The Lascivious Monk

CHAPTER V. Mother and Son

Barely ten minutes had gone by since Theresa left, her thighs still dripping with blood, when the doorbell rang again.

Just then, Pineraide was busy dipping his prick in cold water, because all the screwing of the day had made the tip a little bit sore.

“Goddamn it,” he mumbled, “who the hell can that be. They can go and fuck themselves, but I am not going to open that door.”

But the doorbell rang again, more insistent than the first time, and the poor priest was forced to throw his cassock over his naked body and rush to the front door.

Before him stood a young woman, thirty-two at the most, dressed in a morning coat, a little boy of three or four in her arms. The woman looked very appetizing. In a word, she was beautiful! She looked very much like the little Theresa but she was taller, stronger, and her features were more pronounced. Her bosom was simply marvelous. The huge, heavy tits shook up and down under her morning gown with every move she made. They were full and round, and the nipples jutted provocatively against the linen of her dress. Her face was clean, her forehead without a wrinkle, and her eyes were-like those of Theresa-clear and frank. The babe in her arms was sound asleep.

“What can I do for you, dear woman?” asked Father Pineraide.

“Father,” answered the young woman frankly, “I am Theresa's mother. Maybe you remember the little girl you noticed this morning. You were kind enough to pat her cheek. I was very flattered that you seemed to like my little daughter so much and I take the liberty to thank you in person for your kindness.”

“Madame, that is very nice of you. Would you like to come in? Maybe we could talk a little.”

The priest stepped back, inviting the young woman in. She did not have to be cajoled and soon she was, like her daughter before her, locked in the bedroom of our lustful young priest.

Pineraide observed her with the look of a true connoisseur and he began to like what he saw more and more. Thirty-two is just about the ideal age in the life of a woman. It is the age where passionate women have reached the peak of their capacity and utmost ability to enjoy whatever a man may ask of them. And she looked very passionate, this young, blonde woman. Her eyes betrayed her. The priest liked it very much. The big fold in front of his cassock betrayed him. He was getting a hard-on again.

Moreover, it would make his day! Wouldn't it be marvelous to fuck the mother after having deflowered the daughter. On the same day, and on the same bed? What could compare with that?

With that in mind, he offered the young woman a chair, and she sat down, the child still in her arms.

The priest stood in front of her. Only the cassock covered his naked frame. For a moment there was a deep silence. Theresa's mother looked curiously around the room and was happily surprised that it looked so comfortable. Then she saw the bed. She noticed that it was very untidy, the sheets and blankets rumpled, and she blushed slightly. Then one could see her nostrils flare when she deeply inhaled the intoxicating smell which permeated the room. It was, so to speak, the smell of tender flesh. Finally she began to speak.

“Maybe you think that I am rather bold,” she began, smiling demurely, “but… what else could I do? The moment I saw you, I liked your face and I said to myself that you were the father confessor I needed. And, since I have committed a grave sin, I decided to see you immediately and confess. Did I do wrong?”

“No, not at all… on the contrary,” answered the priest. “And to prove that you were right, I shall hear you immediately…”

“Father, I am terribly grateful.”

“The child in your arms must be uncomfortable. Why don't you put him on my bed? Your arms must be getting terribly tired.”

“You are right, father. Even though the little tyke still gets the breast, he can get awfully heavy at times. But I took him along anyway because you know how the neighbors are. I did not want to start any gossip by coming here alone…”

And she got up, carrying the child into the priestly bed. But the moment she started to move, the little brat woke up and began to scream. The young woman sat down again.

“Oh,” she said, “I know how I can get him quiet.”

She opened a button of her dress and out popped an enormous breast, snow white and bursting with milk. She stuck the nipple into the child's mouth, and the screaming stopped immediately.

“Madame,” said the priest whose member began to swell uncomfortably under his cassock, “you have one of the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen.”

“Haven't I?” the young woman answered with a smile. And she added, impishly, “The other one looks just like it.”

“I doubt that very much,” said the priest.

He came closer to Theresa's mother and said, “You told me that you had committed a grave sin.”

