The Organist Entertains Ch. 05

So exact and steady were his poundings that you could almost imagine him counting musical time in his head. 'One, two, one, two, in, out, in, out.' His balls slammed against her groin as he did so and the little gasps continued, her body moving in time with his. As before, she was still much quieter than everyone who had gone before. It was almost as though there was a reverential respect for those in eternal slumber downstairs. Gradually though, Peter could feel his cock tensing once more , then a final twitch and a great sigh as he filled up Josie's throbbing cavern, seconds after she too had spilled forth her own juices once more.

He lifted himself off of her and rolled over, landing on top of his jeans, and let out an agonising yell that was almost loud enough to waken the dead.

"What's the matter," said Josie sitting up and looking alarmed.

"I've just sat on my bloody belt buckle and it's digging in my arse!" said Peter, rubbing cheek of his right buttock. Josie burst out laughing.

"Let me rub it better for you," she said, leaning over him. Her slip had squashed up to around a three inch bulge around her navel and she pulled it off over her head. Her tits rubbed against Peter's chest as she tried to see what damage there was. "I can't see anything," she said. "You're making a lot of fuss over nothing."

"It's alright for you," said Peter, "You've not just been stabbed in a delicate place by the pin of your belt buckle."

"Well let me take your mind off the pain," she said, pushing him back on the bed again. Peter lay back, taking great care to avoid the offending article. His cock had depleted rapidly with all the pain, but her breasts rubbing against him had brought it straight back to life again. She took it in her hand and gently ran her hands up its shaft until it was completely hard once more.

Peter was now lying back with his head on the pillow and Josie knelt over him, her knees either side of his prostrate body and level with his hips. She positioned herself so that her cunt lips were above the tip of his throbbing cock and lowered herself down onto it until she it was fully encased then she started humping up and down. Her hands gripped his waist and her hair splayed around in front of her face as she did so and every now and then she would pause briefly and push it back behind her shoulders, only for it to immediately fall back again when she restarted. Her tits were jigging up and down and she was emitting the quiet little gasps as she had previously each time the bulbous tip of his cock hit the back of her cervix. She could feel her juices building as she banged away until with a loud sigh and she released her secretions out onto the bed sheet as he shot forth another dose of hot spunk inside her.

She lifted herself off of him and collapsed exhausted on top of him and they lay there together locked in embrace, with him gently stroking her hair and kissing her on the lips and she responding by kissing him back and stroking his now flaccid cock with her left hand.

Their amorous liaisons were brought to a premature end by the sound of the shrill ring of the doorbell. Josie jumped out of bed and ran to the window. She tweaked the curtain discreetly.

"Who is it?" said Peter coming to stand behind her.

"I don't know," she said. "There's a small white van down here with writing on the side but I can't read what's it says as it's too close to the house. I think it's a lady ringing."

Peter pulled the curtain back a bit further just as the person stepped back and looked up towards where they were peering out from. Her hand went up as if to wave, then noticing Josie's loose hair round her shoulders, her naked boobs and Peter's bare chest, it went to her mouth in surprise.

"It's Deborah Radcliffe," he said. "I thought I recognised the van. What could she want, I wonder?"

"I don't know," said Josie. "She can't have a wreath for anyone as we don't have a funeral now until Sid's on Tuesday. I'd better get dressed and go and see. I hope that nothing's happened to her mum."

Deborah was a fellow member of Peter's choir and was responsible for ensuring that the younger members were all kitted out and ready for the start of the service. She was the same age as Peter, an only child, who lived with her mother who was now in her early eighties. She had a part time job working for a company called 'Fleur's Flowers' and it was their van which Peter had recognised. Josie gesticulated down to her that she would be down in a few minutes and reached for her clothes.

