tagErotic CouplingsCamilla Ch. 065

Camilla Ch. 065


As Camilla waited at home for Father Don Josiah to pick her up for their date on Wednesday night, she thought about the disturbances of her sleep, as well those of her lovers' sleep. She knew she had to be responsible: if Dr. Singh was right that Nigrovum had been feeding on the lusts of her dead lovers, as well as those of Miles Holland, Bob, Candice, and potentially many more, all of those lovers of hers still living had to be warned; for they, too, more than likely, were being affected by the same sleep disturbances...or incubi, if that's what they were.

Before she went out on the porch of her father's house to wait for Don, she sent an e-mail to Dr. Singh, listing all of the lovers she'd had in Vancouver, right from Wayne, her deflowerer, to Bob, in the few POV videos she'd made with him prior to her move to Toronto. She asked Dr. Singh to find out if Mr. Hanson had really died, and if her still living lovers there were OK, or if any of them had also died.

The night before, she'd created psychic barriers to protect not only herself and Candice (whom she'd correctly thought would be too high to remember to do so herself), but also for Mr. Holland, Agape (in case the incubi went after him), and Bob, who was an adamant atheist and didn't believe in ghosts, despite the supernatural scratches he'd received during his dream.

Finally, Father Josiah drove his car up to the curb in front of Agape's house--it was about 8:30, and she'd taken the night off at Club Ritz to be with him. She was wearing her dark blue evening gown, the one that showed off a generous amount of cleavage, from the front and from behind.

She was delighted to see him in his priest's outfit, but he was scandalized to see how slutty she looked, in high heels, whorishly bright makeup, and obviously, no underwear.

"Camilla," he said with his eyes and mouth agape in shock (as well as in arousal). "What are you doing wearing such a dress when I'm in my priest's clothes?"

"Oh, come on, Father," she said as she approached his car. "You don't know? I wanted to please you."

"Camilla, I'm a man of God, not a solicitor of sex. We are going to dinner, and I'm helping you find God."

"And I will find Him," she said, bending over at his car window on the passenger's side, and revealing so much cleavage that almost her entire breasts were exposed, her nipples barely covered, and some areola showing. "I will after you sleep with me." She then opened the door and got in the car.

He took her to an Italian restaurant called Giovanni's, where she, Agape, and Carrie often went together. They got out of the car, and as they walked toward the front door of the restaurant, Josiah was feeling increasingly nervous about how Camilla was dressed, to say nothing of how he, her date, was dressed. About two centimetres of her buttock cleavage was showing. Just as they got to the door, she dropped her purse, and she bent over to pick it up, with her legs spread out wide. He, right behind her, saw her pretty brown puckered anus clearly on display. As they walked in the door, he put his hand over his priest's collar, while she blithely made no attempt to cover either her front or back cleavage.

The maitre d', shocked at how she was dressed, said, "Miss, we don't have a dress code here, but there are reasonable limits as to what is considered tasteful."

Looking in his eyes and working Nigrovum on him, she said, "Really? Is what I'm wearing in such bad taste?" She turned around for him, and turned him on.

"N-no, of course n-not," the maitre d' said; then he showed her and Josiah to a table and gave them menus.

After they ordered, the priest quickly steered the conversation in the direction of religion, as much to mitigate his embarrassment at being seen with so harlot-like a girl as to turn her away from harlotry. Actually, she was somewhat interested in the salvation of her soul, remembering Ravinder's advice about pursuing spirituality, and wanting to protect herself against the emerging dark sides of Nigrovum.

"You must understand how one's soul is saved," Father Josiah began. "Not by your own good works, but by faith."

"But I do believe in God and Jesus," she said. "I'm a Catholic."

"It's not merely about being a member of the Church," he insisted. "We Catholics are redeemed by Christ, but if we fall into sin we can lose that redemption. You must welcome God's grace into your heart, and let the Holy Spirit guide you."

"We're not saved by the good we do, right?"

"That's right, Camilla."

"Jesus saves us; we don't save ourselves?"

"Only Jesus saves."

"But isn't welcoming God into our hearts a kind of good works? Isn't our believing in Jesus just us saving ourselves? It's a choice we make; Jesus doesn't make for us."

"Wait," he said. "You don't seem to..."

"If we can't save ourselves, and only Jesus can; if our salvation has nothing to do with what we do, then what difference does it make if we believe or don't believe, or if we do good or bad?"

