The Priest's Virgin Concubine

"Something wrong with that?"

"No! Of course not!" Oh, God, this was not the conversation she had thought they would be having right now. "I mean...I hoped...I hoped that you would know what to do. Because it's my first time. And I thought that, you know, one of us should know what they were doing." She looked up at him, still shocked. Every boy she had ever gone out with had been a randy, eager horn-dog. Even if she had been careful to draw a firm line with them, they would have been more than willing to step across it if she had ever given them a sign that she was willing. A virgin? Father Justin? And he was...what? Twenty-five? Twenty-six? "That is just so...sad," she said.

"I knew when I was a kid that I wanted to be a priest. And that priests were celibate."

"Yeah, but." She laid her head on his chest, comforted by the beating of his heart. Below, his phallus pulsed against her stomach in the same sensual rhythm, making her wet. "You could have. Once or twice. Just to see what it was like. Right?"

"I could have. I didn't."

She raised her head and searched his face. Somehow, he seemed like the loveliest man in the whole world. There was a tiny dimple in the corner of his mouth, right where it was tucked up in the merest suggestion of a smile. She leaned up and kissed it. "Then I guess we're going to have to teach each other. Though my sister has been happy to tell me everything she and her boyfriend do. Though sometimes I don't really want to know." She turned, then got down on all fours on the floor. The thick blankets were warm against her cheek as she lifted her rear high into the air and spread her thighs wide.

"Um...Brittany?"

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

"It's the way it happened. In my dream." She moved slightly, rubbing her sensitive nipples on the blanket. The prickle in her areola made her belly quiver. "I'm ready, Father Justin. Please. Take me!"

"Good God protect and defend us," the priest muttered. "And all the goddesses above and below as well," he added hastily, as if Brigid and Freyja were listening and might be ready to do a little extrajudicial smiting if he wasn't respectful enough. Brittany heard a whisper as his boxers hit the ground, and then felt the floor of the tent settle slightly as Justin knelt behind her. A hand rested on her back. She took a sharp breath as it stroked her, from the small of her back to the nape of her neck and back again. "I am not," he said firmly, "going to have my very first time like this. Like a couple of dogs humping away at each other in a junkyard."

Warm lips pressed into the base of her spine. Brittany moaned as Justin's tongue flickered out and tasted her. "On your back," he whispered.

She obeyed immediately, without thinking. She flipped over, her head coming to rest on a fat, plump pillow. Her eyes went round as she took in the long, thick length of Justin's manhood for the first time. It was bigger than she would ever have thought in real life, even considering the naughty movies she had sometimes watched with Haley or some of their other friends. It was a lot easier to watch some other girl get boned with a great big cock than to deal with it yourself. Not that Justin was some sort of freak. But still. There was a world of difference between watching something on the screen of her best friend's laptop with a bunch of other girls giggling around you, and having it only a few feet away, big as life and twice as hard.

"Um." Justin looked from her face to her pussy, and then down at his waving cock. Pre-cum, which she had seen once or twice when she had given her frustrated boyfriends a quick hand-job, gleamed wetly in the yellow candlelight. If it hadn't been for the rule, she would have tried to see how he tasted. "Are there any rules for you?"

Brittany thought she knew what he was talking about, and smiled. "No, Father Justin." She decided to tease him. Just a little bit. "I can cum as many times as I like. But I would like it a lot," she hinted. "If you used your tongue on me. Down there." Just to make things clear, she pointed at her cleft.

The young man smiled nervously. And what was he, after all? Priest? Lover? Confidant? Confessor? Or merely a man who would guide her over the border into womanhood, as she would guide him at the same time? "I'm not going to be very good."

"I don't think anyone ever is, the first time they try. But the important thing is that you actually do try."

He nodded. "One promise?"

"Anything."

"Tell me if I'm doing anything wrong."

And then he lowered his head, kissing the inside of her thighs.

Maybe he was too nervous, too unsure, to dive right into her pussy. Maybe he thought he would be too clumsy, too inept to please her. God knew that people didn't make things easy for men who were sexually inexperienced. But the feel of his lips on her skin made the wait worth it. So warm. So sweet. So tender. He worked his way up, always closer to where she wanted him, where she needed him, but always too far away.

