tagLoving WivesThe Vicar of St. Dunstan's Ep. 09

The Vicar of St. Dunstan's Ep. 09

byNigel Debonnaire©

THE RECREATION ROOM

Many authors have written about how their characters have taken on lives of their own, even going off in directions against the author's will at times. From the start, Mavis Hazelton has been one of those characters for me. A plump, robust lady of limitless energy, boundless enthusiasm, and voracious appetites, she must surely make her poor husband Harry exhausted watching her, which is probably why he encourages her to visit her distant grandchildren as much as possible, and spend a lot of her time in the Quilting Room. I debated letting Mavis take center stage and push the Vicar this far, but she never lets up and never goes about anything she likes half-way.

Mavis is going farther than before on her birthday, and if you're not into S/M, you may skip ahead from where she gets out of the hottub to ease nature to the last three paragraphs.


My testicles were churning as they never had before: I thought I was losing my mind. Two minutes into fellatio and it felt as though electricity was shooting from my corona down the shaft, where the voltage meters was surging up to a massive discharge. I was in heaven, I was incoherent, and if my partner wasn't eighty-five years old, I would have been in love. Maybe I was anyway.

Mrs. Lucinda Parkhurst-Frazelton was local aristocrat: a small, frail old woman with white hair. She was generous benefactor to the parish, I had finally given in to pressure from above to persuade her to giving the Bishop some money. Either I tried it, or Bishop Delacroix was going to visit her to make the pitch himself, with his horrendous daughter Violette in tow, made even more insufferable by the ninth month of pregnancy. I couldn't allow this kind of torture to a sweet old lady, so there I was.

We were sitting on her sofa, and Lucinda was regaling me with anecdotes from her marriage. "Oh yes, Sidney was such a beautiful lad, with such a lovely body in his youth. Our generation was different than today's generation: when we got to our wedding night, we were both virgins with no idea what to do. Poor Sidney had to go out late at night in downtown London to find a 'marriage manual' as it was called, but when he found one, the doors of knowledge were opened and we had such a lovely time having sex. I never knew having my nipples licked would feel so wonderful.

"Then, after five years and four children, we read about oral sex; I said it was sounded disgusting, but Sidney was brave enough to go first. I made so much noise the first time he went down on me, I was afraid I'd wake the servants. Then, I summoned up the courage to take his penis in my mouth and we had nothing but oral sex until after menopause. Sidney had such a cute little penis and it fit my mouth so perfectly. . ."

At this point, her gnarled hand wandered over to my fly, and started fumbling with the zipper. Her random memory tossed up her belief that I was a lonely, humble Vicar without sexual release, and her oral talents, mastered over thirty years of marriage, would comfort me. The first time, Mary was there to help her, but this time we were alone. At her bidding, I opened my fly and produced my nine inch John Thomas. Her trembling hand grasped me loosely, while she removed her dentures to a side table, took a small candy from a tin and put it in her mouth. "What's that, Lucinda?"

"Cinnamon Altoids, Vicar. I've got some mint ones here, too. Would you like one?"

I'd heard this urban legend before. "Are these candies you're fond of?"

"Oh, I haven't had these for years; I loved them when I was a girl. Someone told me they were good for oral sex, so I thought I'd try it. Sidney would have loved something like this; I used to gargle just before I sucked him. . ." I steadied her shoulders as her head came forward to take in my member, her gums and tongue nipping and sucking to take me in.

Now, I'm the biggest skeptic in the world about legends such as this, but for me the result was immediate. My John Thomas sprang up like a Jack-in-the-Box at the touch of her mouth, throbbing at the fiery sensations playing over me. In four minutes, my voltmeter pegged and I filled her mouth with a series of powerful discharges. It was too much for her to handle, and she used her teacup to catch what she couldn't swallow.

Putting her teeth back in, she settled back on the sofa, took another candy, and sipped my ejaculate from her tea cup. After finishing, she had me pour some tea for her. "So, you'd like me to help Bishop Delacroix with one of his little projects; I'll have to think about that. Give me until Monday to decide, all right? Here Vicar, have one of these cheesy biscuits."

