Saskia's Fart Hole

Belinda wanted her daughter to look her best for her first meeting with the vicar. The problem was, Saskia did not own any nice clothes. Belinda suggested that Saskia might like to borrow some clothes from her own wardrobe, perhaps a skirt and a blouse, or a floral dress, but Saskia was not interested. She said she would rather wear a tracksuit to church. Belinda pleaded with her, saying that she should dress nicely to meet the vicar, but Saskia said she didn't care. It was Sunday morning, and Saskia was sat on the sofa in the front room, wearing her pyjamas and eating dry cereal straight from the packet.

"What is he going to care what I'm dressed like?" Saskia asked her mother.

"He's going to come round for Sunday lunch after the service, we want to make a good impression," explained Belinda. Belinda was busily ironing a dress.

"Why?" asked Saskia, scooping another handful of Shreddies into her mouth.

"Hopefully he is going to give us some money to help with the bills."

"We probably shouldn't dress too nicely then, he's more likely to help us if he thinks we're poor. Anyway, what does he want from us in return for the money?"

"Nothing, he's just going to give it out of the goodness of his heart." Belinda was trying to sound convincing. "He's a very caring man."

Saskia snorted derisively. "No man ever gave a woman money without expecting something in return."

"Saskia darling, have you taken a shower today?" said Belinda, sniffing the air around her daughter.

"I took one on Thursday. I've not really left the house since then, so I'm fine."

"Saskia, please take a shower before we go to church. And make sure you wash down there."

Saskia giggled loudly. "So he doesn't want anything in return from us, but you want me to dress nicely and make sure my minge is clean?"

"Saskia darling, please don't say 'minge', it's such a vulgar word for it. If you must refer to it at all, say 'my lady bits'."

"Bleurgh," said Saskia screwing up her face. "That sounds so much worse than minge."

"Also, don't just wash your one at the front, make sure that the hole round the back is clean too. If we're going to be sat in church with nice people you don't want to be smelly."

Eventually, Belinda managed to persuade her daughter to take a shower and wash her front and back bottoms, and put on a clean tracksuit. She outright refused to put on the makeup that Belinda offered her, but she did let her mother brush her hair and twist it into a plait.

As they walked to the church together, Belinda looked over at her daughter. "Did you put a bra on, Saskia dear?"

"Mum, I never wear a bra," sighed Saskia.

Kyle, meanwhile was sat in the office of the vicarage, drinking his morning coffee with rum and going over the notes for his sermon. He was planning to preach on the importance of kindness to strangers. Never having been one to rely on the scriptures for his preaching, he was instead going to share a story from his own life as a sermon illustration. It was the story of how as a boy, he had helped his father rescue a group of ducklings that had fallen into a cattle grid. The story was almost entirely false, being loosely based on something he saw on TV once, but he thought it would go over well with the punters and that's what really mattered. He finished his coffee, poured a shot of rum into the mug and drank it, and was about to get up and put his robes on when the phone rang. He was tempted to not answer it, not wanting to be late for the service, but curiosity got the better of him and he picked up the handset.

It was a phone call from a young man in his congregation called Tod. He was experiencing a terrible crisis of conscience after something that had happened last night, and he desperately needed to talk to the vicar but he felt too stricken by guilt to be able to come to the church that morning. Kyle asked Tod to clarify what had happened the night before. Tod said that he and his wife, Abigail, after having drank too much prosecco, had had a threesome with one of his wife's friends, Bernice. Kyle quizzed Tod on this, getting him to explain in great detail exactly what had taken place. Tod tearfully confessed his wrong-doing in graphic terms. Kyle got a powerful erection while hearing Tod's confession, but after ten minutes of listening to the young man and pleasuring himself, he realised he was going to be late for the service and promptly wrapped the call up, saying he would phone Tod back that evening so they could go over his confession again.

Kyle walked briskly down the road from the vicarage to St Lucy's with a spring in his stride. The church bells were tolling, the sun was shining, and he was going to the Pocock's for Sunday lunch. He was feeling pretty good about his life. He went over his sermon in his head, and then found himself thinking about the lurid details of the young man's private life discussed in the phone call. "I love this job," Kyle muttered to himself as he went into the churchyard. A small group of church-goers were gathered around the west door of the church, he waved to them and bid them a good morning in his deep, booming voice as he approached, his robes billowing around him in the breeze and making him look like a prophet.

