Ch06 "Dangerous Liaisons"
Part 1
Mary rose at 6 a.m. resisting the urge to stroke her hands along her belly; she drove herself into the shower. Switching on the radio to her favorite, unchallenging channel, she luxuriated in the cascade as Debussy's Claire-de-Lune permeated her body. Such simple cadence providing such pleasure, Mary could easily have dwelt for hours, but the prospects of the day drove her swiftly to her towel and a robust rub-down before dressing.
Christine was half an hour ahead, she wanted to catch Mary before breakfast and give her a little gift she had found in the market the day before. She did not have to worry too much about preparing breakfast this morning as only Father Vincent was at home. She settled herself in the window seat, her legs curled under her and waited for Mary's footfall.
"Good morning my dear." Mary lit up the room when she finally entered and announced, "I am going for a walk in the gardens this morning before breakfast, work up an appetite, watch the birds and pick some flowers....a couple of poached eggs will be perfectly fine." Mary smiled and turned to leave.
"Memento, senora," Christine smiled back, "I have little gift for you."
Christine twisted round in her seat to pick up a small package, as she turned, her nylon overall slid up her thigh, exposing the curve of her rump. Without a doubt it was just about the most perfect bottom a woman could wish for and Mary put her hand to her mouth and watched its' swollen bulge above those perfect thighs, a warm glow spread through her loins.
Christine's command of the English language improved each day, however, her occasional and endearing faux pas often brought a smile to Sr. Mary's face
"I saw this and wanted you to have it, Sister. I hope it makes you skipping happy in the garden." she beamed, handing Mary a beautifully gold-ribbon-wrapped, shiny scarlet packet.
Mary was not unused to receiving gifts, friendly and grateful parishioners would give her pots of honey or woolen scarves, flowers, books and all manner of religious bric-a-brac which she accepted in good grace and promptly offloaded to the Catholic charity shop. She often smiled at the prospect of some beaming little orphan sitting around in the shade, somewhere in Africa proudly wearing a woolly scarf, fanning its' face with a copy of 'People's Friend, October 1978'
"Why, thank you my dear, how thoughtful and kind of you," she responded to the gift.
"No problems, Sister, meu prazer, you are very good to me and I know there are some things a Nun just can't buy."
Curiosity aroused, Mary unwrapped her gift and the faint scent of perfume touched her senses as she unfolded the inner, pink tissue paper. At first it didn't really register what she was holding, then she felt her cheeks turn pink as she ran her fingers over a beautiful creamy-white, satin brassiere and knickers. They were beautifully trimmed in silk with dainty little lace embroidered rosebuds. She fondled the material between her fingers as she pondered a response.
"It is easy for me, Senora, I can go Marks and Spencer, buy sexy knickers, take them to counter, pay and nobody even cares. You do not have this freedom I think, and there is no reason why a Nun shouldn't have pretty things - nothing in the bible says that"
Christine looked her squarely in the eyes, the two women had shared sexual encounters and an unspoken discretion was skillfully employed by both.
"You are absolutely right, Christine." Mary replied," it is a lovely gift. In fact I shall wear them when I return from my walk, adios my dear, make sure Father Vincent is aroused!"
"Adios Senora - I shall arouse him in no flat minutes!"
Christine watched her elegant, robe-clad form glide along the corridor. Hidden beneath that habit was a superbly preserved body and the nuances of womanhood were betrayed at the hips and the bodice, making Mary even sexier. As the Nun disappeared, she turned her attention to Father Vincent. He should be up by now.
Vincent had lain awake for half an hour; nothing would reduce the heat in his thighs or the swelling of his manhood. The recent, unsolicited molestation by two pairs of women had both shocked and aroused him in equal measure and he didn't quite know what to do.
Eyes closed, he wrapped his ample fist around his warm shaft and began to move it up and down, just as Christine reached the door. She stooped to peek through the keyhole to hopefully catch a glimpse of him half-naked. What she did see, however, was a completely naked priest slowly touching his very impressive cock.
Almost unconsciously she licked her lips, crossed her fingers and gently tried the doorknob. Unlocked as always, it silently moved ajar and she quietly moved into the room, squatted by the doorframe and watched as the pace of his hand quickened.
"I can do that for you Father. I can stroke your lovely cock and make it hard and spurty"
Vincent almost jumped out of his skin and in reflex pulled a sheet across himself to hide his embarrassment. He groaned slightly as he watched Christine squatting against the wall, her tongue protruding slightly, breasts pressed impudently from her nylon overall and legs slowly spreading in open invitation.
"Wank your cock for me, Vincent" she invited, "show me how hard you can be."
Impossibly compromised, he meekly obeyed, his arousal heightened by Christine's wide-spread thighs. She stood slightly ungainly, exposing even more and approached the bed. Vincent lay back, closed his eyes and placed his arm across his face to blot out his shame as he felt the girl take position alongside him. Top to toe, she placed her feet near his head and nestled her head on his thigh, the bursting bulge inches from her mouth.
Reaching forward, she placed her hand around the stem and moved it up and down, her tongue snaked out and began to lick the length and around the base, gently pulling his testicles into her mouth, squeezing them with her tongue then sliding them out again. Eventually she pulled the head towards her lips and lapped the sticky recess before pulling him engorged into her mouth. Vincent's eyes opened and quickly it registered that he was staring between her legs and her very busy fingers were deftly squeezing and rubbing her clitoris. The distinct scent off her sex wafted into his nostrils and a surge of something primitive pulsed into his cock.
Christine mewed her approval and sucked with all her enthusiasm, she just adored man-juice and especially the moment before orgasm as the muscle bulged and spasmed, then the climax itself as it splashed on her face, bottom, her breasts or her quim lips.
Removing him from her mouth, seconds before eruption, she tightened her grip slightly as she felt the first gush arrive and watched open-mouthed as the jet of milky white, creamy fluid spurted a foot in the air, splashing her hands and face and his belly as it landed. She darted her head forward and caught the second gush in her mouth, feeling the sticky splashing into her throat. She allowed the warmth to dribble around her mouth, lapping it with her tongue as her own orgasm struck.
Vincent was slightly lost, he felt he should do something, but didn't know where to begin, so he clumsily reached for her breasts and began to squeeze. He could feel the stiff nipples through her clothes and the solid curve of breasts. Naive tweaking and fondling seemed to be having the desired effect and he jumped, startled, as Christine moaned, gasped and twitched with climax.