Brittany closed her eyes, trying to stay calm. This was the hardest part. Her mother had warned her. Megan Murray had been one of the women who chose the virgin's path. Nearly thirty years ago she had been chosen for the rite of the spring equinox by Father Snodgrass, who had been much younger then. And the one lesson she had learned and passed down to her daughter was that you could not hurry pleasure.

So she relaxed, and concentrated, paying no mind to anything in the wide green world but the heavenly feeling of Justin's lips and mouth and tongue as he wandered from one leg to the next, slowly drawing nearer his goal. Unbidden, her hands came up to cup her breasts, the tips of her fingers slowly stroking the undercurves of her mounds. The sensation made her spread her legs wider. One part of her wanted to pull Justin up, to have him sink into her, to take her unwanted virginity away. Another, wiser portion realized that what Justin was doing was just as important for him as it was for her. And that if she interrupted him he might think that he wasn't pleasing her.

Jesus Christ in heaven. And Freyja and Rhiannon and Áine, wherever they might be. And any other fertility god or goddess who might be listening. Maybe I'm giving him extra credit because he's never been with a woman. But this is so fucking good! Her legs were shaking, her nipples hard as pebbles as her fingers teased them with long, slow pinches that made her pussy surge with hot, liquid wetness. Justin lifted his eyes to her. When they met, their gazes locked, and something passed between them. And the priest moved his head that last, crucial inch, licking her from the base of her labia at the top of her cleft in a long, sweeping stroke that made her toes curl and her head tilt back in rapture.

"Oh, fuck!" The words seemed torn from her mouth. She knew she should be ashamed for cursing in front of her priest. But she could not find it in herself to care. The feelings at her core were just so fucking good. Tingles rushed up and down her body, making the muscles inside her sheath clench and breasts feel hot and heavy and swollen.

But somehow, it still wasn't enough. At least, not when it could be so much better. Justin was lapping at her lips with an enthusiasm which was completely gratifying, even if his skill wasn't all that could be desired. But what would happen if he was actually doing it right?

So Brittany reached down, tangling her fingers in Justin's wavy brown hair. With a tug she moved him higher, and also shifted her hips on the blanket.

"There," she whispered, pointing to the spot at the top of her labia. She knew what it was, and where it was, even if Justin didn't. But she could help him. If he decided to stay in Fertile Valley, he would be initiating many more women into the joys of sex. And every one of those women deserved to have their first experience to be fantastic. And that wasn't going to happen if Justin didn't know where a woman's clit was. "Lick me there."

"Hmmm." The priest reached down, and ran a finger between her lips. Brittany's hips bucked as they parted under his touch. "That seems...important." In an action that made her eyes widen, he set the tip of his finger between his lips and licked it clean. "You taste...incredible."

Oh my God. My priest is a secret perv.

"If you like what's down there," Brittany purred, playing the game. "You'll love what's up here." She reached down and spread her lips wide, making sure her clit was fully exposed. "She's nice and tasty. Why don't you kiss her hello?"

"Hello," Justin whispered. With closed lips, he planted a kiss on her bud. Brittany's mouth hung open as a tingle of pure pleasure raced through her body. "I'm Justin. And I hope we're going to be friends."

"More. Please."

A tiny light of triumph lit the young man's eyes, and he went to work on her with a will. Closed-mouth kisses transitioned into deep, soft caresses. And when her pleas turned frantic, Justin began to lavish long, slow sweeps of his tongue that dragged on her pearl until she was writhing in their nest of blankets and pillows, her voice spiraling upward into half-frantic shrieks. All of her being seemed to be focused on the pleasure the shy young priest was giving her, and her hands massaged her breasts, her hips bucking in a rhythm directed by an unknown conductor, until with a hoarse scream, she exploded. Her entire body shattered in a paroxysm of pleasure like dynamite thrown into a pond, a fireball bursting up and through her body until she could not even tell where her limbs ended and Justin's mouth and tongue began.

"Stop." It was less a command then a hoarse, begging whimper. She couldn't take any more. "Please. God, baby, it's too much." With the last strength in her arms, she dragged Justin away from her clit and onto her belly. His eyes, she noted with a ghost of amusement, were very, very pleased with themselves.