"St. Paul in his epistles writes of how we mustn't trivialize moral error," Don explained. "You mustn't assume you can do whatever you like, and that believing alone will get you to heaven."

"Then faith can't save us," she said. "And Christ died in vain."

"No, don't say that. It's not that simple, Camilla. You must be born again."

"I've never understood what that really means: 'born again.' So many religious leaders are 'born again', then they go to hotels with whores...much as you will." She grinned lewdly at those last words.

"Camilla...oh, how can I make you understand? Faith is what saves us, but it's not a passive thing. It's not, 'Well, I'm a confirmed Catholic, I know the catechism, and I agree with Church teaching on an intellectual level; now I can go gambling, swearing, hating, and fornicating, and who cares about the consequences?' Faith is an ongoing process, a journey in which we're tested, as I'm being tested now. One must hang on to faith, through the easy times as well as during the hard times, right until death."

"Still sounds like we're saved by good works to me," she said. "Saved by the good works of faith."

"It's not about doing good deeds; it's about holding on to faith and never losing it."

"But doesn't Jesus say that the ones who go to heaven aren't those who say 'Lord, Lord,' but those who do His will? That is, doing good deeds?"

"Yes, but they're deeds that are informed and inspired by faith in God; and in order to continue to do good, it's a faith we must never lose."

"But I've never lost my faith," Camilla insisted. "I've done bad stuff, and I'm not proud of it, but I've done good, too. I've used this power I have, Nigrovum, to help people, to protect them from evil. Recently I saved a man from his abusive wife, a real bitch who used to hit him and belittle him in public. I believe God gave me this power, from the angels. I just have to make sure I don't misuse it."

"I'd like to believe you," Don said. "But if you use it the way you just did on the maitre d', or use it for procuring sex, then devils have usurped your 'angel power'."

"Why is sex so evil to you? Didn't God say, 'Be fruitful, and multiply?' What about that sexy poetry in the Song of Songs?"

Precocious little tart, isn't she? he thought.

Their food was served, and they began eating. Then he said, "I don't think sex is inherently evil; the good in sex must be understood within the context of marriage. A husband and wife make love to have children and raise a family. They don't have sex for fun."

"I didn't think sex was possible if it wasn't fun."

"A husband and wife may enjoy their passion, as long as they're deeply in love, and theirs isn't an unbridled passion. Otherwise, they'll end up like my parents."

"Now I think we're getting at it," she said.

"At what?"

"The source of your sexual repression."

"What sexual repression?" he asked.

"What happened between your Mommy and Daddy, Father?"

"My father was a womanizer, while my mother was an angel."

"There actually are good mothers out there?" she asked in surprise.

"Of course there are!" he said in equal surprise. "My father was an unrepentant sinner; he'd had many adulterous affairs when he was alive. Oh, how my poor mother suffered! That's my point, Camilla, about the dark side of sex: we're having fun, but we hurt other people when we have that fun. It isn't freedom, it's selfishness. Just before my mother died, she was so proud to see me ordained. She's looked down on me from heaven ever since, watching my every move. If I were to go to a hotel with you, it would break her heart."

"So, that's it," Camilla said. "Your 'proper' behaviour isn't about being a good Christian; it's all about pleasing Mommy."


"That's so sweet," she said. "You're such a good little mama's boy." She beamed at him, a look that thinly veiled a sneer.

"Stop that!" he said, angry with her slurs on his manhood.

"Really, it's adorable," she taunted, reaching over and caressing his cheek. "Keep doing what you're doing, you nice little boy."

He glared at her. "Camilla, that's not funny."

She kept beaming at him. "You sweet little boy...an innocent virgin."

"I'm as much a man as any other," he said, clearly ruffled by her teasing.


"You'll see," he said indignantly. "When we finish our meal, you'll see."

"I can't wait."


A half hour later, they were in a hotel room.

Camilla had found his true weakness: neither his sexual feelings nor his religious faith, but his easily wounded pride. As a child, Don indeed was a mama's boy, due to his constantly interfering, over-protective mother. He'd been made fun of for this during his school years, so his being neither a lover nor a fighter was a sensitive issue for him. Camilla was certainly a tease, but now she found a new way to tease a man into bed.

Though he was assuredly a virgin, Camilla's taunts at his filial obedience to his mother were enough to make him determined to prove his manhood...which he certainly did!

