The Vicar of St. Dunstan's Ep. 02

"Paul condemns homosexual practice pretty clearly."

"Yes, he does. In the context of his time, the prominent people who practiced homosexuality and pederasty were the idle rich. It was considered a pretty selfish orientation, which gave the larger community no benefit; it was associated with ecstacy cults as well. Temple prostitution of both genders had gone on for centuries, and abstaining from that was as important for early Christians as abstaining from meat offered to idols.""

"This is what I love about American clergy: they have such a wonderful background in Scripture without being literalists. Thanks, Alfie, I'd been wondering about these points for a long time."

The look of relief on her face was palpable. I returned it quizzically: "How come you wanted to talk about prohibitions of sodomy, Bren? Are there many gays in the desert beside Priscilla and companions?"

She unbuttoned a couple more buttons on her clergy shirt, and leaned back. "It's tough being a woman in Alice Springs with a dog collar. I have to be so careful, because if it seems as though if I'd try to seduce someone, I'm betraying my calling."

"I know what you mean."

"And if I do go out with someone, I feel as though I have to follow the strict party line, so to speak. My libido may be urging me to submit to the whims of a gorgeous young stud, but I won't be the same person in the pulpit for that man and everyone he knows if I do. I'd lost two parishes before I realized that being seen as a woman searching for a man weakened my role as Vicar, and it's one of the main reasons I ended up in Alice Springs. And if I want to do something that isn't considered legit. . ."

The truth hit me. "You like being sodomized."

She nodded her head. "Yes, I like being sodomized immensely. I like everything else about sex, too, but there's nothing like having your bum probed by a sweet throbbing cock. There was a boyfriend when I was in college who put me on to it, but I haven't had any steady relationships since then. Alice Springs is such a small town there's no privacy. I have improvise sex toys, but it's not the same as a man, and I have to be careful and hide my misused produce from my housekeeper."

Another slug of Scotch helped me keep my equilibrium. Bren was looking at me with expectant eyes, and unbuttoned another button on her shirt. Her breasts were firm and full, from what I could see, and her hips were full, round and ripe. Alcohol hadn't dulled my responses too much, and it gave me the courage to say, "Are you saying you're lonely, Bren, and you want someone to hold you that you don't have to worry about?"

She paused a few moments, obviously debating with herself about something. Then she quickly got up out of her chair, came over and kissed me deeply and hard on the lips. The window faced a brick wall, so I wasn't worried about onlookers. Her shirt came off, and I fondled her tits through their bra. She unzipped my fly, and was massaging my manhood into life, getting more and more excited as she discovered that it was the biggest she'd found yet. "Oh Alfie, I know I can trust you, and you know you can trust me. Make me feel like a woman again, please."

Undoing her bra released a pair of 38 C cups that nestled into my hands happily. She pulled off my clergy shirt and undershirt, running her hands over my hard body, and diving down to push my trousers to the floor. Loosening my boxers, she unleashed my nine and a half inch dick, which she stroked and fondled gently. I kneaded her buttocks, which brought purring, especially as I probed the vertical smile for soft spots. I whispered in her ear: "Lubrication. We'll need lubrication."

She whispered back, "Butter. It's organic, melts well, and the initial chill is quite thrilling. You've got some in the kitchen, don't you?"

"This is England, of course there's butter in the pantry. Give me a tick and meet me in my room." I jogged downstairs to get a stick out of the pantry, and I took the steps two at a time returning. Bren had laid herself on my bed nude with a dog collar around her throat, the room lit by a single, white candle, and I returned to put my dog collar on before I got in beside her Resuming our make out session was delightful, she was so soft and fresh, and her pelvis ground into mine urgently. I paid attention to her tits, licked and stroking them, before moving down to her clitoris. Women take a long time to get going, and I wanted her smoking before I invaded her ass.

To that end, I wandered down her lovely knockers and tickled her belly button with my tongue before going down to swirl her clitoris. She moved around and took my stallion in her mouth, running the tip of her tongue around the rim of my corona, driving me wild. For several long, wonderful minutes we lay together in sixty-nine, but I kept enough presence of mind to pull the butter off the end table and out of its wrapper. I pressed the cool chunks of slick dairy against her rosebud, and she moaned as each one was gently pushed through and worked into her tight pucker. The entire stick went in that way, and I inserted one and then two fingers to massage the muscles to relaxation. On the third finger's entry, Bren went into a serenade of bliss as she found the mountaintop of her first orgasm. My cock fell out of her mouth, and I stopped licked and sucking her clitoris but kept the three fingers working inside her.