The afternoon at home was quiet, and early evening found me at Happy Hour at the Pub. I was sitting at table with several men of the parish: Percy Wilton, Stan Dover, Bert Button and Harry Hazelton were holding forth on the perils of modern life and aging while going through several pints and plates of chips covered in chili sauce while Derrick Sterns and I tried to make sense of it all.. The Quilting Ladies were across the way with several other ladies of the parish. Sheila's granddaughter Jenny was there, just starting to show Derrick's baby; Mary's grandson was marrying her on Saturday with only the immediate family present. Agnes was the image of her grandmother Mary sitting beside her, a blue tube top showed her generous endowment and her erect pierced nipples were clearly visible through the fabric. She caught me looking at her, and gave me a big smile and a wink. Trying not to stare with her grandmother next to her, I looked over at the Telly to see the weather forecast for the coming weekend.

"Hey, Vicar. What do you think of the new Rec Room?" Percy Whitson asked

"Well done, Percy, you've done a good job. I like the way you've laid everything out; it will be easy to go from one station to another in sequence. There's still a lot of room to move around and room for new additions."

Stan smirked. "We got another addition coming on Saturday morning, Vic. Since we don't have Evensong in summertime, you'll be able to try it out right after Tea."

"And what would that be?" The men all laughed.

"You'll have to find out, Vicar," Harry Hazelton chuckled. "Let's just say it's bigger than a breadbasket, even bigger than my Mavis." More laughter and a toast followed; Derrick smiled awkwardly, since he wasn't used to being in a group of men this age.

Percy tapped me on the shoulder: "By the way, Vic, speaking of additions, just got the news today. My Peg's got a bun in the oven." His face shone as if he'd won the World Cup single handed.

"Congratulations, Percy," I shook his hand and ordered him a drink. "I'm happy for both of you."

"We owe you a lot, Vic," Percy whispered. "Without you, none of this would have happened."

I turned to Derrick, who was sitting on my left. "How are you doing, son? Ready for the big day on Saturday?"

He nodded his head. "Sure, Vic. It's a dream come true; I love Jenny so much and we're so looking forward to the baby. I've got a scholarship for university, a free ride as you Yanks put it, and Grandmum is going to let us stay with her until we get through school and get our feet on the ground."

"Won't she be a bit cramped? Her house isn't that big."

"She says it'll be grand. Agnes is looking for a place after she graduates in a couple of months, and we're going to have a yard sale soon to clear out some space. There's a lot of time Grandmum's not home, and she says she can always go work on her quilting at the parish if she needs some space."

I gulped some beer, and patted Derrick on the shoulder. "Well, don't forget, if there's any advice I can give you, you know, father/son advice since you Dad's not here for you, just ask."

"Thanks, Vic. I owe you a lot."

Bert Button caught my eye, and said, "How about a game of darts, Vic?"

"Sure, Bert." It was the only way for me to find out what was on his mind without being obvious. We went over to the dart board and pulled the projectiles out in preparation for the match. We threw three rounds before Bert was ready to start.

"Vic, do you think the kids are ready to tie the knot? I know that Sheila and I got married around their age, for pretty much the same reason, but kids today are different. I'm worried about our Jenny: she lost her mum five years ago and her dad last year. She might be going too fast; she may be wanting a home too soon." I pulled the darts out of the board for another round. "I can't tell you much, Bert, but I think they'll be all right. You know his situation is the same as Jenny's: he lost his parents long ago and Mary's been taking care of him since. Derrick's a promising young man, he idolizes Jenny, and she's hooked on him. They know the difficulties they face, and they seem as ready to try as any young couple I've seen who weren't in a hurry. Besides, Mary will be looking after them and I'll keep an eye on them as well. They'll be fine, Bert."

Bert threw his darts. "Thanks, Vic. That helps put my mind at ease. Fancy another go?"

"No, Bert. You're too good. Thanks."

As we returned to the table, the girls were just leaving. Sheila came over to the table: "You're on your own tonight, boys. We're going to have a little hen party at Mary's house for our Jen, before she takes the great leap. See you later."

Harry looked around and noticed the pub was almost empty. "Fancy a game of Texas Hold 'Em, boys."

Stan and Percy nodded their heads, and after a moment Bert also agreed. Derrick looked uncertain, and I said: "Doesn't Johnny want to close up? Surely there's something on the telly he'd like to watch in the peace of his apartment."

Harry shouted to the bar, "Hey, Johnny. Fancy a game of Hold 'Em?"

"Sure, Harry," Johnny said. "We'll have a little lock in for our doomed lad Derrick. Just let me cash out, turn the key and set up the pints for the game."

I felt uneasy. "Pot limit, right, Harry? Twenty pound stake?"

"Sure, Vicar, anything you say. We'll even stake the poor lad so he doesn't have to lose his own money."

