THE VICAR'S DUTIES
On the Saturday afternoon of the vicar's wife's birthday week-end in London with her friend, Sarah, there was a garden party being held in the grounds of one of the wealthier widows of the parish. The widow lived in a large five bedroom mansion, with a large terrace which ran along the length of the rear of the house, with steps leading down to carefully maintained lawns and flower-beds. Garden furniture littered the lawns. Folding tables were covered with white cloths heavily loaded with buffet food of every description. And the wine bar, set up in a marquee, was well stocked, manned by two of the senior church wardens. Many guests were expected.
Profits were intended for the Church restoration fund. The roof was in urgent need of repair and several parishioners were holding events to provide much needed funds to pay for the work. Sheila's garden party would prove to be one of the highlights of the calendar! Lionel felt it a duty to attend. Well, after all, the vicar would be expected to be there. There would be many others there of course and Lionel's only duty would be to circulate among the guests and be relaxed and pleasant to them, encouraging them to part with as much money as possible.
Sheila was a very attractive lady of some maturity, living on her own means - or rather her late husband's pension. He had been a top solicitor and rather older than his wife. His sudden death from a heart attack three years earlier, had shocked the community. Now a respected widow, Sheila remained beautifully groomed, and a pleasure to the eye. That included Lionel's eye, for he was very taken with her - or more accurately, with her figure. She was in her late forties, tall, with close dark auburn hair. Though not particularly overweight, she did have a large pair of breasts and full thighs. And that was no exaggeration. A very handsome large body for Lionel to study when he thought no-one was looking.
But someone was looking. Sheila herself. She was flattered and a little amused. Perhaps he fancied her, she thought. Well, he was a very presentable fellow.
Lionel's wife, Susanna has beautiful breasts of course, but they are on the small side. Large breasts were Lionel's weakness. They fascinated him. There would be a good selection iof shapes and sizes for him to admire during the afternoon.
On the day of the garden party, however, Lionel's mind was far from relaxed. In the early hours of the morning, his daughter had visited him in his bed and, to his utter amazement, they had made love. Although it had been entirely at Emily's initiative, it was a happening that he should have resisted, but his physical desire had declined. In truth, he had been harboring erotic thoughts in his half-sleep at the time, and her climbing into bed was as an angel come to answer his prayer. A naked young female beside him was an open invitation to be fondled and the curves enjoyed to the full.
The memory was now more of a dream to him. A very pleasant one, but a dream none the less. And Emily had left immediately after breakfast to return to University via a visit to her grandparents on the way, so there had been little time to follow up the event..
In spite of this, Lionel had always been a serious, dedicated vicar. The one serious weakness in his intellectual make-up was that he was highly sexed. Sex had always been very demanding of him for as long as he could remember. He had always succumbed in to its demands - very frequently in fact - which was the cause of much dismay to him. He had virtually no control over its insatiable demands, which insisted on relief, and he had been brain-washed to believe that it was sin to abuse one's body in that way. So, it was one of his religious tutors at college who had finally managed to remove that deep-seated feeling of abject guilt Lionel felt after masturbating.
The tutor had explained to him that God had no quarrel with self gratification if was done merely to remove any feelings of tension within the mind, allowing it to concentrate on sober religious thoughts and duties. In fact, Lionel and the tutor had performed the occasional mutual masturbation session in the chapel. It was during one of these that the tutor explained to Lionel that he would find himself in demand by some of the frustrated ladies in his parish when he was found a living. This was not to be regarded as sinful - on the contrary, he would be performing an act of mercy by relieving the unfortunate ladies of physical shortcomings.
The realization that sex and self abuse was not regarded as sinful, had Lionel celebrate by indulging in an private orgy of masturbation. To his surprise, he still felt guilty! Old habits die hard and it took some months before he began to feel really comfortable afterwards.
It was Lionel's penance to have an almost permanently erect phallus. Only after the act of masturbation or, later in life, of fornication, was he allowed a brief respite from the stiffness. It was an acute embarrassment to him at times, but he had long concluded that it was God's will that it should be so, having made him that way. To be always ready to perform His will, Lionel thought. This was the only way he was able to accept what he considered to be his weakness. He wore elasticated underwear round his waist to hold the offending part against his belly, so that any sudden surge of excitement would not be noticed by others.
Lionel soon discovered after being given his first parish, as the tutor had predicted, that there were a few ladies who welcomed him into their clandestine arms. A welcome he was happy to accept. Indeed, he came to regard this as a pastoral duty - performing an act of kindness to some of his less fortunate parishioners. One particularly literary widow had described Lionel's pubic curls as being like interlaced strands of gold. Glittering in the sunlight, she described them as a halo glowing round the base of his glorious penis. A truly holy weapon. A truly handsome penis - the work of God. Mankind's supreme power. She waxed lyrical about the vicar's penis, particularly when it finally penetrated the portals of her secret altar amid happy sighs and moans.
However, the time came when he decided the time had come to find himself a wife, in order to dispel the rumors that were beginning to circulate about his sexual exploits. Susanna had been a perfect wife to Lionel, providing him with a daughter and a camouflage for his extra sexual activities. So, it came as a shock to him to discover that his wife was accused of having had an affair with the head choir boy. An eighteen year old Lothario, no less! There was no truth in the allegation, of course - at least, he preferred to believe there wasn't - but after close consultation with the headmaster of the young man's school and his own Bishop, it was arranged for Lionel to be found a different parish. Fortunately, one was available due to the retirement of the incumbent vicar.
So it was that the handsome forty-five year old vicar and his wife took up residence in their new village parish some twenty miles from the scene of the previous misfortune. And, of course, there were plenty of new attractive ladies in the offing for Lionel to discover. Angela in particular was a regular recipient of Lionel's sexual advances. A plain, but well endowed forty year old schoolteacher spinster, she had an insatiable appetite for sex. Unfortunately, though, Angela had recently left the parish to look after her elderly mother. There was still Janice, although she was not one to share in the action, lying immobile, legs apart, whilst Lionel intoned 'prayers' over her whilst fornicating. Strange lady! Still, she had full, conical-shaped breasts which proved very satisfying.
It had been with some relief to Lionel that he became aware of his wife's affair with Lady Sarah. An injudicious phone call he had overheard alerted him to their sexual encounters. He was more than happy with the arrangement, giving him some relief from the guilt he felt about having other women himself. And they don't come more discreet that Lady Sarah. They would surely be having a happy time on London whilst he was ogling the ladies in their summer dresses.
For the garden party, it had been a perfect summer morning. The sun had shone all the time and the wine had been consumed in quantities. But the event was drawing to a close. Many of the guests had eaten and drunk their fill - some rather more than was good for them - and started to drift away in the late afternoon. Helpers were busy clearing away the garden furniture and removing the remains if the food, which would be served with coffee the following day after the morning service. The marquees would be dismantled and taken away on Monday.
Combined with the heat, the wine had stirred Sheila's body with a vague awareness, a pleasant feeling of sexual desire. She found, now in her late forties, her interest in sex had become rather more intense. The sight of the vicar furtively studying her breasts had resulted in a slight ache in her belly, which craved pacifying with the feel of a thick cock inside her. But there was no hurry. Among the meaningless chatter of guests, the distant laughter, Sheila remembered her younger days when she would manage relieve her aching loins with deft fingers.