The service went well. The sermon went over very well. Kyle could tell when his preaching was on form. The congregation were eating out of his hand, so to speak. He scanned the faces of the huddled masses on the pews from his vantage point in the pulpit, he saw some eyes watery and glinting, faces filled with emotion from his powerful preaching. There was a couple of people he did not recognise in the congregation. He saw a beautiful young black lady sat next to Tod's wife, Abigail, and he felt his cock twitching under his robes as he remembered the phone call earlier. Tod had not specified that Bernice was black.

After the sermon, the congregation lined up at the rail and knelt before Kyle, and he walked along the line, looking down at them and distributing a wafer to each one for them to eat. Beatrice, the church warden, followed after him, giving each of the people a sip of wine from the chalice she carefully held in front of her.

After the service, Kyle as usual stood by the door to speak to the congregants as they left. He noticed that Belinda and the young lady with her were waiting at the back of the church near the font. He went over to greet them.

"Belinda, so good to see you. And this must be your lovely daughter Saskia," Kyle said in his most ingratiating way.

Saskia giggled nervously, a high pitched sound that was so loud it echoed through the building and drew stares.

Kyle went into the vestry to change out of his robes, and reappeared five minutes later, wearing smart black trousers and a black shirt with a clerical collar, and holding a plastic carrier bag that clanked with the four bottles of communion wine he had taken from the church's cellar.

Rather than the three of them walking across town to the Pocock's residence, they went up the road to where Kyle's car, an old BMW saloon, was parked outside the vicarage. Saskia climbed into the back, and Kyle gave her the bag of wine bottles to hold. Belinda sat in the front next to Kyle. As the car pulled away, a few empty beer cans rolled out from under the seat and clattered against Saskia's trainers.

Kyle parked on the street outside Belinda's house, and she showed him inside. It was a small squalid semidetached house on the second roughest estate in town. Belinda showed the vicar into the living room, and he sat down in the easy chair. Saskia sat in her usual spot on the sofa, and Belinda went and fetched some glasses for the wine. She only had one wine glass, so she let her guest drink out of that. She had a tumbler with spots printed on it for herself. Saskia did not drink, as alcohol interfered with her medication, so she had a can of Pepsi instead. Kyle opened a bottle of the communion wine and poured a large glass for himself and Belinda.

He proposed a toast before they drank: "Here's to friends helping each other!"

Belinda went into the kitchen to prepare lunch. Saskia eyed the vicar nervously. She was aware that she had not said a word to him so far. She was not a naturally timid person but there was something about him that she found unnerving. He was a big man with an enormous beard, but neither of those things normally bothered her about men, in fact she usually found big, hairy men attractive. But it was the look in his eyes that worried her. He looked a little crazy, she thought.

Kyle took a gulp of wine and then smiled at Saskia broadly, so his teeth glinted amongst the bushiness of his beard.

"It's a lovely home you have here," he said to Saskia.

"It's all right," she replied.

"Did you enjoy coming to church this morning?" he asked.

"Not really, no," she said.

"Oh really? Why's that?" he asked pleasantly. He was doing his best to be avuncular. He did not want to frighten this girl, not yet.

"I prefer to sleep in the mornings. I'm never normally up that early unless I've been awake all night. And all the singing and candles and incense gave me a headache."

Kyle chuckled good-naturedly. "It does that to me too, sometimes."

"So, mum said I should wash my minge before you came round. Why's that then?" Saskia realised this probably wasn't the right thing to say when she saw the look of astonishment on the vicar's face. "Sorry, I mean my lady bits, I washed my lady bits."

"Well, Saskia. Let me explain," began the vicar. "Your mother has told me that she needs some financial help, money for bills and rent and such. And the church is happy to give her that. But it is only fair that as a minister of the church, I receive something in return for the help I am going to give to you. What do you think Saskia, does that sound fair?"

"Well, not really. It's not your money to start with, it's just what other people put in the collection plate. And it's my mum you're giving the money to, not me, so where does my minge come into it?"

"Saskia," the vicar sighed. "Would it put your mind at rest if I told you that I had no interest whatsoever in your minge?"

"Not really, no."

Just then Belinda came back in from the kitchen, holding a wine bottle. "Lunch is on, it should take about fifteen minutes. Would you like another glass of this delicious wine, Kyle?"

