The Vicar of St. Dunstan's Ep. 17

He said: "You'll have to prove your worthiness to me. Give me your special kiss and if you do it well, I'll give ye what ye want."

So I unbuttoned his cassock from the bottom up; it took forever for my quivering fingers. At last, I got him open and took his long, white cock in my hand to stroke and admire it. My mother had taught me how to suck a man's cock when she taught me the facts of life, so I used every trick she taught me to make Father Keiran feel good as I knelt before him, my veil on my head and it wasworking. Just before he would have sent his spunk down my hungry throat, he pulled away and said: "Strip for me, take off that habit. I'd see your dusky body in the nip before I plumb your depths."

I took off my habit in nothing flat, and stood before him a dark and lovely Daughter of Jerusalem. He sat in the chair, his wonderful cock thirteen inches long standing straight up in the air, can you stand it, Alfie? So I went over and lowered my dark body onto his white freckled cock and we danced the dance of love until we both sang in out ecstacy.

A month later, I was found with child and expelled from the Convent. Father Kieran went back to Ireland, and I was able to swim the Tiber backwards to join the Church of England. I named my boy Kieran as well, and I'm lucky he lives with me here, but he's got the devil in him from his Irish father, and a cock that frightens the girls at his school.

****

"How old is young Kieran now?" I asked Miriam.

"He's just turned 18, Alfie. Chocolate skin and red, curly hair. Trying to make it as a professional Football player, and studying law on the side."

"And you've never had another man?" Artie asked.

"Who could follow the man of my dreams?" Miriam said, hugging herself with a tear in her eye. "I've lost him forever, and sometimes I ache for him. But he's followed his calling and I've followed mine, as well as raised his son to be a fine young man. It's his loss."

Roberta reached over and touched Miriam's shoulder; the ladies' eyes were all most, and George was a bit weepy as well. Two long streams ran down Arthur's face as he sipped his drink. There were several long moments of silence, punctuated softly by the sounds from the Telly.

At last, Arthur collected himself and shrugged off his gloom. "Well, I've got all the stories, so now I'll have to give you the story of the Princess and the Queer.".

****

Percival Walker was my roommate at University. We got on famously from the start, even though he was a rich kid and I was working class. English literature was our major at the beginning, and we spent a lot of time with Marlowe's works, imagining what it would have been like to drink and screw with the man. Of course, Perce has a nice eight inches to play with, and my cock was always his favorite butt toy.

At that time, Perce was really torn up by his old Mum. She was ragging him constantly about finding the right girl to continue the family line, and like a good boy, he was dating proper young women of his class trying to find the right woman. So dear old Perce was solidly in the closet, and couldn't come out at all, even though he wanted to, 'cause his vile Mum threatened to disinherit him if he wasn't married by graduation. Didn't want to give the family fortune to a poofter, as she put it.

The problem was, every proper girl Perce dated was either spooked because he was queer, or spooked because they couldn't handle his massive meat, the tight little cunts. On night, I found one of the royals running across campus in the dark, half naked, shrieking: "The bastard damn near tore me in half!" What a shame, 'cause old Mother Walker would have loved a royal in the family.

Our senior year, it becomes plan that I'm called by the Lord, and he's called to run the family empire, so I'm trying to find the brood mare for him. I've known Clarissa since we were small: she grew up around the corner from my Mum's. She was an only as well, her only gal pal was Violette the Hatchet Face, and we three had cut a swath cruising for men around town when Perce was off playing Polo or in sunny Mallorca.

One night we four were sitting around the campus, drooling over different blokes, when Perce pipes up. "Hey Clarissa, where's your family from?"

"Near here. We're the Queen's poor cousins, Perce."

"Oh, say more."

"My family is descended from a bastard son of Charles II. My ancestor had huge grants of lands in the Lake District, but my great grandfather was a gambler and went through the family fortune. Grandad was a solicitor and built it back, but Dad was another wastrel and we lived from hand to mouth. I'm in Burke's peerage, and when we could afford it, I went to finishing school That's when I met dear little Violette, here."