“Yes… oh, yes!”

“And what was the nature of that sin?”

Well, at least he did not beat around the bush.

The young woman looked up at the handsome priest who was standing in front of her, like a young Apollo. Then her eyes strayed toward the center of his cassock which seemed to be in a terrible uproar. Her voice quivered when she said, “Well… you see… it was like this… for the first time, I allowed my husband to stick it in from behind.”

“When was that?”

“Last night. And it hurt so much that I screamed and fainted.”

“I can believe that. Your husband must be very large.”

“What do you mean, Father? Large what?”

“Yes… oh… I mean… I was going to say… he must have a rather large… well, in short, he must have a well-developed prick.”

“I would not know. I have never seen anyone else's.'

“Is that really true?”

“Is that true! I swear it upon the head of my innocent little baby!”

“All right, all right… I believe you.”

“Thank you, Father. But could you please tell me the gravity of my sin. Wasn't it terribly sinful of me to allow my husband to take his pleasure that way?”

“My good woman, absolutely not.”

“Not!”

“You're damned right!”

“Do you truly believe that, Father?”

“I know it for a fact, and if I were married…”

“I beg your pardon?”

The priest could no longer contain himself, and he exploded. “I mean, you lovely woman, that if I were married, above all married to a delicious morsel like you, I would fuck my heart out night and day, screw you up front and from behind, bang you wherever I could stick it in, and I would shit upon hellfire and damnation. And I would like to add that I would consider myself blessed if I could stud you with a prick of considerable dimensions. Why don't you take a good look for yourself.”

And with those words, the priest flung open his cassock, showing himself naked to the young woman.

Theresa's mother had not expected this sudden exhibition and she gasped with delighted surprise.

“Oh, my dear God!” she exclaimed, examining the gigantic prick which powerfully jutted in front of her. “Oh, my dear God, that is a fantastic, fairy-tale prick you have on your belly… ooh, it's the most beautiful cock I have ever seen. Baptiste's weenie is a mere prank compared to this marvelous monster!”

“Who is Baptiste?”

“That's my husband.”

“And do you believe that this prick can stay quiet in front of these marvelous breasts upon which my eyes are feasting, and that it can resist the charming flesh which my hands are squeezing? Oh, no, my dearest lady. You have set me afire, and it is your duty to extinguish the flames of passion and lust that are devouring me…”

“Oh, yes,” she answered quickly, “I would be delighted… I… I wouldn't want anything else! Such a fantastic cock must be heavenly when it is shoved up my belly, But, unfortunately, my little one is in the way…”

“Oh, he is sleeping again; put him on the couch.”

The young woman hurried to follow the priest's advice, but as soon as the baby felt the pillow, he began to scream again. What were they going to do?

“Let him scream,” said the priest, “we can fuck anyway. Give him to me while you take off your clothes. When you are naked, I'll give him back to you.”

With a few quick movements the woman, who had become wild at the sight of the priest's gigantic prick, took off her clothes. And when she stood naked before him, he handed her the child which she suckled without shame. The priest looked at it with curiosity.

To be honest, the mother seemed a lot better than the daughter. But the priest did not want to lose much time in contemplation and comparison because he wanted to use his precious time for action. He pulled the woman upon his lap and began to caress her tickler. His mouth eagerly sucked the tit the baby boy wasn't using at the time.

“That's all fine and dandy,” the young woman said, “but I prefer to feel that marvelous cock stuck deep in my cunt…”

“Wait a while. Feel it first, caress it, and find out for yourself how hard and strong it is,” panted the priest.

Theresa's mother put her free hand upon the priest's prick and whispered hoarsely, “Oh, it's marvelous. It's a miracle. That thing must be at least ten inches. And it is so thick and warm!”

“Pet it a little bit…”

“Yes… yes… but please, please, don't come that way. I want you to squirt everything, everything you have deep into my hole. Oh, my God, I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you, that you would be the best stud in town… I could see it in your eyes… and that is the only reason I had to see you. Wasn't that nice of me?”

“Of course… just don't stop jacking me off…”

“But the little boy hampers me.”