"Yes, that would be lovely," said Kyle standing up from the chair and holding his glass. "Come with me into the kitchen a moment, Belinda."

"Oh, OK," said Belinda and showed Kyle into the kitchen. The kitchen was small and squalid like the rest of the house, but it was relatively clean. The microwave oven was lit up and whirring, speedily cooking the food it contained, and the table was set for lunch. "What's the matter Kyle?" asked Belinda.

"Your daughter," said Kyle, taking the bottle of wine from Belinda and pouring himself another large glass. "She is aware of the role she has to play? She understands what is expected of her, doesn't she?"

"Yes, I've told her that she is to be nice to you."

"I'm not paying for her to be nice!" snapped Kyle. "She's going to have to do a bit more than be nice. I was expecting her to be all over me by now."

"Oh, she can just be a little bit shy around new people. And she has mental health problems as well, you know. She just needs a little bit of gentle persuasion. Tell me what it is you want to do, and I can get her to do it."

They went back into the front room together. Saskia was still sat on the sofa, drinking her Pepsi. Belinda sat down on the sofa next to her, and Kyle retook his seat in the easy chair.

"Saskia, dear. The vicar was saying what a pretty young lady you are. Why don't you stand up for a moment so we can see you properly?"

"Well, OK then," Saskia said, bashful but flattered. She put down her can of Pepsi and got to her feet. She was short and curvy like her mother. Her black tracksuit was tight around the curves of her bust and hips.

The vicar stared at her. "She is very pretty," he muttered to Belinda. "She's like you but not as old and fat."

"I looked like that when I was her age," said Belinda nostalgically.

"Before it all started sagging downwards," giggled Saskia, and the vicar laughed too.

"It will happen to you too, one day," warned Belinda.

"Old age doesn't come alone, does it mum?" said Saskia.

"Cheeky little mare! I'm not old; I'm thirty-seven!"

"There's nothing sagging down on you, is there, Saskia?" said the vicar, greedily gawking at her.

"I should hope not! I'm nineteen, and I take good care of myself!"

"Saskia, dear, why don't you turn around so the vicar can see what you look like from behind?"

"And what possible reason could the vicar have for wanting to know what I look like from behind?" said Saskia with a giggle, slowly turning around on the spot. "I know what you two are up to." She faced away from the vicar, and then looked back over her shoulder at him.

"What do you think we're up to, Saskia?" he asked, grinning at her.

"You think you can get me into bed, don't you?"

"You're not really shy at all, are you?" said the vicar.

"I'd be even less shy if you gave us the money we need," Saskia said pointedly.

"Money isn't an issue," said the vicar. His prick was growing stiff while he looked a the girl and it made him say things that he didn't really mean. "I'll make sure you and your mum are both well taken care of."

"Saskia, honey," said Belinda. "Why don't you bend over so the vicar can see your bum better?"

"Oh, it's like that, is it?" said Saskia, mockingly. She turned around and strutted across the carpet to where Kyle was sat. She stood in front of him, and stared down at his face. He looked back at her, his steely grey eyes staring into her muddy brown eyes. She stared him down. He looked away first, glancing at his wine glass that was stood on the arm of the chair, and she snorted triumphantly.

Saskia turned around and faced away from the vicar, then lent forward and rested her hands on the coffee table, bent double with her bum in the air in front of him. Kyle sat forward in his chair, moving his face closer to Saskia's behind, which looked plump and round, filling the tight black material of her tracksuit trousers. He went to grab Saskia's bum, but she quickly stood up and stepped out of his reach.

"Ah-ah," she said, and giggled at him.

"Come and sit on my knee," said the vicar, patting his thigh with one hand. Saskia obediently sat on the big man's lap and put her arms around his neck.

"With your black beard and all dressed in black, you look like an evil Santa," she told him. "Should I tell you what I want for Christmas?"

"I might have something I can give you," Kyle growled in her ear. She could feel his erection pressing against her leg through the material of her clothes.

She giggled. "What I really want is enough money for the rent, and that cannot wait until December."

"Have you ever kissed a man with a beard before?"

"Not a man with one as big as yours." Her face was very close to his. She could smell the alcohol on his breath.

In the kitchen, the microwave beeped.

"I think lunch is almost ready," said Belinda. "I'll go and dish up, come through when you're ready."

