Jenna Gives Up Sex For Lent Ch 05

Bishop George lay in a hospital bed between sleep and vague drowsiness. He was hot, frustrated and uncomfortable. Waiting. Waiting for the nurses to bring him food. Waiting for them to change him. He loathed being dependent on others like this. He'd always gone his own way, not caring whom he offended. Then again he was lucky to be alive, and boredom and frustration were the least of his worries. His leg had been reset, but he was very much troubled by the thought of infection developing.

Bishop George closed his eyes and wondered if he'd be well enough to attend the Easter service at St Michael's Church. He'd been looking forward to it for ages, and it was only two weeks away. Reverend Morris had just departed, having spent an hour with him. The visit had lifted the bishop's spirits and he was thankful for the vicar's kind words.

"That bloody cyclist! He shouldn't have been on the pavement in the first place!"

He'd been walking down the street and had been sent flying when a careless cyclist had crashed right into him. His right leg had been broken in three places. It had been a terrible ordeal, but he didn't expect to remain in hospital for long. You were soon booted out these days.

Bishop George sighed. He wasn't looking forward to his sister Anne, coming to care for him whilst he recovered. Anne was notoriously bossy.

Meanwhile, back at St Michael's Vicarage, Jenna sipped a coffee and idly ran her finger down the cup.

"Poor George," she said, as Reverend Morris returned from visiting him in the hospital. "You know something, why don't we let him stay with us while he recovers? We have two spare bedrooms, one for when Christopher stays over, but the smaller room would be ideal for George. It's got a folding bed."

Reverend Morris thought for a moment. "You're absolutely right, Jen. You're a true Christian. The Bishop has been very good to me since I took over at St Michael's. We could provide all the care he needs. Whilst his sister might mean well, she's a rather...fierce individual!"

"I only met her once. She scared me!"

The vicar nodded. "Besides, having him staying with us will help keep my mind off...er, you know. I've been struggling recently with what we've given up for Lent."

Jenna smiled. "I know Simon. You've done really well. Not much longer now. When Easter comes...He will rise...I'm not just talking about Jesus by the way..."

Reverend Morris bit his lip. "He might be rising already...Ohh! I can't wait to have sex again...must restrain myself. Right, I'll go and prepare the spare bedroom for George."

The bishop was more than delighted when Reverend Morris arrived to collect him from the hospital the next day.

"You're quite sure about this, Simon?" He said as the vicar pushed his wheelchair down the aisle. "I don't want to be a burden to you and Jenna. Busy weeks ahead for you, what with Holy Week and so on. And your son, doesn't he stay over on Fridays?"

"Think nothing of it, George. We have two spare bedrooms at the vicarage. There's room for everyone. Jenna and I are glad to have you staying with us. It'll be peace of mind knowing that you'll be safe and well-looked after."

Bishop George smirked to himself. He was definitely looking forward to getting some special therapy off Jenna. He remembered the little birthday ceremony he'd taken part in just before Christmas...

"Must say, I'm glad to be out of that hospital," he muttered, as he was helped into the car. "The bloke in the bed next to me - he lay there for two hours before someone realised he was dead. Poor sod. I said a few prayers for him."

"That's awful," Reverend Morris replied. "Well hopefully, you'll find the vicarage a lot more relaxing, and our meals a lot more edible. We both enjoy cooking."

He drove out of the hospital car park and headed for the motorway.

"The nursing staff said you were a difficult patient."

"I see. Quite the compliment." Bishop George said. "I'm sure they were exaggerating. Any news from church?" Is Jenna still learning to play the organ?"

The traffic noise was loud, as rush hour was approaching.

"Oh yes! She's made remarkable progress there - Gordon is a fantastic teacher. She's of a good enough standard to stand in for him on the rare occasions he isn't able to do the Sunday service."

"I'm sure," he replied. She is very talented indeed at playing a man's organ too! He said to himself.

"Our churchwarden Norman Winstanley has started spending a lot of time helping one of the older members of church around the house. Gladys Wilcox, she's in her eighties, widowed and lives alone. Her grandson helps where he can, but he works full-time so can't be there on weekdays. I can tell Gladys really enjoys having Norman call round. She's a sweet old lass, been at the church before I was even born. Her husband used to play the organ before Gordon took over."

"That's nice. Not many want to take the time to help the elderly these days."

Bishop George soon settled in at the vicarage. The bed was far more comfortable than the one in the hospital.

"I think I'll be just fine here," he grinned.