But who could blame him? Over the five years since she had discovered what made her happy, she had brought herself to orgasm with her fingers, a dildo, a vibrator her mother had bought for her, pillows, a stuffed koala, her best friend's tongue (but only twice) and a detachable shower head. Nothing had come close to the climax that Father Justin had just given her.

And it was his first time with a woman!

He was looking at her, right now, his gaze so open and anxious it made her want to take him home and tuck him into bed. "It was good?"

"It was." Entirely of their own volition, her lips curled in a lazy smile. "It was very, very good."

"Good." A slight tension lifted out of Justin's shoulders. "I wasn't sure."

"Me screaming your name wasn't hint enough?"

"Oh, God. Everyone probably heard, didn't they?"

"Don't worry." Despite the fact that her arms felt like loaves of wet bread, she reached down and patted his cheek. "That's a good thing. You know all of them are going to be waiting to make sure we've done the dirty deed."

"But we haven't."

"No. We haven't. Not yet."

He kissed her stomach. "So. Tell me about...all this."

"All this?"

"You know. Fertile Valley. And how the Diocese of Peoria is apparently playing host to a bunch of bedamned Irish and German pagans. Who sacrifice the virginity of a teenage girl once every three or four months to keep the entire area happy and prosperous. With the parish priest playing the role of divine impregnator."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "You wish. I'm on the pill. And I don't know much. Just some of the stuff Mom has told me."

"I'm listening."

"Then listen from up here with me. Not down there." With a tug, Brittany pulled him up to her level. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Our people, Mom and Dad's people, were from the west of Ireland. Places where the old ways hung around the longest," she said quietly. "Places like Cork and Galway and Kerry. The wild lands, where some people still worshipped the old Gaelic Gods. Brigid and Áine and Hearne and Nuada Silverhand.

"They settled here. We're one of the oldest towns in Illinois. Older than Chicago or Springfield or Quincy. Almost as old as St. Louis."

"Mmm." Justin stroked her hip, making her curl into him happily. "My hometown has the oldest published newspaper in Illinois."

She poked him. "Oh. So now it's a contest?"

He tickled her nipple, which made her gasp. "The story."

"It's really not much of a story. The Irish who settled here honored the old ways. And so did the German and Norwegian Catholics who followed. And what was the harm? A ritual that they had followed in the old country transplanted to the new? A choir of virgin girls who would sacrifice their chastity in service to the entire community?

"No one thought about it. No one cared. It was just a silly tradition, like the drunks who get wasted up in Chicago every year on St. Patrick's Day.

"Until we woke up one day and realized that it was actually working. That while our neighbors were all falling apart, small towns drying up and blowing away like dust in the wind, we were still doing all right. Wal-Mart didn't come in to set up a store and drive all the other businesses in town bankrupt. We didn't get a McDonald's or a Home Depot. And no one seems to want one."

"And now it's me," he murmured into her hair.

"And now it's you," she agreed. She stroked his chest. "Another girl at Beltane. Haley, maybe. She likes you. A lot. And then another one at Midwinter. And another in the spring. Over and over again." A phrase of her mother's surfaced. "Every year is a ripple in the long slow stream of time."

"I really should be horrified, disgusted, and report this entire parish to the ecumenical council," Justin said. "But to be honest," he added, rolling over until he was braced on his elbows above her, and his smiling face was mere inches from hers. "That sounds like an awful amount of work. And I think there's better ways we can spend our time."

"I like a man who has his priorities right," she smiled. Oh, God. It was finally going to happen. The unbearable weight of her virginity was finally going to be taken away. As the tip of Justin's cock knocked at her entrance, she drew him down for a kiss.

And opened.

*****

It should, Justin thought to himself, be an event which was celebrated by marching bands. Perhaps a twenty-one-gun salute. Or maybe a fireworks show and a flyover by the Blue Angels.

Instead, what he had was a somewhat stuffy tent, a bed of blankets and pillows, enough candles that the entire affair could be considered a fire hazard...

