Rachel Poses for Her Priest

I'm a Roman Catholic priest in my early forties and I find celibacy hard. I masturbate of course, I use porn and I know the places in the big city where I can go unrecognised and enjoy the pleasures of the flesh with just a condom between me and mortal sin. And there's my sweet young nineteen year old altar boy Michael who gives me a helping hand at mass on Sundays, and in other ways at other times. But occasionally I have a more satisfying opportunity to enjoy fleshly pleasures.

A new vicar, Rev. Wilson, had started at our local Anglican Church, St. Cuthberts. In a spirit of ecumenical unity we agreed to preach in each other's churches. So one afternoon I went to St. Cuthberts' vicarage to meet with Rev. Wilson to talk through our sermons and plan the church services.

The vicarage door was opened to me by Rev. Wilson's wife Rachel. She's about my age and attractive with neat dark hair nearly to her shoulders. She was in a dark blue button up the front dress ending just at her knees with her legs in tan nylons. Her dress clung to the curves of her body and showed anyone as interested as me that she had the kind of mature figure I'd savoured in my porn. I'd met Rachel before and from our first meeting she'd become a regular and enthusiastic participant in my masturbation fantasies.

Rachel greeted me with a friendly smile and led me to the vicarage study. As Rev. Wilson and I sat in his study chatting about church life in general Rachel brought us tea. My eyes involuntarily explored her from her bulging breasts to her shapely legs and as always I hoped she didn't notice I was mentally undressing her. We were going through our sermons and the order of service on the big monitor screen of the desktop computer when the phone rang in the house outside. A moment later Rachel's head poked through the door.

"It's you know who," she said.

The look on Rev. Wilson's face told me he knew exactly who it was on the phone. He apologised for the disturbance but I fully understood. Every church pastor has problem families in his parish and regularly has to deal with urgent and unexpected pastoral crises.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Rev. Wilson said as he left.

I settled down in front of the computer screen going through the sermon I'd prepared. A couple of minutes later the study door opened and Rachel came in.

"He'll be at least an hour," she said, and the smile on her face was as mischievous as I've ever seen on a woman's face.

As she spoke she put her knee up onto the chair next to mine, lifting the hem of her dress in the process and exposing quite a length of her nylon clad thigh.

"Don't think I haven't noticed how you look at me, Father" Rachel said addressing me by my proper title as a priest of The Church. "Do you want to see his dirty pictures of me?" Her voice was soft but with an edge of excitement.

Without waiting for my reply Rachel reached across me brushing her breasts against my arm as she took the computer mouse. She opened the file menu and opened a folder, then a file. A moment later I felt as if an electric shock had hit me.

There on the screen was a picture of Rachel, nude except for red high heels and tiny white panties pulled down her bare thighs with her legs as wide as the panties stretched round her thighs would allow. She was in the kitchen of the vicarage standing bending over the kitchen table with her big breasts hanging pendulously over the table with her deep red-brown nipples brushing its top. The view was partly from behind, and showed her smooth round bottom gleaming under the kitchen lights. She paused long enough for me to take that picture in then clicked to the next. There was Rachel squatting on the kitchen table nude but for those red high with the camera pointed full frontal at her pussy. Her vagina was pulled open by her spread legs and her pink labia were showing through her dark cunt bush. I sat transfixed in stunned silence as Rachel flicked through more pictures, all every bit as kinky and erotic as my own porn collection.

"Do you like my body? I love showing myself to men. But I'm the vicar's wife. I can't wear skimpy tops and short skirts or tiny bikinis on the beach." I sensed her frustration. "He shows his pictures of me to other men in the church to wank over."

She reached down and opened a desk drawer. Out of it she pulled out some women's panties.

"He masturbates over my knickers," Rachel said. She held the panties out in front of me. They were cream coloured cotton with a pink pattern, very brief and quite stained. "He thinks I don't know."

She put the panties down on the desk, stood and slowly unbuttoned her dress down the front. It opened and she let it fall away behind her. She was wearing stockings, pastel grey lacy edged satin panties, and no bra. The curves of her body, her legs and her big firm breasts were everything I'd dreamed of in my masturbation fantasies.

"I put stockings on and took my bra off for you."