"My God, Alfie, you're so good. It's been too long, love, too long. I have to stop sucking you so you can buttfuck me. Let me catch my breath and we'll get this wonderful Willie into forbidden territory."

She caught her breath quickly, and came up on all fours while I continued to work her asshole. I got up off the bed and aligned myself for entry, and she wiggled her backside in anticipation. I took my fingers out and arranged the angle, pressing the head of my dick against her buttered backside. "Bren, it's all ready. You push back at your own pace, and when it's all the way in, we'll see where the spirit takes us."

"Yes, Alfie, yes. Oh, I can't wait." She pushed her pucker backward, where it took several tries before the end of my prick penetrated the tight circle. The feeling was astounding, the muscles gripping my cockhead like a vise. She bit her lip and moved back a little more. "You're so big, Alfie, I can't believe it. My old boyfriend was only half your size. I think I can take it, I want to take it all so badly. Let me work a little bit, love." Bit by bit, her willing backside pushed and pushed to take me in; after the first four inches she had to stop and relax some more. 'Oh my God, this is so great, I can hardly stand it. By a love and throw me my purse, it's just by my knee on the floor." I reached down and handed it to her, still partially impaled in her rectum. Pulling it around in front of her, she dug inside for a moment and pulled out a yellow object. "Let's go again."

I shoved forward slowly and cautiously, after all, I'd never sodomized anyone before in my life. Her head moved up and down, touching the bed a couple of times as I forced into her, and I gave her another break with an couple of inches to go. She moved the yellow object down to her dripping vagina and started to rub it on her slit. With a lunge, I went up to my balls and she moaned loudly: "Yes, yes, yes, Alfie, you're all in. It's so wonderful I can't believe it. Start pumping me slowly, and so we'll have enough speed that you can fill by bum with your hot spunk, love."

"Where did you get that ear of corn?" I'd finally recognized the object in her hand.

"At the pub. It wasn't on the menu, but they had some in the back room, and I persuaded them to cook it for me. Said I ate it fresh at Alice Springs all the time and missed it."

"You must be very lonely there."

"Yes, Alfie, yes. We get fresh produce shipped in all the time, and the sensation from all those little kernels are fantastic. I have to improvise all my sex toys, cucumbers, zucchini, carrots, bananas. The corn was a lark one night, and the kernels drive me wild as they plunge in and out." She started to work the Native American staple into her cunt as I began slowly pumping her ass. "This is a dream come true, Alfie, fucking an ear of corn while getting pounded by a big dick up my ass. Get the lad going, love."

It took no further encouragement for me to start the tidal action going. We started pumping slowly, while she worked the fresh vegetable into her canal, but soon we were bucking enthusiastically while she frantically screwed herself organically. I could feel the kernels savaging her cunt through her intestine: it added to the stimulation of her butter slickened crevasse, and soon I was delivering my hot load into her bowels while the cob was bringing her to mountaintop number two.

We disengaged and fell on the bed panting heavily in each other's arms. Her eyes glowed in the dim candlelight. "Ah, Alfred, didn't know you had it in you until today. Mrs. Sterns took me aside to tell me about the Quilting Ladies and how they're taking care of you; she thought I needed some similar care and you'd be happy to give me one. Now, don't look that way: they aren't telling just anyone about how they're keeping your axle greased, and I haven't heard anything about it from anyone outside the sewing circle. Your secret is safe, and knowing the parish, it'll stay that way." She chuckled briefly. "The way things are in the dear C. of E., nobody's going to care if a straight vicar screwing a bunch of old ladies, you're completely dull in that regard."

I took a deep breath, and collected myself. "So it's not like you have any feelings for me, is it?" A firm kiss on the lips with a darting tongue was the response to that. "I've loved you since we first started sending e-mails. I know that we're both committed to our ministries first, and we're happy with that. Neither one of us will probably get another chance at marriage with a healthy person, sometimes I think the Romans have right by making everyone do without. But I love you, and if we can only get together now and then, that's good enough for me." Her eyes shone in the dim light, and I knew she was sincere.

"We'll take turns going back and forth since our parishes are connected. I'll go to Australia next year and you can come back the year after. It'll keep our sister parish relationship going, among other things, and we can pick up the rest as we can."

