Reverend Morris turned into the quiet cul-de-sac of Rosebay Gardens and pulled up in front of Mrs Wilcox's bungalow.
"Hope the old girl doesn't find this book too rude," he muttered to himself as he knocked on the door. Noticing a pair of garden gnomes dressed in bondage gear, he smiled.
"Guess she won't!"
After a few minutes, no-one came to the door. Reverend Morris fiddled with his clerical collar. The June heatwave was showing no sign of ending. Hearing laughter, he walked down the side of the house and opened the rear gate.
"Yoo hoo! Anyone there?"
He wasn't prepared for what he saw next.
"Oh Vicar! I didn't hear you!" Mrs Wilcox cheerfully exclaimed as she dropped the riding crop. "Norman, I told you to lock that garden gate..."
The churchwarden, his hairy, bare buttocks red from repeated whippings, leapt to his feet and adjusted the floral print apron, which was his only item of clothing.
"Ah...good afternoon to you, Reverend! This is...um, well I guess it looks bad."
"Dear God!" The vicar spluttered. "Jenna was right all along!"
Norman was mortified. "Er, I was...we were..."
"He's been a naughty boy," Mrs Wilcox cut in, rising from the garden chair. "He forgot to mow the lawn. I'm still training him, you see."
"What's going on here?" Reverend Morris gasped. "Norman...are you some kind of slave?"
"Heh, er, pretty much," the embarrassed churchwarden replied. "It's a fetish I never knew I had, or knew she had."
"My garden isn't overlooked, Vicar and we're both consenting adults. No harm in a bit of what you fancy, is there? Norman, sweetie, why don't you go and clad yourself in something more suitable and make us all a nice cup of Earl Grey, eh? There's a good lad. She gave his arse a playful slap as he hurried into the house.
"Now Vicar," the old lady said, turning to face him. She grinned, but behind that sweet facade lay steely determination and unbridled spirit. "Why yes, I'm eighty-six. I suppose I should be doing crosswords and watching episodes of Midsomer Murders instead of whipping a younger man's bare behind, eh? You look rather shocked. I must say, I'm surprised at your blushes, given that your lovely wife Jenna has quite a fancy for our dear church organist."
Reverend Morris wasn't sure what to say. Norman must've told her about what went on in the church when I arranged Jenna's special birthday surprise, he thought. Damn. I swore him to secrecy.
"Oh I don't judge, I don't judge at all!" He said quickly. "Whatever turns you on, Gladys. I'm pleased that you're both enjoying yourselves!"
"Just like you and your good wife and Gordon enjoyed yourselves in the church hall at Easter, am I right?" She winked at him. There was no way to deny it, for the old lass knew everything. Nosey little old ladies had a habit of knowing the deepest, darkest secrets of every member of a church.
"Er, that. It was...a one off. It just happened. We got carried away in the heat of moment!" Reverend Morris stammered.
"As is the usual way," Mrs Wilcox replied.
"How did you...erm, find out?"
"Couldn't resist a peek through the keyhole," she said. That wasn't actually true, but she wasn't going to confess to the camera and Mrs Norris' failed attempt at blackmail.
"You're a bit of a dark horse, Vicar," Mrs Wilcox continued. "Gordon lends himself well to naughtiness, but you always seemed the shy type. Quite the stamina you displayed." She patted his arm. "I must admit, I had doubts when you took over from Reverend Smith, God rest his soul. I was wrong."
"Very kind of you to say," he said, starting to relax. "Um, about that church hall incident...you haven't said anything have you?"
"My lips are sealed, dearie!"
Reverend Morris exhaled. "Praise the Lord. Thank you, Gladys!" He was relieved she didn't know about Jenna's "bukkake baptism" in the church last year. That would've been too much to excuse.
In the house, came the sound of a whistling kettle reaching the boil.
"Forgive me asking this but, how did you and Norman come to be...er, in such an arrangement?"
"He wasn't my first choice," she said, with no hint of shame. "I wanted Gordon to step into the role, but he chickened out. Shame, as he showed such promise that afternoon when he came to practice on the organ...and my word, I enjoyed playing with his organ, let me tell you! I said to him, if I were thirty years younger, I'd have done a lot more with his organ! My body's far too old for such things, alas. But he seemed to really enjoy the blowjob I gave him. I haven't lost my touch!"
The vicar felt as though he was about to faint. He would never look at this frail-looking little pensioner in the same way again.
"Well...that's good to know!"
Presently, the kitchen door opened and Norman, now wearing a bathrobe, stepped out onto the patio, carrying a tray.