Rachel reached down and touched the ridge of my bulging erection.

"You're up hard. Do you want to masturbate over the panties I'm wearing now? I love watching men stroke their cocks off."

Again without waiting for my reply, Rachel slipped her panties off and tossed them onto the desk. Her neat bush of dark cunt fur erotically underlined by her stocking tops was as exciting as I'd imagined. She nudged her pussy toward me. My hand instantly cupped over her mound with my fingers ruffling her juice-moistened pubic hair and my fingertips sliding under her between her legs, exploring her vagina slit and teasing her clitoris. Rachel gave a deep moan and her breasts swung as she nuzzled her cunt mound hard against the palm of my hand.

"Are you enjoying your first feel of a woman's pussy, Father?" She said, giving me a mischievous smile. "Or perhaps you've been a naughty boy and it isn't your first feel."

I guessed my fingers must have told her I knew how a woman likes to be touched. A delightful novice nun had taught me that when I was eighteen at my all-boys Catholic boarding school. She'd also introduced me to the pleasures a woman's hands and lips can give a boy. Perhaps that's another story.

"Go on! Get your cock out! I want to watch you wank over my knickers!" Rachel's excited voice was getting insistent.

I let go of Rachel's pussy and quickly unzipped and dropped my trousers. I like sexy male underwear and I was in a tiny deep red thong much briefer than Rachel's panties. The back was just a thin strap nestling in my bum crack and the front pouch was barely big enough to hold my flaccid penis and balls, let alone the steel hard erection pushing out between my legs.

"Sexy undies!" Rachel said on seeing my thong. "I was right Father. You are a naughty boy."

Rachel's hand went straight down to stroke the huge bulging ridge of my shaft through the thin taut fabric of my thong and the erection-swollen head of my penis poking out above the waistband.

I slipped my thong down and my fully erect penis bounced out and swung stiffly. Though I'm a priest and celibate I knew my seven inches of hard muscle bending up from my thickly haired balls was nothing to be ashamed of. I'd often fantasised about exposing my naked sex kit to women in my church. I'd never dared do so, but on several occasions priests had unzipped and exposed themselves to me and asked for a hand job or suck off. I confess that sometimes I'd obliged them. I grunted involuntarily with the sudden burst of sexual pleasure as she felt my stiff penis, lightly stroking its smooth length and caressing its big soft head.

"So big and so stiff!" Rachel gasped excitedly. "Go on! Wank over my knickers!"

In the dormitories of my all boys school I'd learned how to put on a show to impress other boys with my masturbation technique. I'd learned to thrust, make lots of noise grunting, gasping and talking dirty, and most of all I'd learned how to edge, holding my straining penis in my hand on the almost agonising edge of orgasm before I wanked myself through to a cum. Through theological college, surrounded by young men as frustrated by celibacy as I was, I'd had plenty of opportunity to practice and perfect those skills. I knew how to put on a good show for Rachel.

But first my hands enjoyed Rachel's naked body. My hands explored her cunt, her smooth round bottom, her smooth thighs and her big soft breasts. As I ran my hands over her, Rachel's hand played with my naked penis and balls. The feel of her naked body against my hands and her soft fingers on my cock and balls roused my straining penis to the peak of erection stiffness and pleasure sensitivity. Pre-cum oozed over my cock head and I struggled not to cum.

I spread my legs, lifted my clerical shirt off out of the way so I was naked above my thighs. I thrust my penis forward towards the grey panties on the desk. I gripped Rachel's bottom to pull her naked body against mine. Her big soft breasts squeezed against my arm and her hairy pussy brushed against my thigh. Another thing I'd long since learned was that though masturbation was an exquisite solitary pleasure, wanking with an audience added penis-straining erotic excitement, and best of all was a partner's naked body for my spare hand to play with as I pumped my cock.

I wrapped my whole fist round my straining hard, pre-cum lubed shaft and began to tug and stroke full length from my fist slamming into my bush of pubic hair to my hand catching my corona ridge and sliding over my swollen pleasure-sensitised cock head. With my spare hand I fondled and explored Rachel's naked bottom and thighs. On the computer screen Rachel was doing the splits nude on a bed, leaning back on her hands to arch her back so her breasts swung up and out. I grunted and gasped noisily and snarled out words unbecoming of a priest. But Rachel's smile at things like:

"Wanna fuck your cunt hard you dirty slut!" told me she was loving every word.