And Brittany Murray. His heaven, his hell. His temptation, his heart's desire and his fall from grace. Propped above her, her body was a feast and a delight for his sex-starved senses. As he kissed her, his inexperienced mouth doing its honest best to return to her the pleasure she was giving him with every breath, he wondered how he had ever lived without her. Her bright, cheery humor. Her green, laughing eyes. The warm curve of her mouth, that even now was smiling up at him. Her body, so richly curved that it was all he could do to not drop his head and kiss every sexy inch of her until she was a quivering heap in his arms.

"Justin." Her eyes sparkled up at him as they kissed.

"Hmmm?"

"Are you going to fuck me soon? Because that's what we came down here for." With an athletic twist of her hips, she managed to draw the lips of her pussy up the throbbing length of his phallus, which had been hard for so long that it almost now seemed to be a part of his natural state.

"Soon," he whispered. He had not got nearly enough of the incredibly gorgeous teen. He lowered his head and nuzzled the twin glories of Brittany's breasts. So round, so firm, capped with pink nipples that stood up high, just begging to be suckled. He took one into his mouth, and then the other, pulling on them as she moaned and twisted. Somehow, they stiffened even further under his lips, and he flicked at the tips with the end of his tongue, which made his lover squeak in a decidedly undignified manner.

"Justin! Please! I need it!" One leg rose, Brittany's sleek young thigh running over his hip, over and over again. With a tug at his hair, she pulled him away from her breasts and back to her face, kissing him deeply. Her mouth panted hot breath into his ear, and her teeth nipped at his earlobe. Suddenly, her arms and legs were wrapped around him, trapping him in a web of desire.

"Oh, Jesus." He felt it. Almost by accident, the tip of his cock was at her entrance. He could feel Brittany's wet, fertile heat. Every breath, every whisper of movement, brought an agonizing spasm of pleasure as her slickness caressed his sensitive glans.

His body reacted, slowly pushing his cock deeper into Brittany's channel. Then, he stopped, a horrible thought crashing down on him.

Brittany must have read something in his expression. "What? What's wrong?"

"Your..." He managed to pluck the right word out of his memory. "Your hymen. I'll break it. I don't want to hurt you."

She reached up and patted his cheek. "You really are the sweetest man alive," she said. "But don't worry about that. It broke years ago." Her hips wiggled, and they both gasped as his shaft sank another fraction of an inch deeper into her passage. "Just...go slow, okay. Because you're kind of big."

"But..."

Brittany smacked his rear, hard enough to sting. "That is the only butt I care about right now. You're not hurting me, Justin. At all. In fact, you feel fucking incredible. But it's going to be pretty damn hard for me to lose my virginity if you're scared of actually screwing me."

One look at her face made him throw away what he had been about to say. And who was he, to treat her like a fragile flower that had to be kept under glass? He braced himself on one arm, the other hand cupping the warm, firm swell of her breast, and slowly eased into her. The sensation was so far beyond anything he had ever felt that it was like going from a gray, monochrome world to blazing technicolor. The walls of Brittany's passage slowly parted, and he found his cock bathed in the most incredibly hot, wet, pleasurable sensation of his life. When he finally stopped, the base of his shaft was flush with Brittany's nether-lips, and the young woman's face was soft and hazy with pleasure, her eyes open wide.

"So...full," she whispered. She closed her eyes, her mouth hanging slack. Her hips made tiny rocking motions, and Justin found himself closing his own eyes and fighting the surge of need in his cock. It would be so easy. So easy to pull out and then ram into Brittany, to pound away ay her tender sex until he exploded inside her. After all, that's why they were doing this, right?

Wrong.

Brittany's eyes blinked open, and he felt the grip of her channel on his cock ease slightly. "That's better." She ran her fingers over his chest. Her fingers toyed with his chest-hair. "I've never had something that big in my pussy before, Father Justin." Her eyes twinkled up at him merrily. "I had to get used to you."

"Do I even want to know what you have had up there?"

"Nothing like this," she replied. Her sheath tightened around him, then loosened again, and she laughed at his expression. "Just my fingers. And a dildo. But this is so much better. Hot. Hard. Alive." She kissed him, her lips nibbling at him, and underneath him, she began to push upwards with her groin. Her mound, dusted with red-gold curls the exact shade as those on her head, ground against his stomach. "Can you fuck me, Father? Long and deep and slow? I guess I'm not really a virgin. Not anymore. But the rite isn't complete. The land still needs the blessing of your seed."