Violette looked incredibly smug, expecting a compliment that never came. Clarissa pressed on.

"Why do you ask, Perce?"

"Well, Mater is looking for me to find a proper wife before I graduate, or I'm out of the will. Someone with some breeding is preferred, and since you haven't seemed ready to settle down while we've been here, I thought you might be looking for a place to lay your head."

Clarissa pondered for a bit. "I don't have to save myself for you?"

"Hell, no," Perce said, "As long as we don't compete for the same boys, everything's fine."

"How much are you worth?" she aksed. Percival told her, and Violette turned green with envy.

Clarissa's eyes took on an eldritch glow, her skin was flushed, and she started to perspire. "Any other conditions?"

"Well, it would be nice if we could somehow produce an heir, but we can take our time. Would also like to know if you'd be good company when I'm striking out at the bars."

"How so?"

"Can you take eight inches?"

"Easy," she replied with her hands on her hips.

"Up your ass?"

Clarissa bent over and hiked up her skirt without a second thought. "Try me out, here and now," she said, wiggling her hips in invitation. Hell, her ass was so nice, I was tempted to give her a try.

We went back to our flat, teasing and laughing the whole way. Hatchet Face was feeling up my ass, but I laughed her off, telling her that if she could suck cock better than a man, I'd take her on. It was so drunk out, we barely got the door of the flat open. Perce must have drunk more than I thought, because he took his tube of favorite lube from his pocket, greased her up, and started slapping her ass with his dick. She moaned and groaned and kept egging him on until he pushed into her sweet ass and fucked her hard. She took it all, came twice without frigging herself, and Perce was in heaven as he deposited his load inside her. She turned around and did Ass-to-Mouth on him and old Perce was hooked.

****

"How long were they happy?" Roberta asked.

"About five minutes after the wedding," Arthur continued.. "They rarely saw each other while they were engaged, and Clarissa set her sights on seducing old Mother Walker, emotionally, not physically. When they married, they hyphenated, and old Mother changed her will to give them everything with the condition they never divorce. I thought they'd given up trying to have a baby until recently." Arthur gave me an inquiring look, which I stared down.

George stirred from his stupor. "Well, they deserve each other, and God save their spawn from the Evil One.. No-one deserves parents like them. Except for the money of course."

"Did Hatchet Face ever give you the blow job?" I asked evilly.

Arthur blushed. "I let her try, but I couldn't keep it up for a while. She was relentless, so I finally blew a huge load on her face and hair. Then I laughed and told her Perce was better."

The DVD of New Orleans had finished the parade scenes and showed street scenes from the French Quarter. There were endless shots of screaming girls pulling their shirts up, and a few women with painted chests walking around topless. "Ooo, that looks like fun," Beatrice opined.

Miriam looked at her with incredulity. "So show us your tits. I bet that Artie would give you one of his necklaces if you did. Whadda say, Artie?"

Artie's eyes suddenly went from dazed to electrified. "You bet, sweetheart. Should me your tits and I"ll give you a necklace."

"You're on," she said, and pulled up her cleric shirt and bra to display her relatively young breasts, 34C cups with nice, dark brown nipples against her Indian hued skin. She even bounced up and down to make them jiggle. Artie ran over and kissed them, putting a necklace around her neck as she pulled her shirt back down.

Miriam bounced to her feet. "Must keep up with my neighbor," she said, lifting her shirt to the heavens, displaying nice 32 B cups with eraser sized, rock hard nipples. Artie gave them a squeeze before draping a set of beads around her neck.

"I'll do it to, but you stay on that side of the room until my shirt is back down," Roberta said. Her breasts were like medium eggplants, wobbling and swaying seductively a few moments before they were safely concealed again, away from Artie's attention. She took the beads from around his neck and draped them over hers.

Pamela stood silently and uncovered herself next: she had massive knockers with huge nipples, similar to Mavis' but not as extreme, and she held them until he came over the jiggle them up and down. She giggled hysterically as Artie played with them, and left them out after getting her beads.