"All right. Deal me in."

The poker game lasted until 11:00PM, and I was up eighty pounds. I walked Derrick back home and said to him as we reached his door: "You need to watch your money closely from now on, lad, so don't play poker or any game of chance. You're very bright, but learning the games will cost you more than you can afford right now. The lads at the bar are all right, but next time, just throw some darts and watch, all right?"

"Sure, Vicar, thanks. Where did you learn to play poker like that?"

"Dodge City, Kansas," I said, pausing for dramatic effect.. "Or close to there. I grew up playing with my family, and my grandfather used to cheat, so I had to be good. Take my advice."

"Of course, Vicar. Thanks for all you've done for me."

"Good night, Derrick."

"Good night, Vicar."

The tone he said that touched me as it never had before. I walked back to the Vicarage in silence through the dark streets.

The wedding on Saturday went off without a hitch. The Sterns and Button clans turned out in force, and celebrated the union half the night in the Undercroft; I heard the throbbing disco at a distance from my bedroom where I had retreated for some peace and quiet. I almost overslept the next morning, and barely got into my vestments in time for Morning Song and Eucharist.

The afternoon was just right in every way: blue skies, perfect temperature, a light breeze faintly tinged with the sea. My spirits were light, and I soon changed into a t-shirt and shorts to putter in the yard for the rest of the afternoon.

Teatime saw all three of the Quilting Ladies come around: Mavis had fixed a picnic hamper whose contents we enjoyed out back on a huge blanket. They were dressed in t-shirts, shorts and sandals with wide floppy hats. I brought my iPod , plugging it into my housewide speaker system and we enjoyed Mendelssohn's Midsummer Night's Eve music as we dined. It was an idyllic late Spring afternoon in the green garden with the flowers in bloom and the breeze wafting their scent around: my ladies were cheerful and relaxed after the successful wedding, and Mavis was celebrating her birthday. We drank her good health three times, and she asked me pointedly: "Vicar, what would you give me for my birthday?"

It took me aback for a moment, and Sheila and Mary were giving me wicked smiles. "I guess I could give you a good time, Mavis."

"Would you give me anything I wanted?"

"I guess, sure Mavis, it's your birthday, so I'll entertain you however you wish."

She looked at the other two triumphantly. "You're witnesses, lassies. I'll even let you watch."

The conversation wandered back to the wedding, and Mavis asked: "Where did the kids go for their honeymoon?"

Sheila said: "They don't know I know, but they went to Paignton. Mrs. Parkhurst-Frazelton paid for the trip and they'll be gone a week. She really is a love underneath that cool, aristocratic exterior. They were so happy to get a honeymoon; they thought they'd have to do without. Bert and I are going to move her things over to Mary's while they're gone this week."

"I've already got a room ready for the baby, right next to theirs," Mary added. "It's down a long hallway from my room; we old ladies like our sleep and I wouldn't deprive the kids any of the great joys of caring for a baby." They giggled like schoolgirls at that line. After dessert, Mary gave me a look and asked pointedly: "How did you like the surprise in your Recreation Room, Vicar?"

I was confused for a moment, then remembered: "Oh yes, the boys were talking about it in the Pub the other night. No, I haven't had time to get down there since they brought whatever it was over. Didn't work out yesterday morning, just took a run around the neighborhood before the wedding. Can you tell me what it is?"

They looked at each other and snickered. Sheila said: "Oh no, Vicar, you have to find out for yourself. Let's get this lot put away and we'll show you." The hamper was repacked with leftovers, the trash thrown away, and the ladies escorted me down my own basement stairs to the newly refurbished Recreation Room.

It was a marvel: Percy Wilton and Stan Dover had worked wonders. My workout stations were all done, the weightlifting bench was on a podium and toward the far end was a huge hottub, but enough for all four of us. Small speakers stuck out from the far end, and a master control held an MP3 player that would play all my beloved classical music recordings. It was lit with a myriad of candles of all sizes around the room, most of them being the big bottle candles that usually lit the church. I walked around marveling at everything while the ladies smirked. The only thing that was incongruous was the old prie-dieu that was over by the hottub. "Shall we break in the hot tub, Vic?" Mary said.

"Sure, Mary. Let's fire it up." Punching a couple of buttons, the waters started to seethe, and as they got ready, I went to the player to punch up Handel's Water Music. I gave each of my ladies a big hug and a kiss: I was speechless at their generosity. Before long, everything was ready, and we stripped down to luxuriate nude in the waters while the lyrical strains that accompanied King George I on the Thames caressed our ears.