As I masturbated Rachel fondled my backside with one hand, reaching under me to tickle my arse. With her other hand she picked up her panties and held them just in front of my penis. She let the smooth satin deliciously brush over my sensitive cock head just the way I like to brush my erect cock with women's panties from my own collection imagining the feel of a woman's soft fingers and lips. I edged for as long as I could before in my exploding climax I involuntarily clenched my buttocks and rammed my cock forward into the folds of Rachel's panties. As my spurt of semen splashed over her panties Rachel's hand gripped my backside hard and she squealed with excitement.

We just had time to dress, clean up where some of my semen had splashed over the desk, re-set the computer and put the cotton panties away in the desk drawer before we heard Rev. Wilson arrive back. Rachel didn't put her semen soaked panties back on but thrust them into my hand before she hurried out of the study. I stuffed her panties into my briefcase.

After that I couldn't get Rachel out of my mind. That night as I masturbated on my lonely bed I soaked her grey satin panties again. Even when a couple of evenings later Michael visited me I saw Rachel in the porn women we ogled together. His fingers on my penis were Rachel's. As I ran my fingers over his young buttocks and thighs, as soft and smooth as a girl's his naked body and soft pubic hair were Rachel's. Michael's hand took my penis deliciously to a semen spurting orgasm, but in my mind it wasn't his Vaseline-lubed hand round my straining penis but the juice-wetted vagina I'd felt between Rachel's legs. I nearly grunted "Rachel!" as I spurted my cum.

I thought Rachel would only ever be a fond memory, a panty fetish and masturbation fantasy. Then a couple of weeks later it happened.

It was a weekday evening and I was hearing confessions, that Roman Catholic practice where the penitent come to confess their sins to to their priest for absolution. I hear only their voices as they confess to me through the almost opaque grill between me and them in the little confessional booth in my church.

Even though I can't see my penitents I know my congregation well enough to recognise their voices. I recognise Michael as he confesses the dirty things he's done with other boys. I recognise his father as he confesses his addiction to porn, probably the same web sites and magazines I'm into. I recognise Bridget as she confesses yet another infidelity with other men. As I hear her I think of her body and fantasise about her committing infidelity with me.

But that evening, almost at the very end of the period for confession, I heard a voice I didn't recognise but which sounded familiar. It was a woman's voice and a woman's head I could see dimly through the grill.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned," she began in the traditional opening. Then she continued. "I have shown another man my husband's nude pictures of me. I showed him my underwear and naked body and let him play with me. I asked him to show me his naked penis and pleasure himself over my knickers and then I gave him my knickers to play with."

I didn't need to fantasise to imagine who was on the other side of the grill. Rachel paused then continued.

"And since then I've pleasured myself thinking about that man and what I'd like him to do with me. I've come here without my husband knowing. I've put stockings on again for you."

With that she left the booth. With the memory of Rachel's naked body filling my mind I hardly heard the last couple of confessions.

When a few minutes later the hour of confessions ended I left the booth. There was Rachel in my church, kneeling in an attitude of prayer. She was the only person in the building. I went to the door, locked it and went to her. She was in a knee length figure-hugging blue dress with sheer black nylons and black high heels. As I approached her she stepped her high heeled foot up onto one of the bench pews. She pulled her dress smoothly up her thigh far enough to show me her stocking tops and bare thigh above.

My hand started on her uplifted knee, ran up her stockinged thigh lifting her skirt enough to show me she was in black panties with a white petal pattern. My hand lingered briefly on that so erotic boundary between her stocking top and her bare thigh then stroked her along the panty gusset between her legs. Rachel gasped and spread her legs a little wider.

"There's only one penance for a whore as sinful as you," I said. "You are to expose your naked body to me to administer the punishment your sins of the flesh deserve."

Rachel laughed.

"You dirty pervert. You're as kinky as my husband. Go on. Undress me."