As soon as the door to their room was opened, she let her dress drop to her feet out in the hall, as insouciant of her nudity as he was embarrassed by it. He quickly picked up her dress; while his head was down getting it, she pushed her soft buttocks against his face, rubbing them left and right, and up and down. Then he got up and rushed her into the room. She kicked off her high heels as he locked the door, then they hurried over to the bed.

She lay on the bed on her back, and he pulled down his pants. After removing his pants, underwear, shoes, and socks, he was about to take off his shirt and collar.

"Oh, no, Father," she said. "Leave the collar on; you look sexier that way."

"Camilla, please," he insisted, removing the last of his clothes. "Have at least some respect for my faith." Now as naked as she, he got on the bed, on top of her.

She helped him feed his hard cock inside her wet vagina. As it slid inside, he couldn't believe how sweet the sensation was! And he was only beginning to understand the addictiveness of sex!

When his cock got half-way inside, she squealed loudly. "And you...want to...stay ce...libate? Ah!"

His cock pushed in another quarter of the way. "I'm not...sure I...want that...any more. Unh!" He got all the way in: her A-spot was vibrating with delight.

She screamed as he started thrusting aggressively. "Talent should...not be...wasted. Ah! Jesus says...that's a...sin. Oh!" He was filling in every happy cranny.

"Don't hide...your talent...under a bushel," he panted as he fucked.

"Hide it...in my...bush anytime." she squealed. "Ah!" She had her first orgasm.

"Don't blaspheme," he groaned.

"Oh, Father!" she screamed. "Your cock...feels so...good! Oh!"

"Call me...Don," he panted as he kept pounding away in her ecstatic cunt. Indeed, the only missionary work he'd succeeded at with her that night was their sex position on the bed.

"Oh, fuck me!" she screamed. "Oh, my God! Ah!" She gushed her second orgasm.

"Don't take...the Lord's name...in vain," he admonished in moans.

Now that the bedsheets were soaking with her come, she asked in her tremulous voice, "Wanna...put it...in my...ass?"

"No," he grunted, still fucking. "That's too...sinful for...me."

"OK," she sighed. "But you...don't want...to get...me knocked...up, do you? Oh!"

"Pregnant? No." He pulled his cock out, and she sat up on the bed. She pointed his dick at her breasts and started jerking him off.

"This is...a big one, Father," she sighed, her hand gently stroking the length of his shaft, which was about to blow.

"I'm...going to...," he panted.

"I know," she said, and indeed he did. He sprayed his first blast all over her right nipple; the second shot hit her left breast just under the areola; a third hit her cleavage. She gently rubbed the dripping residue on her belly.

He looked down at her come-soaked body. "That's disgusting," he said, feeling his guilt come back.

"No it's not," she said. "It's fun." Then she giggled lewdly.

Wanting redemption for himself, he said, "OK. I did my part. Now what about you? Will you receive Christ in your heart?"

"Father, I'm already a Catholic."

This answer, of course, didn't reassure him. He wasn't willing to give up on her, though.


On Thursday night, around midnight, Candice went back to her apartment after leaving Club Ritz early. She was a little depressed: though Camilla had made love to her onstage twice that night, Camilla had also made love to Desiree onstage--three times. Candice was swelling with jealousy. Her dope connection gave her more heroin, as well as marijuana, ecstasy, and ketamine; totally assured that Nigrovum would steer her away from endangering her bodily health, Candice got a needle ready.

A sudden knock on the door made her jump. She went to the door and opened it slightly. Dr. Davis was on the other side.

"Dr. Davis?" she asked. "What are you doing here? How'd you know where I live?"

"That's a good question," he said. "I don't know what brought me here, either. I wanted to find Camilla, and I felt myself almost pulled here: is she here?"

"No, she lives about a stone's throw away. Come in." Candice unlocked and opened the door, and he came in. "You had sex with Camilla, didn't you?"

"How'd you know? Did you see us go into a private room at Club Ritz on Monday night?" They sat at her kitchen table.

"No, I just know that Camilla has this 'way' with her lovers. She leaves them with more than just a great lay. Do you want a drink?" Candice poured herself a glass of Jack Daniels and put some ice in it.

"Oh, no thanks," he said. She sat down with her drink and sipped it. Then he looked at her with an uncharacteristically lecherous smile. "Though Camilla isn't here, maybe you and I could..."

"So," she said, smiling back at the handsome man, "you did like what you saw on Friday night, at the party."

"Yeah," he said, snickering lewdly. "You have as beautiful a body as Camilla. I remember."

"Thank you. Shall I call her? The more, the merrier." She reached for her cell-phone.

