The Planted Seed Pt. 03

I thought a lot about Father Jack. I wondered what prompted his sudden interest in me and I asked myself why was I so receptive. His popularity among parishioners increased his attractiveness. I wondered what he would be like on a date and in bed. Given his vocation I imagined he would behave like a teenager trapped in a middle aged man's body. I didn't care if he'd be clumsy because I, the experienced, married woman would tutor him.

Even though Donny had shared his fantasy with me and we had incorporated it into our lovemaking I wanted to test the waters before sharing with him my feelings about Father. I watched Father as he interacted with other women in our parish. He was very friendly. He hugged a lot of women. He complimented their dress, hairstyle, held their hands as he talked to them, made lots of eye contact so why did I think his feelings for me were different. The truth is I didn't; I just hoped they were. Of all the men out there why was I drawn to him? I had no answer. All I knew is I wanted him and I was tired of pining for him from where I sat in the pew each week.

Talking to him for just a few minutes at the end of the Mass made my week. I'd tell Donny I needed to talk to Father about something and he'd wander off waiting for me or stand a respectful distance away from us as Father and I chatted. I'd tell him how much I liked the homily or compliment him on his voice. He would downplay his talents, but it was obvious he liked hearing his praises. He'd tell me how good my dress looked on me, but the biggest clue he was paying attention to me was whenever he noticed I had done something with my hair. One time, looking me straight in the eye, my clueless husband five feet away, he said after I did something to my hair he liked it, but preferred the style I had before. The next week I showed up at Mass with my hair done the way he liked it. He noticed and commented to me, "Much better Susan."

I detected in his voice the same longing I felt in my soul. Donny was the beneficiary of our weekly attendance at Mass. We'd go home and no sooner had we gotten inside than I'd be on my back with his face between my thighs. He later told me he thought since it was Sunday and he'd been good all week I was just rewarding him.

Fate happily intervened and provided me an opportunity to see Father socially when Donny asked me if I wouldn't mind him taking an evening job at the local community college teaching several evenings a week. Besides the added money it would give him experience and possibly open up a new opportunity which paid better than his current job.

It was only a few nights a week and I knew he really wanted to do it so I said yes. I also told him yes to reward him for asking me, but I also reminded him of his responsibilities asking aloud, "Who is going to make my dinner the nights you aren't here?" Instead of being annoyed he enthusiastically assured me he would have dinner waiting for me.

I busied myself the nights Donny worked, but there were times I wanted to go out during the week. A coworker gave me tickets to an event. I looked at the date and my first thought was, "Donny is working that night, but I wonder if Father is free."

I worried Father would say no. It was one thing for he and I to make eyes at each other during and after Mass, but another for a priest to socialize in public with a woman, especially a married woman. I decided I needed to find out.

My hands shook when I dialed Father Jack's number, the rotary dial returning after each individual number dialed. The phone rang. On the third ring he picked up. He sounded genuinely happy hearing my voice. I told him I knew he was busy, but I had tickets to an event I thought might interest him. I explained Donny was busy. He said he would love to go with me. We made arrangements for him to pick me up. He asked if I wanted dinner before the event. I told him I did.

He then asked if Donny was okay with him accompanying me. Even though I hadn't said anything to Donny, I told Father Donny was okay with everything I did. He laughed and commented afterwards, "I'm sure he is." He then told me he would see me soon, thanked me for thinking of him, and said he was very excited. I told him I was too.

I wanted to stay on the phone with him for hours, but our phone call ended in less than ten minutes. I replayed in my mind our conversation again and again. He didn't seem nervous at all; if anything he sounded just the opposite.

I shared my decision with Donny the next time he was home for the evening. In my nightgown, brushing my hair before getting into bed I asked Donny if he remembered the tickets I had been given. He said he did and apologized for having to work. I told him I had someone to go with. He asked who. I told him Father Jack. He looked pleasantly surprised. Even though I very much viewed Father and I going out as a date I wanted to downplay it in front of Donny. I reminded him Father had talked about the artist so I decided I'd see if he wanted to go. I then relayed to him our plans for the evening. Father would pick me up. We'd go to dinner first, the show afterwards.

