The Organist Entertains Ch. 01


Peter had a boner himself now at the sight of the vicar in her black slip and stockings. He put his arms round her and started kissing her again, rubbing his hands over the soft, slippery material. "Is this, um, normal attire under your normal Sunday skirts?" He asked, coming up for air again.

"It might be!" said Maxine, teasingly. "Come on, let's go upstairs."

They went up into Maxine's bedroom. Peter had expected it to be filled with holy pictures and perhaps a bible or two, but there were none. Pink sheets and a pink duvet cover adorned the bed and Maxine pulled them back. Pink curtains were at the windows at which full length net curtains also hung. A small cuddly teddy bear sat on the dressing table. Even the walls were pink. It was a typical girly bedroom. Peter could hear a car outside and went and looked cautiously out of the window. It was Abigail and her mum driving out of the church car park opposite. They had paused to speak to someone they knew. Maxine came and stood behind him. She brought her arms around his waist and began unfastening his trouser belt, then his zip and finally his trouser fastener. His trousers dropped to his ankles, leaving him in a pair of red tartan boxer shorts. She giggled at the sight of them as she bent down and helped him off with his shoes and socks before lifting each leg in turn to remove the trousers. Peter was still watching Abigail's mum as his boxers were pulled down and removed in the same way, his cock springing upright ahead of him. He could feel Maxine behind him, her slip rustling against his naked lower body. She started massaging his cock as she watched with him until the car drove away up the street. Peter couldn't help but wonder what they would think if they knew that he, a respected choirmaster, was in the vicar's bedroom with them both in their underwear. Oh, the shame!

That thought soon evaporated as a speck of precum appeared on the end of his cock. Maxine stooped to lick it off and he had an uninterrupted view down her slip to her bra and tits inside. The thought of what was to come made him even harder and soon Maxine had kicked off her shoes and was on her knees in front of him with his cock full in her mouth once more. Peter held the back of her head close to him as she alternated sucking and stroking his cock, feeling his balls until they were rigid, licking off the small globules of precum each time they appeared until with a final twitch and a huge sigh he shot a jet of hot milky spunk down her throat. She swallowed it readily and licked the excesses including some that was now trickling down his leg. She stood up and he pulled her to his body once more, kissing her and fondling her readily, and she was trying to retaliate by unfastening the buttons down the front of his shirt. Thankfully it was only a short sleeved one and eventually she got then undone and pulled it from his body.

Peter was now totally naked. His cock had receded slightly although the softness of Maxine's slip rubbing against him soon brought it springing back to life. Once more drops of precum formed at its tip and caught themselves on the front leaving small white stains. He pushed her back towards the bed and pulled its straps from her shoulders before letting it drop lifeless to her ankles. Maxine stepped out of it, leaving it where it lay. A pair of black lacy boy shorts and an equally lacy matching bra adorned her body together with the black hold-ups. Peter let out a low whistle.

"I take it that you approve?" said Maxine.

"Oh yes. Most certainly," said Peter in awe. "But I never expected anything as exquisite as this!"

"So what did you expect?" said Maxine. "Bridget Jones style, perhaps?"

Peter laughed. He'd seen her bra and panties the day before but they were just plain and white. These were something else.

"I guess I didn't realise that vicars could wear sexy undies," he said.

"And I didn't expect choir masters to wear red tartan boxer shorts!" countered Maxine.

"What did you expect?" said Peter. "White Y-Fronts and a matching vest?"

He smiled at her and she smiled back, shrugging her shoulders at this remark. Her bosom heaved as she did this causing her tits to gently ripple under the material. He paused for a moment then reached behind and soon had her bra unfastened. He lowered the straps from her shoulders, gently cupping her breasts as he did so. Her breasts were small but quite perky, the nipples already hard and bullet shaped. His fingers moved to the waistband of her boy shorts and slowly he eased them down past her stocking tops to her knees where gravity took over.

"Oh, Max," he whispered, ogling her almost naked body.

He stood back for a moment taking in the sight before him. Her brown eyes were filled with expectation, her hair resting gently on her shoulders, her tits with their perfectly round pink areolas, her navel and the mass of natural pussy hairs covering the gateway to heaven. His cock was rising again at the sight before him as he pushed her gently back towards the waiting bed and sat her on it. He knelt briefly and rolled each hold-up down her legs and off in turn, savouring the smell of her femininity. Now they were both totally naked in front of their maker. Maxine slid her legs onto the bed and lay back with her head on the pillow, her hair spread out either side. She closed her eyes and prayed in silence.

"For what I am about to receive, may I be truly thankful."

Peter joined her on the bed and began sucking her tits in turn. They were already hard. His right hand tickled her on the tummy just below her navel stimulating her to moan slightly before travelling south into the dense forest nearby. Her pussy lips were already moist and he inserted two of his fingers within, feeling around for a few seconds until he found her clit. The smallest of touches brought a little yelp and a gasp followed by a rush of wetness to his fingers, and so the exercise was repeated with similar results. Each time, the wetness increased and the yelps got slightly louder. Her breasts were rising and falling steadily as her gasps increased until with one loud gasp, she orgasmed out onto the sheet.