“Throw him on the bed!”

“But what if he begins to cry?”

“Then we'll just have to let him cry… I just can't hold it up much longer. I am about to come.”

“So am I…”

“I've got to stick it in… quick… get rid of the brat…”

The young woman carried the child toward the bed, but she had barely time to put it down. The priest had grabbed her and thrown her on the floor. But this time he had to grapple with a strong and experienced partner. The young woman squirmed and bucked, threw herself sideways, retracted, pushing her cunt toward him; in short, she behaved like a wild tiger, intent upon enjoying her pleasure to the fullest extent. Then she pulled away again, fingering his asshole, squeezing his balls and her eager lips were sucking the tip of his bursting prick. The priest knew now what a woman is capable of doing when she is turned on by a gigantic, stiff cock. She finally let him stick it into her, and his knob and shaft disappeared into her warm, well-oiled cunt. It was the most delightful pleasure he had ever tasted.

They copulated madly on the floor for at least an hour, and Theresa's mother spasmed several times. The good priest, himself an athlete in the bedroom, began to have a deep respect for her. She was absolutely insatiable and could match every one of his wild desires.

Finally, she begged the priest to give her a moment's respite. He remembered her daughter's accident all too well and said, “The toilet is at the end of the hall, right next to my study.”

“Fine, but I have no intention to catch a cold. If you don't mind, I'll wear your cassock.” Pineraide showed his newfound mistress where to go, and returned quite naked to his bedroom.

He must have been possessed by the devil that day, because in spite of all his efforts, his prick was beginning to get hard again. When he came back into his bedroom, he saw the little boy had awakened and was sitting on the pillow, looking at him curiously.

“Mommie, Mommie,” the little boy began to whine.

“She is shitting,” grunted the priest, “and shut up, you little asshole.”

But the child, afraid of the priest's gruff voice, began to cry again.

“Oh, God, that's all I need,” groaned the priest, “the little bastard begins to howl again. I wish I had something I could stick in his mouth.”

The answer appeared to him in a flash.

“Hohoho! How would you like to suck my dick, little kiddie. Isn't that funny. Come on, give Uncle Anatole a blow job,” and he walked over to the bed, rubbing his prick against the little boy's face. “Here, take it. Suck! See what a nice big lollipop!”

Actually, the priest was quite surprised when the little brat stopped crying, and instead grabbed for the huge pole the priest offered him. The child laughed happily and began to play with the prick.

But no matter what he tried, the good father did not succeed in making the child do what the little goat had done so well.

When the priest finally realized that he was getting nowhere, he went into the pantry and dipped his dong in the strawberry jam. With triumphant smile he returned to the filthy little brat who eagerly began to suck the sweetened prick…

Soon the tickling of the little tongue began to show its effect. The priest's hard-on was considerable, and he began to get good and horny again. He was just about ready to grab the kid, turn him over on his stomach, and fuck him in the ass, when the mother returned from the toilet. She saw what was going on, and Father Pineraide was prepared for a terrible scene. However, the woman said very quietly, “No, let's not do that. You might hurt him. But, if you want to come in a fantastic burst of pleasure, I have an idea. Lift him up, high over your head, and stick your tongue in his butt. I'll kneel in front of you and lick off the rest of the strawberry jam. You'll see, it's divine.”

It was said and done! The little one balanced precariously in the air, and it was most likely for the first time that his little ass was cornholed by the eager, hot tongue of a priest. The tyke seemed to like it very much, because his little legs kicked lustily and he crowed with pleasure. Meanwhile, his mother had knelt down and was pumping the long, throbbing prick according to all the rules of the art. She was also masturbating herself furiously, and her free hand was expertly massaging the balls of Father Pineraide.

And just at the moment when the good priest could no longer hold back, coming with huge spurts into the mouth of Theresa's mother; just when Theresa's mother had her body racked with delicious spasms; just when the little brat reached the peak of his exuberance by farting in the face of Father Pineraide… just at that delicious moment of pure ecstasy, the door opened!

The old housekeeper had forgotten her cape. She looked, saw… screamed, and fainted.