The gears in Donny's head were turning as he processed everything. He tried not to sound excited, but failed miserably. He shouldn't have been excited about Father and I going out, but he was. He shouldn't have been imagining Father and I having sex, but he did. His penis shouldn't have gotten hard to the point of bursting, but it did. His impure thoughts collided with his virtuous ones. He felt bad having the thoughts he had about Father; he was after all our priest. He also wondered if I would think him depraved for even imagining Father and I having sex. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't.

I too wanted to say something, but didn't. Telling Donny aroused me. I had a fire between my legs only his tongue could put out. Even though it was bedtime and we had an early day ahead of us I glanced at Donny's tented pajama bottoms and said, "I need your tongue, right here and right now."

He dropped to his knees. I laid at the edge of the bed, my feet planted on the floor and Donny's tongue worked its magic on me. We were both imagining the same thing and it involved Father. We both came. My juices flooding his face and his penis coating the inside of his pajama bottoms with cum.

As my date with Father approached I spent a lot of time thinking about how to handle Donny. I wasn't going out with Father because he wanted me to, but because I wanted too. I needed to wrest from Donny his fantasy and replace it with mine. Some might see it as splitting hairs, but I viewed our motivations as polar opposites. The strategy I decided on was a continuation of what had improved my marriage, discipline.

The night before Father and I went out Donny didn't have to work. He arrived home before me and was in the middle of preparing dinner. We chatted about our respective days. During dinner even though I sensed he very much wanted me to, I made no mention of my date the following night with Father. While he was doing the dishes I went to the bedroom, shucked my panties, and returned paddle in hand. I stood in the kitchen looking at his bottom feeling more aroused with each passing minute as I pictured myself spanking him. In my head I scripted out everything I was going to say.

"Done?" I asked, purposely sounding a bit irritated.

"Yes," he answered surprised at the change in tone of my voice. He wondered if I had discovered something he had done wrong, something he had been keeping secret from me.

He turned and saw me holding the paddle.

"Leave the apron on, Donny, but drop the pants and underwear."

They were soon down at his ankles.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked.

"No, this is to prevent you from doing something wrong."

His penis strained against the apron. He waddled towards the table he had just wiped down. He assumed the position. I rubbed the paddle across each buttock. I thought to myself he has a cute ass.

"Donny, tomorrow night I'm going to the show with Father. I know you're excited as am I, but I don't want you acting excited."

I swatted him twice, not real hard, but definitely not soft.

"I won't," he promised.

"Remember, he's our priest. He and I are friends. I worry your fantasy will get the best of you and embarrass Father and I."

Two more swats, harder than the last.

He answered, "I promise. I won't let it."

"Good," but to keep things really confusing and to show him who dictated the terms of his fantasy, I dropped this bombshell on him, "Now, the show ends after you get home from work. When Father drops me off I intend to invite him in. I don't want to see you when we come through the door. I also don't want to hear a peep out of you. Absolute silence."

His bottom burning I gave him four more, the hardest for the night.

"Do you understand? You're to stay in your room. I'll let you know when you can come out."

"My room?" he asked, sounding both confused and excited.

"Yes, your room. I think it's time we had separate bedrooms for those nights I go out. From now on you sleep in the guest room whenever I go out."

"Okay," he answered which earned him another swat.

"I mean, yes ma'am." he apologetically said.

I put the paddle down. With a voice he later assured me sounded as imperious as I hoped it did I told him, "On your knees."

I lifted my skirt up, grabbed the back of his head with one hand, and pressed his face against my vulva, telling him, "Now lick."

And lick he did, like a thirsty animal.

"That's it. Your tongue is so fucking good." I could feel my arousal running in thin streams down my inner thighs, "So wet," I thought.

I wasn't thinking about Father at that moment, but Donny and how good he made me feel. I was in my happy place. A fantastic dinner followed by me paddling him and now his tongue bringing me so much pleasure. My orgasm unleashed a flood of my juices, drenching his chin, shirt, and the top of his apron. Life was great. Little did I know, but my life would get even better.