George stirred from his haze again, and confronted Edwina's reluctance. "Edwina, dear, you shouldn't be shy. You have beautiful breasts, the best here, and you should favor us with a showing. I'll make it worth your while."

She blushed redly and hesitated. Artie sat in front of her like a puppy dog, but she ignored him. George held her gaze, inviting her with his eyes for several moments until she timidly began to unbutton her clergy shirt, slowly, teasingly. After removing it completely, she unfastened her bra and displayed the most beautifully proportioned set of mammaries I had ever seen in my life. George produced a small digital camera and snapped a picture as she smiled shyly for him.

After giving Edwina her set of beads, he turned to George and I. "Well, lads, we need to figure out a way for you to earn your beads."

"I'm not showing you my tits," I replied, making all present shake with mirth. "I don't have any, anyway."

"How 'bout showin' us your arse?" Artie replied.

"Done," George said. He stood awkwardly, almost fell down turning around, and dropped his trousers and boxers to display an ample, bubble butt. Artie turned his attention to me.

"You're up. mate."

I didn't want to do it, but I thought of a way that would irritate Arthur in partial exchange for his irritation of the evening. "All right, I'll show you my ass, but under one condition."

"Name it, mate, anything, anything at all," Arthur said with a gleam in his eyes.

"That you, Arthur, leave the room while I'm doing it. I don't drop trou until you leave and I pull them back up before you return."

Arthur's jaw dropped dramatically. "How will I know you've done it?"

"I think that five Anglican priests should be reliable witnesses, wouldn't you, and no pictures, George."

"Damn," he said, putting away the camera.

Miriam smiled broadly, as did Pamela and Miriam. "As Dean of this Deanery, I find this an adequate compromise, and order that it come to pass," Roberta said. Arthur, leave."

"Aw, come on." Arthur turned to everyone in the room seeking an ally, but found none.

"Now, Arthur," Roberta commanded, pointing at the door, taking a set of beads from him.

Sheepishly, he left the room, and Miriam closed the door behind him. Roberta held up a hand for a moment. "Why did you make that condition, Alfred?"

"Artie's been getting under my skin a lot lately, and I wanted to bug him. I knew that making him leave while I showed my butt would get his goat, and he deserves it."

"Very well, Reverend Father, point well taken. Now stand up and show us your sweet arse."

George stayed at my side, refusing to look, as I rose, turned and presented my glutes to the ladies. "Wow," Edwina said. "Nice and tight cheeks."

"Chippendale material," Roberta agreed.

"What a gift from God," Miriam whispered intensely.

"You should do parties," Pamela gushed. "Can I touch it?"

"Me, too," Beatrice insisted, "Me, too."

I thought for a moment. It was weird, but the alcohol inspired me, and they had shown us their tits. "All right, just for a minute." Five hands caressed and fondled my butt for a full minute, which George insisted on timing for some odd reason, before I turned and pulled up my pants. Roberta solemnly put the beads around my neck and went to the door to bring Arthur back into the room.

"You're cruel, mate, cruel," Arthur wined.

"Sorry mate," I replied, "Call it a head start on penance."

After that, the party broke up rather quickly, with Pamela and Edwina putting their clothes back on before they gathered their coats. Cabs were called to take them home, and I cleared up a little bit before going to bed.

Agnes came into the room wearing nothing but a thong. She poured herself a Hurricane and drained it. "Party over?" she asked innocently.

"Yes, I think so, Perky."

"Looking at the clock it is now five minutes before ten. If you're giving up sex for Lent, I insist you give me a full tank before we start this penance. Even a camel drinks all they can before crossing the desert."

"Will you help me clean this up later?"

"Is the Pope German? Is Bishop Delacroix queer?"

My member was responding to her body as it usually did, making my pants tight and my heart beat faster. "All right, we've got two hours. Let's see what we can get done in that time." She grabbed my wrist roughly and pulled me determinedly toward my bedroom.

To be continued in the next installment, where the Vicar's Lenten resolution is tested. Relentlessly.