The vicar put his hand on the back of Saskia's head, feeling the tight knot of her plaited hair, and then pulled her in closer to him until their lips met. She found it strange that she was kissing the man who she had watched preaching earlier. He forced his tongue into her mouth, it felt fat and hot, he was licking her teeth and that felt weird to her, but she let him do it.

He kissed her for a few moments more, then they went into the kitchen and sat at the table while Belinda served lunch. It was chicken with potatoes, peas and carrots, all heated to perfection in the microwave. Saskia sat opposite Kyle, and Belinda sat next to her daughter. Kyle poured himself and Belinda more wine.

Kyle felt a foot brush against his under the table, he wasn't sure whose it was at first, but he eventually decided it was Saskia's. She looked at him and he raised an eyebrow. She grinned at him, slipped a trainer off and then trailed her toe up his shin.

"I really enjoyed your sermon this morning," said Belinda. "It was such a beautiful story that you told."

Kyle slipped his shoes off and put his socked foot against Saskia's crotch. Her eyes widened.

"It was so lovely of you to rescue those little ducks," continued Belinda.

"I've always had an affinity for cute little creatures," said Kyle, rubbing his big toe against Saskia's camel toe through the material of her tracksuit trousers.

While they ate together, Kyle was able to compare the mother and daughter's breasts side by side.

"A nice perky little pair of mangoes," said Kyle, pointing at Saskia's breasts with his knife. "And a great big pair of watermelons," he said pointing to Belinda's. Saskia laughed but Belinda looked a little peeved.

Kyle ate the microwaved roast dinner with a great appetite. He forked it into his mouth and got gravy on his beard.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked Saskia in between mouthfuls of food.

"No, well yes. Not really. Sort of."

Kyle laughed at the girl's evasive response. "Ah OK. What I mean to ask Saskia, is are you a virgin?"

"No, I've done it loads of times."

"Yes, but are you a virgin at the back?"

"What's that?" She was confused by his odd phrasing.

"Have you ever taken it up the arse?" he asked bluntly.

"No, certainly not!" She sounded shocked at the suggestion. "Although my ex wanted to do that to me once, but he was massive and I told him there's not a chance in hell. I said that hole is meant only as an exit, nothing is going up there."

"We shall see about that," said Kyle with a grin. "How much is due for the rent, Belinda?"

After they had finished lunch, Belinda offered Kyle another glass of wine. Kyle took the bottle from her and swigged directly from it. Saskia helped her mum with the washing up and drying and packing the dishes away, while Kyle stayed sat at the kitchen table, drinking wine from the bottle and watching the two women.

After the women had finished tidying away and Kyle had drained the bottle, they all went upstairs together. Saskia's room was so cramped and messy that it was difficult to even open the door, let alone for the three of them to fit in there together, so instead they went to Belinda's bedroom.

Belinda's bedroom had a big metal framed double bed. Saskia climbed on the bed and the springs squeaked and creaked. Saskia crouched on it on all fours, and Kyle pulled a chair over and sat by the side of the bed, his head level with Saskia's bum. At Kyle's instruction, Belinda pulled her daughter's tracksuit trousers down, baring her bottom to the vicar. Saskia did not wear any underwear, one of her quirks was that she never wore underwear.

Kyle surveyed the pale exposed girl-flesh. "Such exquisite cheeks!" he wheezed in a hushed tone. "The cutest little arse I've seen in a long time."

Saskia guffawed and looked over her shoulder at the red-faced priest. "You like that, do you?"

Saskia did have a very attractive bum. It was small, but nicely rounded. A very pleasing shape.

Belinda pulled Saskia's waistband down to her knees then stood back, looking at the excited priest. She gasped with surprise as she saw him unzip his trousers and pull out his aroused member, a swollen little prick that stuck out of his flies like an angry lizard peering out of its burrow. Kyle began to stroke himself as he looked at Saskia's ass, the sexual tension getting the better of him. He leaned forward to study her bottom more closely, his face close to her.

"Pull her cheeks apart so I can see her hole," Kyle instructed Belinda tersely.

"Oh mum, he is a dirty bugger isn't he?" giggled Saskia, as Belinda put her hands on her daughter's buttocks and spread them to show Kyle the tiny brown hole that nestled in the cleft in between them, then let them go so they sprang shut again in front of his face.