Excited and nervous about my date with Father, I left work early. I made several stops before arriving home. Pedicure and manicure. Hair cut. New bra and matching panties to go with my new dress. I loved my dress, modeled after a cheongsam. Short sleeved, it had slits on both sides beginning at mid thigh and ending where the hem began, mid calf. The blue color reminded me of the sea and the flower patterns reminded me of two gardens, the one Donny tended to in the front yard and the one between my legs. The dress was both conservative as it covered my front and back, but sexy as the slits on either side revealed a lot of my legs which I was proud of and the way it clung to all my curves I hoped would pique Father's interest to investigate what lay inside the dress.

Donny had gone straight from work to his second job. I arrived at the house, took a bath, shaved my legs and underarms, and even trimmed my bush. As I stood in front of the mirror later applying make up I thought on my next date I wanted Donny's help to get me ready.

Father showed up on time. Wearing slacks, a dress shirt, and dark blue sport coat I thought he looked very handsome. His teeth looked even whiter against his face's deep tan. An avid outdoorsman, unlike my Donny. I wondered if he used his love of the outdoors to channel energies he'd rather expend indoors between the sheets.

In his hand he had a bouquet of my favorite flowers, tulips.

Taking the bouquet from him, I told him, "Father, you didn't need to, but thank you. They are beautiful. How did you know they were my favorite?"

He said, "It's a long story, but your husband told me."

Interesting I thought as I walked into the kitchen to find a vase to put the tulips in. Father watched as I located a vase, filled it with water, unwrapped the bouquet, and placed them in the vase.

Another reason why I wanted Donny to help me wasn't just for the eroticism, but for the practicality.

Father cleared his throat, "Susan, the back of your dress."

I hadn't remembered to zip up the back of my dress. Normally it was something Donny did. In my excitement I had completely forgotten about it still being half zipped up.

I looked at him, but instead of feeling embarrassed, I calmly said as I turned my back to him, "Father, could you?"

He wasn't but a few steps from me, but it seemed like it took him forever to walk to me. When his hands touched my bare skin I felt a wave of heat course through me from my face to my pussy. I moved my hair out of the way as his fingers slid the zipper up. I thought he's not only touched me, but he's seen the back of my bra, a bra I bought to look good for him. I felt his breath on the back of my neck.

"There", he said.

I turned immediately noticing I wasn't the only one with a flushed face.

I smiled, thanked him, and said, "For being such a gentleman, you deserve a kiss." I pursed my lips and gave him a quick peck on his.

He had I noticed immediately pursed his.

Looking him in the eye I asked him if he was ready.

He looked a bit off balance. I wondered if I had been too forward. He answered he was. We left the house. Walking to his car, he complimented me on my dress. I did a 360 a for him, telling him I had bought it just that day and for him.

He held the door open. I got in. He closed the door, then walked around the car, got in, closed the door, started the car, and backed out the driveway. As we headed down the street I thought, "My date has officially begun."

On the way to the restaurant I expressed to him how excited I was to be going to the show and thanked him for going with me. I told him I knew he had a busy schedule. He said he too was excited and had been looking forward to the evening ever since I asked him to accompany me.

I very much wanted the evening to feel like a date, but I quickly learned men of the cloth can rarely go anywhere in public without running into someone they know. I knew I had to behave exactly opposite of how I felt in front of people who knew him, but it was hard. I wanted him to hold my hand, to exchange kisses over dinner, to have his arm around me during the show, but it didn't happen.

In the restaurant we sat next to a couple who knew both of us. It wasn't a lie to tell them why we were together or that Donny knew, but I wondered what they really thought about a priest and his young, attractive, married, parishioner being out on the town.

The show was more of the same. I noticed him distancing himself from me which was frustrating. I did my best to make as much contact with him as possible, touching his knee when I talked to him or pressing my breast against his arm whenever I leaned close to tell him something, bringing my mouth as close to his ear. He didn't pull away, but his body tightened. I wondered if he was too paranoid to relax or I had completely misread him. I even thought maybe he's just a flirt, that his personal boundaries allowed him to go only so far. He enjoyed the chase, but that's where it ended.

