Unpriestly Behaviour Ch. 04

Thank goodness for a large garden, double glazing and no afternoon Mass!

I moved up her body, letting my weight pin her to the bed, and I enjoyed the sense of my hard cock dragging up between her thighs and reaching her wet aching pussy. I lifted up allowing my shaft to rest between us, then lay on her, my hot cock nestling in the valley of her sex, torturing her clit with sharp darts of pleasure. I kissed her full on the mouth, and she made a little 'Mmmmmm' noise as she tasted herself on me. I pushed up on my elbows and gazed at her.

She stirred herself, and with her hands she grasped her breasts; cupping them; offering them to me. I kissed first one, then the other hard nipple, then, my elbows still holding me up, took each nipple in a hard grip. Abby was panting; a deep flush spreading up and over her chest. We wriggled our lower bodies against each other; feeling my cock slide between us. It was a sexy moment, but not enough; a mid point, not a destination.

Abby seemed to sense how I felt, and broke the rhythm of our writhing; moved her hips just so, and I slipped inside her. Where has a teen innocent learned that trick?! Feeling her hot tight embrace I pushed forward, spearing her, deeply embedded in her. There was the faintest hint of resistance, no more -- I heard her say quietly, almost to herself, "Yes! Horse riding. So good. So good."

I whispered: "Now we wait". We lay still, interlocked, and trembling. Pleasure crackled like lightning across and between us; Abby quietly saying the whole time, "So good. So good." It felt like an eternity, unmoving, like statues, until I began slowly to pull back, signalling that we could move.

And move we did. We wrestled like otters sporting together in a rippled sea; her pussy gripping me and sending waves of pleasure through our conjoined bodies. And by the way, I'm not just being poetic: I did once see a pair of otters mating, and ... well it was like that, but without the smell of dead fish.

It was too much -- any more of this and I would come again already, and be ruined for the rest of the day. I stilled myself just as a new orgasmic paroxysm wracked her body. Then I pulled out, slowly, and sat back; allowing my hand to drift down her body until my fingers engaged with her hot sex, two fingers penetrating her and my thumb pleasuring her most erogenous spot.

I played gently with as she rode down from her peaks of pleasure. All at once she stretched languidly and rolled onto her stomach. I caressed the small of her back and moved lower to stroke her pert little buttocks. Lewdly she spread her legs wide, allowiing me to reach between them and trace the sensitive skin of her perineum and around her pussy.

I put a hand on each of her hips and lifted, signalling my wishes. She pulled her knees up beneath her, raising herself onto all fours. She looked coquettishly over her shoulder as I knelt up and positioned myself ready to penetrate her once more. The tip of my hard phallus grazeed her outer lips, but she held me back: "Not yet! Wait!". I paused, fingertips slowly caressing the V from her hips to the very edge of her pussy. Still she pleaded, "Wait". But in her eyes I could see the desire rising; her urgent need for me to be inside her.

I leaned forwards, my fingers tracing under her; across her flat muscled stomach and navel and on, until I was cupping her boobs, feeling their soft weight and warmth and the nubs of her hard and sensitive nipples. As I did this my cock head pressed against her. Suddenly she pushed back against me, impelling her hot pussy onto and over the end of my dick. Then we were both moving: I thrusting forwards as she pushed further back, impaling herself on me. We were momentarily spasmodic and uncoordinated, until I realised I could let this young teen nympho drive our passion. My hands moved back to once again rest lightly on her hips, and I realised I could see her framed in the mirror at the head of the bed: her face, her hair tumbling down over her shoulders, half hiding her breasts swinging beneath her as we fucked.

We rocked backwards and forwards, she pleasuring me, and pleasuring herself on me. In the mirror her eyes caught mine; she knew I was entranced, watching myself taking her, watching her being taken. I moved my hand back to her pussy; two, then three fingers; stroking and rubbing her. She lowered her upper body onto her elbows, and in the mirror I could see why; I could watch how her nipples dragged across the crisp cotton sheet with the rhythm of our intercourse.

Now everything was sensation: my dick ramming into her hot pussy, the sweet smell of her sex; the sight of her tits swinging wildly; the sound of her panting and ragged breath - and at the centre the growing heat of an impending orgasm.

It arrived quickly, and she came hard. Her pussy clamped down on me and I stopped moving, allowing her to plateau in the throes of her pleasure. Everything was still, even her breathing appeared to have stopped. I pulled out of her.

"Where do you want me to cum?" I ask. For answer she turned onto her back and slid down the bed so I was astride her stomach. She took me in her hand.

My skin was hypersensitive to her grip. Her hand moved back and forth over my cock, which felt hard as steel. Her voice was a quiet breath: "Come for me. Give me your cum!"

The "little death" overcame me and I fell forward, spurting hot cum; a pale ribbon over her face; a second across her chest, then a third, dropping neatly over her left nipple. I was breathing deep and fast and I couldn't hold myself up any longer.

I collapsed on top of her, then rolled sideways and looked at my conquest. She scooped cum from her face, dripping it into her hungry mouth; playing with it, and swallowing. She took a little from her boobs, and playfully planted it on my chest; then lazily we rubbed it into each other's skin.

We are both replete and I lay back, spent. Abby in turn lay across me, face down, her breasts sandwiched between us. I cradled her head, feeling her hair across my chest and arm. "You!" I said, "Thank you." And we slept.

The phone woke me: an Internet scammer telling me my computer had a "Wirus". Ignoring them I threw on my clothes and woke Abby. "You need to get back. I have an evening Mass" She rose sleepily, dressed and followed me downstairs. "Merci beaucoup, Father James," was all she said as she got on her bike and rode away.

It had been a great afternoon. But I needed my phone - and I needed to know about the world's worst painting. I'd ring the Manor - but as I turned back into the presbytery my eye fell on the painting, or rather, the ornate frame, where the brown paper wrapping was coming adrift. What was going on? I began to unwrap it.