Peter allowed her a few minutes to catch her breath then spread her legs apart with her knees in the air and her feet flat on the bed. He knelt before the parted lips and this time started licking first the blobs of cum that were still evident, then deeper inside, stimulating her once more. Again she yelped and gasped as his tongue brushed against her clit and her breasts rose and fell steadily.

"Oh God," she gasped, "Ohhhh, don't stop."

Her head was writhing on the pillow until with one final yell he brought her to her second orgasm. She lay back on the pillow and Peter joined her. They lay together in each other's arms for a while alternating with him stroking her hair and kissing her tits and upper body passionately and her stroking the hairs on his chest and massaging his now flaccid cock. With a bit of persuasion, it soon became hard again and he mounted her and nestled the tip against her waiting cunt lips. Gently he inserted it until his shaft was fully within and then started thrusting. She wrapped her legs around his back and he held her tightly against him, her breasts banging against his chest in unison with his actions. He could feel her juices reacting as his cock forced its way in and out.

"Oh God," she gasped. "This is heaven. Don't stop for heaven's sake! Oh, fucking hell!"

"Language vicar!" said Peter banging away. "If your parishioners heard you swearing like that they'd be disgusted."

"If my parishioners could see me doing this, they'd probably be disgusted," said Maxine breathlessly jerking her body in unison. "Oh God, I think this is it...Oh...OH!" With that she climaxed as Peter shot forth another stream of semen deep inside her.

The excesses of his endeavours trickled back out onto the pink sheets and made a small damp patch. Neither of them seemed to notice as they were too busy kissing and cuddling each other, still locked together with Peter's cock still wedged within her chasm. Eventually they broke free.

"I could do with a drink after all that," said Maxine, sitting up. "I've got a bottle of white wine in the fridge. Would you like a glass?"

"I could think of nothing better," said Peter fingering her wet pussy. "A glass of wine and a beautiful woman. What more could a man want?"

Maxine brushed his advances aside and slid off the bed. She picked up her underclothes from the floor and placed them on a stool in front of the dressing table. Peter slid off after her. He picked up the black slip.

"Here, put this on," he said handing it to her. "You looked great in it before."

Maxine complied and pulled it over her head. She put her arms through the thin ribbon straps and let it ripple over her body accentuating her curves. He kissed her gently on the lips and felt his cock twitch as it came into contact with the soft silky material once more. She walked barefoot from the room and he lay back on the bed with one hand behind his head and the other slowly stroking his receding cock.

Maxine went downstairs into the kitchen. She soon found the wine and was busy hunting in the cupboard for some glasses when the doorbell rang. The vicarage had two outer doors, one which led directly to her study, which was also accessible from the house. This was only used by people who had pre-booked appointments for church services or by occasional people seeking help and guidance. The other was the house door which was used for personal visits. It made her jump for it was someone at the house door. She peered through the spy hole and recognised the person standing the other side as Trish Thorndike who had been serving the teas and coffees in the parish hall a few hours earlier. She opened the door slightly, trying to hide her near nakedness as much as possible.

"Oh, hello Trish, what can I do for you?" she said.

"I'm sorry to bother you," said Trish, "But Abigail thinks she's left her mobile phone in the parish hall kitchen earlier. I've been round to Fred's to see if I can borrow the keys, but he's out. I wonder if you could let me borrow yours. You know what teenagers are like. They feel undressed without their mobiles."

That last phrase was rather appropriate in the circumstances as Trish then noticed Maxine's state of attire.

"Sorry," she said, "I didn't realise you"

"...Undressed," said Maxine. "It's not a problem; I was on my way for a shower when you rang. Come in for a moment and I'll get them for you."

She opened the door wider and Trish walked through into the hallway. She watched as Maxine disappeared into the lounge reappearing a few moments later with her bunch of keys. She selected the appropriate one and handed it to Trish.

"I'll leave the door ajar", she said. "Just drop them back when you've finished please."

Trish nodded and walked out and across to the hall. Meanwhile upstairs, Peter was wondering where Maxine had got to. He hadn't heard the doorbell and decided to go and look for her and wandered out of the bedroom onto the landing.

"Max, is everything alright?" He called downstairs.

Maxine didn't hear him; she was still searching for a couple of glasses so he started walking along the landing and down the stairs. He had just reached the bottom when Trish returned. She knocked briefly on the front door and pushed it open coming face to face with Peter in his birthday suit.

"Oh, God!" she exclaimed and dropped the bunch of keys on the carpet.

The sound of the keys hitting the floor brought Maxine back into the hallway. She had now found some glasses. She stopped dead when she saw Trish and Peter.

Poor Peter, he didn't know what to do. It was no good trying to hide his meat and two veg, and besides he already had a partial hard on from his actions on the bed while Maxine was away. Trish stood there gaping like a fish in a goldfish bowl, not knowing what to say or do, so it was up to Maxine to take control of the situation. She put the bottle of wine and the glasses on a nearby table and stooped to pick up the bunch of keys, taking care that Trish didn't notice that she wasn't wearing her bra or knickers.