At intermission we walked around and talked to people we both knew. I stood there, clutch purse in hand, a few feet away, watching him answer. Of course they bombarded us with questions. I decided to let him answer unless the question was directed at me. He was I thought very smooth and convincing, even referring to Donny and I as old friends of his. I knew the way I was dressed and made up I looked more like a date than a friend on a casual outing and given the up and down looks I got I don't think he fooled any of the wives or their husbands.

While they didn't say anything I couldn't help but wonder what they whispered to each other later. I also imagined Donny's reaction when I told him and I pictured telling him as he licked me, his penis ejaculating cum onto my leg or better yet I thought my foot. After I climaxed I would look down, grab him by the hair, have him look up at me, and ask, "Did you just cum on me?"

Of course I knew he had. I had felt it and loved it, but I wanted him to feel shamed because his shame made me feel powerful, in control, and wet. He would tell me had feeling embarrassed, but I wouldn't be done. I'd tell him to go get something to clean me up and as he started to rise I would stop him and put him to the ultimate test, "On second thought, I think you should lick it up."

I imagined the turmoil he'd feel, pulled in two directions. I also knew he'd comply, especially if I sounded bitchy enough. I'd encourage him as he licked his seed up telling him, "That's it. You're a good boy." I'd pat his head like I would the family dog.

Signs lit up announcing the end of the intermission. With drinks in hand we returned to our seats. Whether it was the scotch in his cup or he believing he had fooled them or a glance around told him we weren't in view of anyone we knew or he couldn't suppress the desire burning inside him, he relaxed.

He turned his head and with his mouth close to my ear said, "I just wanted to let you know again how glad I am you asked me to come with you. I hope we can do this again."

I turned, my lips so close to his, and said, "You're welcome. I'm thrilled you said yes and I very much want to do this again with you."

For added emphasis, I reached out and squeezed his hand. He didn't pull away, but took his other hand and put it on top of mine.

He then said, "Susan, you really do look stunning this evening."

It was dark enough to where he couldn't see my face go red, "Thank you. And Father you look really handsome."

We were whispering to each other, our mouths literally pressed against each other's ear, our breaths so warm, the smell of Scotch hitting my nostrils, the moment so intimate. I didn't know exactly what Donny wanted, but I knew this was what I wanted.

"Susan, I'm not too old, am I?"

I looked at him before answering, "Father, not at all. You're handsome and very distinguished looking. I've always found older men attractive. More mature and in control."

He pressed his mouth against my ear again, "I'm glad you like older men and for all the reasons you listed. Tell me, when you got the tickets who was your first choice to go with?"

Father knew how to bring out the submissive in me. My panties were more than a little damp and my nipples were so hard they hurt.

I whispered back to him, "I do very much like older men Father and you were my first choice."

Now it was his turn, "Not Donny?"

My lips were now on his ear, "Not Donny, but you. I was thrilled he had to work. I had been wanting to spend time with you one on one and this was the perfect opportunity."

He looked at me, a big smile on his face, evidence he liked what he heard. He rubbed the back of my hand. I squeezed his hand. I noticed now whenever I leaned into him he pushed back clearly enjoying the feel of my breast against his arm.

The show was great, but I couldn't wait to be alone with him. The feelings I had were identical to the ones I had when Donny and I dated. Plenty of times I had whispered to him I wanted to leave so we could be alone which was our euphemism for making out and now I felt that same ache, but with another man.

We stayed until the end. On the way out we ran into another couple he knew. He introduced me as his good friend and explained he was doing my husband a favor. The gentleman he was talking to, a man in his seventies, looked me up and down, and said aloud, "I'd do him a favor too." The sexual innuendo in his voice caused his wife to jokingly comment as she slapped him on the arm, "Oh stop. Forgive him. He's just a horny old goat."

I spoke up and said, "I forgive him," and winked tomlet them know I wasn't offended in the least. We chatted about the show. We all agreed it had been great. Father looked at his watch and said he needed to get me home as he had an early day. We said goodbye. He told them he'd see them on Saturday evening.