The other day went to a place I sometimes
go. I stop for a coffee and a ponder.
And I let my mind wander. The place is a
manor house, built in 1460.
I once showed you a picture of it.
Inside there are many hidden passages and
cellars. Most exciting is the fact that it has a real Priest Hole. Yes, a place
where you can hide your very own pornographic object.
Priest Holes were actually places where you
would hide your bacchant during the
periods of history where Catholics were persecuted by law. But I wondered if
men of the cloth were ever hidden for other reasons?
I imagined myself as a priest on call. I’d
sit and wait for You to come knocking. I’d have my clerical robes on; my collar
and, because we’re somewhere in the distant mists of time, I’d be wearing some
form of leg stocking.
As lady of the manor it is your prerogative
to do to me what you will. I am in your hands. Your husband knows nothing of
our relationship. He sees me as the holy man that I am. Just not the wholly
inappropriate one.
You came calling last week by candlelight.
I was reading, having been given the wink by you earlier. You had whispered to
me in the passageway that you wished to see me this nightfall.
It was late. I heard footsteps above me on
the wooden floor and recognised you instantly. Slightly quick of step, you
knocked twice on the hatch and descended the steep stone steps, the sound of
your crinoline dress swishing and sweeping closer.
In the tight space of the Priest Hole and
in the half-light, I could make out your heaving bosom and tightly pulled in,
corseted waistline. Without a word, you
reached up on your tiptoes and kissed me deeply on the mouth.
As you pulled away, you lifted your skirts
and showed me your state of undress. You reached for my cock beneath my robes
but now it was me who pulled away.
As you know, fellatio is forbidden by law
and punishment is severe.
I had often seen you glance down at me when
we had talked in chapel.
But before I could do anything, you had
bent over my chair with your cunny raised up for me. ‘Lick me. Lick my cunt. Do
it now,’ you ordered.
I began kissing just above the back of your
knee and moved upwards in small pecks, nearing your own glory hole. As I
reached your swollen outer lips, you parted your legs wider allowing my tongue
to flick over your sweet wetness. This instantly gave way to a flow of juices and
I gratefully lapped at them.
Taking you firmly in my hands and holding
your hips, you pushed back forcibly into my mouth as I buried my head deeper
into you. My cock was hard as church marble under my cassock and I could feel
the tip moisten with ye pre cum.
I felt you begin to coil and tighten. I
turned you over to face me so I could flicker over your clit with my tongue.
You held your still covered breasts in your hands. I could now sweep fully up
and around your cunny and I made small circular motions. “Take out thy cock for
me, Nicimos I wish to see it. Place it around my mouth.”
“No,” I responded.” The punishment is severe
for us both. I dare not.”
“Place it in my mouth. That is an order,
Nicimos. I implore thee.”
But I didn’t move from your cunt. I
continued knowing that you were on the edge of coming.
“Your cock inside me, damn you! Fuck me.
Fuck me now… I beg thee!”
Your voice had raised to dangerously high
levels. I placed my hand over your mouth and blew cool air over your glistening
sex. This seemed to inflame you even more, like air to a bonfire.
“I implore thee Nicimos! Take out thy cock
for I shall surely die! Now, you son of a dog!”
And with that, I returned to your cunny
with my tongue. Your anger and arousal sending you somewhere you struggled to
comprehend. But you were too far into your orgasmic journey. You couldn’t hold
back anymore and wave after wave of a warm, shuddering release coursed through
you.
You seemed to remain in this state for a
century; squirming, shuddering and convulsing in my clasp. Holding my head into
you, pulling me in tighter. My hair gripped by your soft, feminine hands.
I could no longer hold back. I stood and
began unbuttoning my cassock, my cock poised beneath my black robes. Suddenly,
the trap door above began to move.
Startling light flooded us. You quickly
regained yourself and opened my prayer book, the pages falling on Corinthians.
I stood and waited for the uninvited guest to appear down the steps. It was
your husband. “Are you there? I have been searching the house for you. It is
time for us to retire to our chambers. Why are you bothering this Priest?”
You silently stood. As you passed, you
looked me in the eye. Knowing full well your husband was there, you deliberately
brushed your hand against my rock hard cock.
You turned as you reached the bottom of the
steps and glanced back at me over your shoulder.
I had no way of knowing when you would come
knocking again.
To be continued... ; )