"Sorry about this," she said. "I asked Peter round after the service to discuss the music for the next few weeks and we got a little carried away."

"It's fine," said Trish. She couldn't take her eyes of Peter's appendage and didn't notice that the slip was the only item of clothing her vicar was wearing. "I'd better be going. Abigail will be wondering where I am."

Peter in turn couldn't take his eyes off Trish. She was a divorcee who was in her early forties, short and with short curly blond hair. She was dressed in a thin blue dress and a black jacket. As she walked out of the door, a shaft of sunlight illuminated her lower dress showing the outline of another lacy slip hem against her legs. This made Peter even harder.

They said their goodbyes and Maxine closed the door behind her. They went into the study and watched as she got into her car and drove off.

"I hope she's alright," said Maxine. "It must have been a hell of a shock seeing us both like this, especially you. I hope she won't tell anyone. I'd better call round tomorrow and apologise properly."

"I don't think she will," said Peter. "I've known her long before Abigail joined the choir and she's a decent sort. She doesn't spread gossip around. Anyway, never mind her; I've worked up a thirst."

"Oh, the wine. I'd forgotten," said Maxine. "I'll get the glasses." She walked towards the table and picked up the bottle and glasses and headed towards the study.

"No," said Peter, slapping her on the bottom, "Let's drink it upstairs."

Maxine squealed and ran up the stairs ahead of him into the bedroom and sat on the bed. She handed him the bottle which was one with a cheap twist top instead of a cork and Peter soon had it open. He poured them both a glass and they sat on the bed sipping it. They chatted together for a while until their glasses were empty, giving each other the occasional kiss.

Peter's cock was now limp once more and Maxine decided that it needed revitalising. She knelt over him and started kissing and massaging it once more. It soon became erect and she climbed over him and pushed him back on the bed. She positioned her pussy directly over his erect penis and lowered herself down on to it. She started humping up and down, her hair was flailing all over the place, the little cross round her neck was vibrating madly and her unfettered tits were bouncing up and down under her slip . The little yelps were back on each downward thrust as her cervix hit the tip of his cock and her gasps became more intense until with one big yell, she let forth yet another massive orgasm, the excess juices saturating front of the material.

Exhausted, she climbed off and collapsed into Peter's arms. His cock was now red and aching from the intense action it had received and they lay there for some time, him caressing her hair and kissing her gently, and her stroking the hairs on his manly chest. The sound of the church clock striking four o'clock brought them to their senses.

"Gosh," said Maxine, looking at her watch. "Is that the time?"

"Yes," said Peter checking his. "We've been at it on and off for the last three and a half hours. We've missed lunch you know."

"Well," said Maxine, "I did promise you a special starter! Go and have a shower and freshen up," she said. "I'll go and prepare something." She gave him a large bath towel.

Peter went and showered. When he had dried himself and got dressed, he came down into the lounge. Maxine had prepared a salad. She was still wearing the black slip.

"I've done a salad, I hope that's alright," she said. "I'm going to have a quick shower now. There's a quiche in the oven and some new potatoes in a pan on the hob. Can you switch them off when the clock goes off please? There's about ten minutes left."

Peter nodded and she disappeared upstairs. He switched off the oven when the clock sounded and sat waiting for her to return. When she did, she had on a plain red skirt and a white t-shirt, through which he could see the outline of her plain white bra. She obviously saved the exotic items for special occasions, he mused.

They sat and ate their meal, discussing their plans for the next day. Maxine thought it would be a good idea if they kept their relationship as secret as possible for the time being. She now had a visit arranged to visit Agnes Carter to plan the funeral for her brother Sid, which she asked Peter to attend to discuss the music, and she also planned to call on Trish Thorndike to apologise for the embarrassment she may have caused during her visit and to set the record straight. After all, she was the incumbent now for St Leonards' parish and as such was public property for her parishioners.

The meal over, Peter helped her with the washing up, and then made his excuses to leave. His cock was still sore from the earlier exertions and he was feeling a little tired himself. In any case, he had to collect his two grown up children from the station the following afternoon as they were coming to stay for the summer holidays so he knew that any liaisons between Maxine and him would be few and far between.

When he came to leave, he put his arms around Maxine's waist and kissed her tenderly on the lips.

"Thanks Max, it's been great," he said running his fingers through her hair. She kissed him back again.

"I've enjoyed it too," she said, "But like I said, we mustn't make a habit of it. I know we're both eligible with me being unmarried and you being a widower but things like this can get noticed higher up. I don't want the bishop ringing me up or moving me on. I like it here, and not just because of you!"

She opened the door and Peter stepped outside. He looked around furtively in case anyone was watching, but could see nobody. He waved and turned and strode purposely down the street to his house.

Back at the vicarage, Maxine closed the door and walked into her study. A smile played across her lips.

"Yes," she said to herself, "I like it here. I really do like it here!"

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