"We're glad to have you here with us George," Jenna said, as she brought him a cup of tea. Anything you need, don't hesitate to ask..."

"I wouldn't mind the touch of your healing hands," he whispered in Jenna's ear as she prepared to leave.

"Oh no can do, Bishop," Jenna replied. "I've given up sex for Lent! Poor Simon, he's been sleeping in the other spare bedroom ever since Ash Wednesday. It's been a struggle for both of us, but we've stuck to it."

Bishop George looked as if his recovery had taken a turn for the worse!

On Monday night, Reverend Morris was called to administer last rites to someone at the local hospice, leaving Jenna alone in the house to care for the bishop. As she sat reading something on her phone, she heard him moaning in pain.

"Poor George. His leg keeps aching. He must be so miserable. I suppose I could cheer him up a little...but I made a promise." She thought for a moment. "But it's justified if it speeds up his recovery."

Bishop George was half-asleep, when he heard Jenna entering his room. She sat down on the chair beside his bed.

His eyes shot open as he felt the bedsheet over his groin being lightly pulled down. His heart beat faster. "What...are you doing?"

"Aiding your recovery."

Excitement only increased further as the full reality of the situation dawned on him. Soon, he felt warm fingertips moving up his thigh. Bishop George's heart was pounding.

"I thought you'd given it up for Lent?"

"I have...but just this once, I'll make an exception for you. Promise you won't tell my husband? I've put him through so much suffering, denying him the pleasure."

"Oh my lips are sealed," Bishop George replied. "Besides, he's as fit as a fiddle. He'll have to suck it up and cope. I've had a terrible trauma. Any help you can provide, you know I'll be beyond grateful, my dear Jenna."

He was already semi-erect.

Jenna's hand went further, seeking holy treasure. She gently unfastened the restraining fabric of his pyjama bottoms and exposed his heated erection.

Bishop George put his hands together. "For what I am about to receive, O Lord, make me truly thankful."

Jenna gently teased and examined his shaft and foreskin, bending down close to breathe in the heavy, sweaty musk of his balls. Then she took his shaft between thumb and forefinger and begin to pleasure the older man with slow, deliberate, sensuous movements.

Unable to remain composed any longer, the bishop murmured. "Oh my God..."

Jenna continued to stroke him, experimenting with the rhythm and pressure. After a short while, he felt her lips start to trace up and down his cock, ever so lightly. Starting with his balls, and then moving upwards, she started to apply a series of delicate licks and kisses. Sweet Lord! What joy! It was so slow, so tender and intimate, and he knew at once that this was exactly the kind of healthcare he needed.

Bishop George was desperate to release, and Jenna placed her hand reassuringly in his. One long caress of his cock almost made him come. A little precum leaked out, and Jenna gathered it up with her tongue.

At last, she took the tip of his cock into her mouth, slowly and carefully. Her warm wet mouth felt incredible, and the bishop couldn't help but cry out in joy. Jenna descended right down to the base of his shaft, completely deep-throating him. Some final, wanton licks brought him over the edge, and he could take no more.

Bishop George's whole body trembled, as he climaxed and spent.

"Oh my Jenna!" He cried as he erupted in a powerful ejaculation. Pulse after pulse of his issue hit the back of her throat. She swallowed it all. The glorious, joyful spurting continued. The vicar's wife continued her masterful manipulations.

He fell back on the sweat-drenched pillow, his face gripped by sheer joyful release. Jenna let him recover for a moment and catch his breath. After a short while, he raised his hand and placed it gently against her cheek. Gathering his strength, he heaved himself up and brought her lips to his in a lingering kiss. She responded by slipping her arms around him.

"Are you feeling better now?" She whispered.

"Much better! I'll sleep like a log tonight and I just know I'll be up and walking around in no time!"

"I'm so relieved that it's only your leg that was injured, George. Thankfully, what matters is still in fine working order."

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening, brought them to their senses.

"Better get some sleep, George." Jenna whispered, giving him a final kiss.

"I will, and thanks again for your special worship. And don't worry about breaking your Lent promise...it was only a little bending of the rules...God won't mind. You were aiding my recovery after all..." He relaxed and fell into a blissful sleep.

Jenna could still taste the bishop's cum on her lips as she headed down the stairs.

"Ah, Jen! Is everything alright?" Reverend Morris said, hanging his coat up. "I hope George didn't give you too much trouble?"

"Oh no trouble at all. The old boy is sleeping like a baby."