reveal her right breast.

When he noticed her exposure, he pointed and started humming frantically to get her to conceal it. She did slowly with a caustic look, making a mental note to be better prepared the next time she visited this unschooled boy.