"Great idea," he said, chuckling.

Candice called Camilla, and she arrived in fifteen minutes.

"Hi, Dr. Davis," she said, hugging him as soon as she got in Candice's kitchen. "So, why the change? You weren't half this willing to fuck on Monday night. What happened to that good family man?"

"Well," he said, frowning. "I thought my wife was a good family woman, until she confessed something to me earlier tonight. After my moment of guilty fun with you at Club Ritz on Monday night, I went home hating myself; to assuage my guilt, I took my wife to bed as soon as I walked in the door of my house. We made mad, passionate love."

The girls frowned slightly, sensing already what he was going to say. His wife has Nigrovum in her blood now, Camilla thought.

"Then I learned that she, the very next day, had gone to a hotel with my next-door neighbour, a handsome marine, a bragging stud of a man I absolutely loathe! She was in tears when she told me tonight, and if it had been anyone else, I would have forgiven her, knowing what I'd done with you, Camilla. But why did she have to be with that fucker! Why him of all men?" Davis shouted.

"Please, Doctor," Candice said. "I have whiny neighbours."

"Sorry," he said, almost in tears now. "She says she was with him just that one time, and that she didn't know what had come over her, some fire burning in her heart."

Camilla knew exactly where that fire had come from, of course.

"I don't believe her, that this was her first time with him," he said, fighting back sobs. "I know I'm guilty of adultery, too, but why did she have to be with him? I did it with you only once, Camilla; who knows how many times she's done it with that asshole?"

Probably only once, Camilla thought.

"Anyway, when she told me, I pretended to be forgiving," he continued. "I didn't yell at her or anything, but I'm sure she saw the anger in my eyes, however hard I tried to hide it. I left the house, having told her I wanted to take a walk. I went to Club Ritz; I got there around midnight or so, hoping to find you, Camilla, but you'd already left. I was so upset, and I so badly wanted to find you, or Candice--to help me find you. Since I knew you wanted me, I thought I could cheat lots of times to repay my cheating wife, fuck for fuck. I was so frustrated, standing outside of Club Ritz, not knowing at all where you were...then I felt something--it was weird--telling me to come right here. I can't explain it, but we're all here now, in a perfect place to have sex."

"I can explain it," Camilla said. "Nigrovum."

"Nigrovum?" he asked. "What's that?"

"It's a power all three of us now have," Candice explained. "It can make you do or find anything you want, apparently. We don't know for sure where we got it from: outer space? Who knows? But it seems to get passed on to people like an STD, only it makes us powerful instead of weak. Nigrovum's why Camilla recovered so fast from the speedball overdose last Friday. It's also why I have a heroin habit, but I don't look at all like a junkie."

"That's so fucked up," he said. "I should examine my blood under a microscope and find out what this is."

"You'll see microscopic black eggs in your blood, piss, and shit," Camilla said. "I know a doctor in Vancouver who's researching this: Dr. Singh.

"Can you give me his e-mail address?" Davis asked.

"Later," Camilla said. "I'm horny as always, and I never found a good lover at Club Ritz tonight. Let's fuck: all this talk about cheating and Nigrovum is ruining the mood."

"No good lovers, eh?" Candice asked. "What about Desiree?"

"Oh, she went home with her boyfriend," Camilla said. "She's as bi as we are. C'mon, guys--into Candice's bedroom."

Into the bedroom the three of them went. Candice had been wearing a white blouse and a long, blue denim skirt, all of which immediately came off to reveal light aqua-coloured lace underwear. Camilla was in a tight white T-shirt and denim shorts, which also came off to reveal her nude body. Davis had been wearing a navy blue suit; though Camilla wanted him to keep it on and take out only his cock, he wanted to take it all off, justifiably worried that her gushing would mess up so expensive a suit.

He got on the bed, lying on his back. Now-naked Candice got on top of him in the cowgirl position, and Camilla sat on his face. Candice slowly fed his cock in her wet vagina, moaning and sighing as it slid in. Davis' tongue flickered with lightning speed against Camilla's rock-hard clit; both girls were sighing and squealing at soprano pitches. The girls kissed and felt each others' tits as they bounced on Davis' face and groin. After tonguing Camilla's pussy for a while, he held her buttocks open wide so his face and tongue could roam all over her immaculately clean butt-crack. His cock massaged Candice's G-spot, and after several minutes of hard thrusting, he made her come. Camilla buried his face in her come soon after.

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