After a while, Mavis excused herself to ease nature and Mary tapped me on the shoulder. I opened my eyes to look at her; she had a serious look on her face. "Vicar, I'd like to talk with you about our friend Mavis. Sheila and I give the soppy old cow a hard time, but we love her like a sister and want to see her happy. Today's her birthday, and she's going to ask you to do some things that you may be reluctant to do. I just want to say that we're going to be here through this to make sure nothing goes amiss, and reassure you that everything's all right."

I looked at her funny, and said: "Don't worry about it. I'll try to do the birthday girl right. It's about time to get out of the tub anyway. Let's get out, make dear Mavis' dreams come true." The three of us scrambled out of the tub, and Sheila and pulled a box from behind the tub; it was a postal package addressed to Mavis, unpacking it and putting the objects on the floor as Mavis' footsteps echoed down the stairs..

First, came a couple of wrist restraints. Mavis picked them up, and a chain holding two vicious looking clamps. "First, Vic, let's get the girls going and put these to good use. Sit down on the bench and I'll come over." I did as she asked, and she presented her massive knockers to me. Mavis tended to be short and chubby, and her breasts were like volleyballs under her blouse. The nipple took up almost the entire front of the big orbs, fully seven inches across, with nubs a half inch thick at the ends. I lifted her mammary and began licking all around the huge brown saucer, nipping at the nub and making her quiver with delight. After a few minutes, her nipple was fully erect, and she asked me to put the clamp on it. She grimaced and hooted as I tightened the device, nodding when she was satisfied with the effect. Turning my attention to the other globe, I worked around the marathon areola then inward to the nub. Getting the matching salute there, she bade me to clamp that one as well.

The chain between the clamps was a rather long one, and I wondered why. Mavis turned to show off her clamped nipples to the girls and beckoned Sheila to come over with the cuffs and other items. "Vicar, I want you to tie my wrists to the chin up bar, but first I want you to secure the chain to it with a nut and bolt. You'll need your wrench to tighten it."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes, Vicar, you can do it." She walked over and Sheila met us there. The bar was just above the top of Mavis' head, so I didn't think there would be enough slack to fix the chain to it. I started lifting it, pulling Mavis' heavy breasts up and stretching her nubs. "Pull them up, Vicar, oh, oh, oh, oh, yes. Ooooooo, that's nice." I touched the chain to the bar, something I thought impossible, but Mavis wanted more. "You can get them a little higher, Vic, I can take it." I squatted down in front of her and took her gargantuan breasts on my shoulders to lift them, getting enough of the chain around the bar to drive the bolt through two sets of loops from opposite sides and secure them with a nut and bolt. It looked rather fragile, and I asked:"Mary, please get me another set or two of nuts and bolts; I don't think this will hold." Compliance was immediate, and I secured them as well, lowering myself to transfer the weight back to Mavis gradually and stepping away confident they would hold.

Mavis howled as the full tension of her breast weight shifted to her nipples. Taking several short, sharp breaths before her breathing steadied, she asked: "You got a picture, Sheila dear?"

Sheila produced a digital camera and took a shot. I looked at it: Mavis' breasts were hauled up by the clamp and chain wickedly, but the broad smile on her face belied the pain in her eye. "Now the cuffs, Vic, now the cuffs," Mavis begged, and I secured her hands to the ends of the bar. More pictures, and Mary brought over a huge multi-strand flogger.

"This is for Mavis," Mary said quietly as she handed it to me. "She wants to you turn her whole backside a bright red."

"Start slowly," Sheila interjected. "As you get used to the whip, you'll be able to give her just what she wants."

"G'wan Vicar," Mavis begged. "It's my birthday. Get on with it, please."

Mavis' chubby back and huge hips presented a target I couldn't miss. I essayed a couple of very light taps, to her encouragement and Mary and Sheila's approval. Swinging the last through, I began to get a feel for its balance and how I could make it fly through the air as I waved it around falling short of my target: I wanted to make it an extension of my arm before I returned to Mavis' flesh. I landed a blow between her shoulder blades that brought a whimper. The girls nodded, and I repeated it. Mavis cried out as I turned put red stripes on her back, working back and forth to turn them into a solid wall of crimson.

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byNigel Debonnaire© 0 comments/ 14171 views/ 0 favorites

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