I was only too pleased to help a penitent with her religious duties. I unzipped her dress at the back, slipped it down her body and let it drop round her high heels. She stepped out of it. Those black patterned panties were as brief as my thong had been, only just covering her cunt. I fondled her mound through them, fingering the line of her love slit, and slipped my hand down inside them. Her cunt fur was wet with her juice.

Her bra matched her panties. Its straps were thin and the cups were barely big enough to sling her big breasts. I remembered seeing that bra and panty set in some of the pictures she'd shown me. I unclipped her bra behind her back with one hand. That was another skill I'd learned with my novice nun. Rachel's breasts bounced out and swung deliciously heavily. My hands were instantly on them caressing their warm soft roundness, and she gasped excitedly as I flicked her peaking erect nipples.

Rachel bent over one of the pew benches with her panty-clad bottom toward me and her big breasts swinging as they hung under her. She wiggled her bottom at me inviting me to pull her thong down. I ran my fingers slowly down the thin thong strap in the valley between her cheeks and followed it under her. She spread her legs for my exploring hand and trembled and gave a little gasp as my hand brushed the sensitive inside tops of her spread thighs and then stroked her vagina through the thin taut smooth satin. I pulled her thong down and let it drop. She kicked it aside.

Nude but for stockings and high heels she got onto the pew, kneeling on its cushioned top with her legs as wide as she could get them and leaning on the pew back in front of her. Her smooth well rounded buttocks gleamed under the evening light streaming through the windows high in the church wall and her dark furred pussy peeped out just below her bum cheeks. She looked at me over her shoulder.

I Iifted off my shirt and dropped my trousers and briefs down round my thighs. My big hard stick was bending up in front of me feeling taut enough to snap.

"Here's my big hard stick to punish you for your sins," I said, prodding her bottom with my hard up cock.

I fondled her bottom with my hand, caressing her smooth warm buttocks and the tops of her thighs above her stocking tops. I reached my fingers between her spread legs to tickle her furry pussy. She gasped with excitement and arousal as I played with her, letting the lust swollen soft head of my big hard stick brush against the naked flesh of her buttocks and thighs.

I'd shown Rachel I knew how a woman likes to be touched. Now I showed her I knew how to pleasure a woman. She gasped, whimpered and squirmed with sexual pleasure as with my hand under her from behind I stroked her lightly and rhythmically along her juice sodden vagina lips. As her excitement and arousal rose I reached further into her vagina to find the little peak of her clitoris, a woman's ultimate pleasure centre. I circled it and criss crossed it methodically with my finger tip.

Suddenly she gasped, her body tensed, then her hips jerked forward and her whole body juddered. Her high pitched orgasm cry echoed through my church. Finally she relaxed, with my hand between her spread legs cupped over her sopping wet throbbing cunt. I poked her thigh with my penis head to tell her it was my turn now. Rachel moaned softly and strained her legs even wider. Her hungry eyes looked at me over her shoulder and she gasped just one word:

"Want!"

I held her spread thighs just at her stocking tops. She gave a deep sigh as I slid my hard hungry shaft in full length between her vagina lips till my pubic hair was between her bum cheeks. I felt her vagina clench round my shaft as warm, smooth, wet, and as deliciously tight as I'd imagined when she'd been wrapped round me in my masturbation fantasies.

I thrust into her methodically and patiently, showing her yet again I knew how to take my time. She whimpered and quivered in a second climax as I pumped her. When I came, in my explosion of pleasure as I ejaculated deep inside her I pushed her hard against the pew back with my orgasm thrust. I stood behind her holding her for few moments afterwards with my cock in her and my belly against her soft buttocks before I stepped back from her.

The delicious friction of sliding my still mostly erect penis out of her sent a last pulse of orgasm pleasure through my excited penis and a last spurt of semen over the back of her thigh. Rachel stayed kneeling on the pew while I watched a trickle of my semen run down the inside of her thigh and catch in her stocking top.

A few minutes later we were dressed.

"You dirty pervert," Rachel said, but with a grin. "You're a disgrace. I should report you to the Bishop."

"He's even worse than me," I replied, only partly in jest.

Rachel laughed. Then with a kiss on my cheek and a last pat of my hand on her bottom, her high heels went clickety-clack on the stone floor as my eyes followed her black nylon clad legs and the outline of her bottom under the tight cloth of her dress as she left my church.