"Speaking of other things, I need to clean up my toys before they get beyond repair." Taking the corn, she darted out of the room into the bathroom, where I heard the running water for several moments. Directly, she came back with a warm, damp, soapy washcloth and proceeded to cleanse my member of her grime. Her gentle touch and the soft cloth got me interested again, but when she took the cloth back my unit deflated.

We slept entwined, and at three-thirty in the morning we both awakened as if by cue by a gentle patter of rain on the window. She stroked my chest and nuzzled against my arm. "I miss hearing the rain while I'm sleeping. It's so lovely."

I stroked her hair. "I've got a crazy idea."

"What?"

"The garden's just been dug up, and the fence is high enough that no one can see over it. You said earlier you'd like to go roll naked in the rain, in the mud."

"No, really? You're crazy, Alfie."

"At this time of the morning, no one would see us. There's a huge tub just off the kitchen downstairs we could soak in after. We could fill it with hot water and have it waiting for us."

"You're a maniac, Alfie, a maniac. What a silly idea."

I started pushing the blanket off of us. "Well, I don't know about you, but it sounds good to me. Tomorrow's my day off, so I can sleep as much as I like. You don't go until Wednesday."

"You're daft, completely daft, and. . ."

"And what?"

"I'm amazed I didn't think of it first."

We danced down the stairs and she went out the door first while I filled the tub with water hot enough to peel paint. She was like a child, running around on the grass and skidding, her hair plastered on her head and shoulders, her breasts flopping independently in raucous mirth. I strode out into the downpour, letting the rain pelt me and savoring the feel of the wet grass and damp earth between my toes.Her arms caught me, and we whirled unsteadily until our lack of balance pitched us into the freshly dug earth of the garden. Rolling in the muck with glee, we wrestled playfully, caking our bodies and hair with mud, laughing like idiots.

Our playfulness gave way to passion, and we were soon tongue kissing and groping one another's slick bodies. Finally, the chill of the water overcame us and we went inside to the bath. The water had cooled and was a prefect, comfortably toasty temperature and we washed each other tenderly, getting all the mud off each other's bodies and hair before savoring the hot water as she sat in front of me, resting her damp head back against my torso and grinding her inviting hips against me.

After drying each other off, we retreated to the warmth of our bed, and gently worked our passion back into urgency. I noticed she snuck a bottle of olive oil up from the pantry: "What's the oil for, love?"

"I'm going to use the corn again." She poured out a dollop and used it to cover the yellow kernels until the glistened, then worked some of the lubricant into her posterior. "Put the corn up my butt while you fuck me, love. Leave enough out so I can pump it."

It sounded odd, but that was the flavor of the evening. When she lay on her back and put her legs up over my shoulders, I worked the vegetable into the orifice that was its usual destiny with gentle determination. Once I had it inserted, I touched her cunt and found it was ready, so I thrust my passion inside her. Forty five blissful minutes we thrust with one another, while she pistoned the rough vegetable in her ass until we reached the mountaintops again. Afterward, we slept again until daylight found us.

Sheila came into the kitchen at ten to find us sitting dressed in ordinary clothes at the table and reading the morning papers with coffee. "Hello, Vic, hi, Brenda. Are you up for an omelet, tomato and fried slice for breakfast?"

"Yes, Mrs. Button, that sounds wonderful. Doesn't it, Reverend Alfred?"

"Yes, Reverend Brenda, I quite agree," I added without looking up from my paper. We continued reading in silence while she clattered around the kitchen, and before long, she presented us with two steaming plates.

"Now you kids just have a lovely day, and don't worry about a thing. I know how you priests are when you get together, so don't mind me. Enjoy yourselves." She gave us broad wink and bustled out the door without her usual half hour's litany of daily events in the neighborhood or her usual recent offering of her flesh for my enjoyment.

Brenda looked over her paper. "What was that all about?" I looked back at her. "Well, I guess when some of our brethren got together in the past, they–kept vigil as we did last night. Knowing Sheila, she probably knew all about their gambols, and kept track of who was sleeping with whom. We're just another statistic."

"She knows?" Brenda's face looked frightened. "She figured it out that easily? My God, she's the biggest gossip in the county."

"Don't worry about it. She's one of the Quilting Ladies." I took another sip from my cup. "I have ways of keeping her quiet."

"I'm sure you do." Brenda smiled, as she started eating her breakfast. "I think I've seen one." Then she put her free hand on my knee under the table and gave it a squeeze. The rest of our day was bliss, and she gave me a long, deep kiss at the airport when she left on Wednesday. As we parted, I whispered in her ear, "Next year in Alice Springs."