Peter was surprised at the speed in which she dressed. She soon pulled her panties and tights back on and slipped her bra back on and fastened it at the same time as she slipped her feet back into her shoes. He watched as she folded her slip and slipped her arms through its straps, letting it ripple down over her slender body. She quickly smoothed it down before pulling on her blouse and buttoning it up and stepping into her skirt and fastening it. She pulled her hair back and fastened it up again with the familiar tortoiseshell claw and reached for her cardigan which she pulled on and fastened as she walked out of the bedroom door and down the stairs.

Peter quickly dressed himself. He looked at the bed with its rumpled and stained sheet and wondered what to do about it He decided to leave it and followed Josie down the stairs reaching the bottom just as she opened the door. Deborah was at the back door of her van. She had her 'uniform' on, a green and white striped tabard over her normal clothes, a white jumper and black skirt. She pulled out a large wreath of pink and white carnations.

"Hi," she said, looking a bit surprised to see Josie looking completely different to how she had been at the window a few minutes before. "I've brought this for Gladys Owen's funeral this afternoon. If you could just sign my docket please." She handed Josie a clipboard with her docket sheet on it. "I...er...hope I didn't...er...interrupt anything," she added.

"No, it's fine," said Josie as a matter of fact. "We had finished anyway. I think you've got the wrong address; we haven't got a Gladys Owen here. I think you want Richardson's?" She pointed to the name printed at the top of the docket. Deborah looked it in surprise.

"Well, I wonder what on earth made me think it was Stanlake's," she said shaking her head. "I can be so scatty sometimes! Oh, hello Peter," she said, spotting him in the hallway.

Peter nodded.

"Is your dad not around," said Deborah to Josie, peering into the hallway beyond.

"No, he's out laying Sheila Ryder to rest," said Josie, "He'll be back in about twenty minutes."

"Oh, right!" said Deborah in a knowing voice.

"Well, I've got work to do," said Josie, tactfully trying to get Deborah to leave. She was mindful that the bed upstairs needed changing and remaking to cover up what she had been doing with Peter. "And you'll need to get that to Richardson's, won't you?"

"Oh, yes," said Deborah. "They're leaving at two. I'd better go. Bye Josie, Bye Peter, see you at practice tomorrow." She put the wreath back into the van and got in the driving seat.

"Dopey cow!" said Josie as she drove off. "Fancy getting the wrong address! It's a good job it wasn't a private house. Can you imagine the shock it could give someone?" Peter chuckled.

"She's not that bad," he said. "You don't know her like I do. She's very good with the little ones. What are you going to do about the bed?"

"I'll change it and put the sheet in the wash," she said. "I'll tell dad I noticed it needed washing. He'll never know what we've been up to."

"Well, I'll get back to the garden," said Peter. "It's stopped raining now."

He was trimming the hedge when he heard the quiet purr of a car engine turn into the driveway. It was the empty hearse with just the driver and David in the passenger seat. David got out and opened the gate leading to the garage yard. The hearse drove through and David closed the gate behind it. He came over and spoke to Peter.

"How's it going?" he said, his jovial tone present once more. "You haven't been out here in all that horrible drizzle, have you? We got quite wet going into the church."

"No," said Peter. "I was going to pack up and go home and come back in the morning, but Josie invited me in for a drink and gave me a tour of the premises. It's a nice place that you've got here."

"Did she show you upstairs?" said David winking. "She always does, you know. She likes to give people a thorough tour."

"Yes," said Peter. He had an idea David knew what had happened. Perhaps Josie had done this before with visitors.

"I'll say one thing about her," said David. "She always keeps it clean and tidy. There are always fresh, clean sheets on the bed for whoever is on call. She'll make a good housewife when she's married."

Peter nodded and carried on clipping the hedge.

"What say we go for a pint in The Plough," said David. "I'll just go and change my jacket and see what Miss Josephine is up to, and then I'll join you. I guess you'll be in need of a drink after all your hard endeavours."

Peter nodded. He watched as David strode away towards the office. His throat felt quite dry after his chat with him.

"You never said a truer word, David," he said to himself as David went inside. "You never said a truer word!"