The Lascivious Monk

CHAPTER VI. Resurrection

When Father Pineraide saw his old housekeeper faint, he lost his nerve, and he dropped the little boy. Fortunately, the brat landed upon the rumpled bed.

“Oh, for God's sake!” the priest exclaimed, “I am ruined. The old bitch is going to run into the village, blabber all over the place, and then she is going to the bishop to tell him what she has seen!”

And, drying his balls, he began to think about how to get himself out of this mess.

The young woman, on the other hand, did not seem in the least perturbed or confused. She dressed quickly, that is true, then took her little baby in her arms, and took her leave of the priest.

“I hope, Father, that it will not be the last time that I have had the opportunity to play with your beautiful dingaling. I hope to see you and that gorgeous cock of yours, soon again.”

“Yes, yes,” answered the priest, “but first I have to make sure that my housekeeper will keep her blabbermouth shut.”

Theresa's mother left, and Pineraide did not bother to show her to the door. The old housekeeper was still in a deep faint, stretched out full length on the carpet. The good Father Anatole bent over her and called her name repeatedly.

“Gertrud, Gertrud!”

The priest shook her. Miss Gertrud did not move. Her old body was limp and seemed lifeless.

“Well, now, I can't let her lie here on the carpet,” mused Pineraide, “that would be sort of inhumane. I'll just have to pick her up and put her on the bed.”

His strong arms picked her up as if she were light as a feather, and he carried her to his bed. The old lady seemed to be choking and thus it became necessary to loosen her corset. For this, he had to take off her dress and pull off her petticoats. He was pleasingly surprised when he noticed that her skin was soft and very white.

“I'll be damned,” he mumbled. “Who would have thought that the old hag still has so much desirable flesh on her body. I have only known her for two days, and I haven't really had a chance to get to know her. But it seems that the old dame deserves more credit than I gave her. She must be at least fifty years old, she could easily be my mother, and she looks very well preserved. Her face is wrinkled and ugly, but her tits sure have a lot of mileage left in them. Jesus, these old crones are full of weird surprises. I wonder if the rest of her is still useful… I'll take off the rest of her clothes. After all, I have good reason, because it seems to me that she is about to choke to death.”

And the priest began to undress his old housekeeper. He first wanted to take off her horrible corset, but that was not as easy as it seemed. He had to remove her dress which was difficult, because the old lady remained completely limp. When he had finally succeeded, he discovered that the rest of her clothing was rather skimpy. He had expected a lot of knit, warm underwear. Instead, he saw two milk-white breasts and well-rounded shoulders.

He began to regain some of his courage. His boldness began to excite him, and his curiosity spurred him on to divest the woman of the remainder of her clothing. He quickly pulled down her petticoats and stockings, and then he began the hard task of unhooking that terrible corset. All she wore now was a thin chemise. Having gone this far, the priest decided that he might as well go all the way. His housekeeper would be fighting mad anyway when she woke up.

So, after he had first tasted the delights of a young girl and a mature woman, after he had taken the cherry of a fifteen-year-old virgin and fucked a hot and willing mother, after he had seen a rosy, tight, barely hairy little pussy and also sampled a strong, well-trained cunt, after he had crawled over firm breasts, white thighs, squeezed hard nipples, licked navels, assholes and sucked the delightful cracks of mother and daughter, after he had even seriously contemplated buggering a three-year-old little boy, the priest was getting horny again upon contemplating the more than ripe, helplessly limp body of his fifty-year-old housekeeper. By God, it was true, the more he looked at her, the stiffer his cock became.

And the good Father Pineraide was not the man to let this marvelous chance slip by unused.

There she was, the old woman, stretched out mother-naked upon the bed, in a deep faint, and looking like an innocent newborn babe.

“This,” the priest mused, “was, of course, only in a manner of speaking.”

She was flat on her back, and she showed no intention of returning back to life. The priest called her once more, before he began his thorough examination.

“Miss Gertrud… Miss Gertrud, wake up! Don't you notice what I am doing?… no?… can you hear me at all?”

But Gertrud did not move. She was limp and lifeless, completely relaxed, and stark naked.

“Her heart is beating, her hands are warm… don't be afraid, old boy… I can examine her without fear. Let's begin with her face… She sure looks funny. Sallow, wrinkled skin and then suddenly that fair, white body… I could almost swear that she is looking at me; her eyes are half-open, and they look clear. They are actually friendly eyes, not mean at all. Pastor Duretron, who has kept her in his household for over fifteen years as his… ah… cousin, surely had no reason to complain… her mouth is no longer beautiful, and her lips are a little weak and slack… I bet the old Duretron has shoved his prick in between them rather often. That mouth is made to suck cock. A few little prickly hairs here and there, no teeth and soft gums. Oh, just that mouth gumming the tip of your prick must feel good. Seems to me the right pressure to make it last long. It must feel like fucking a chicken-the head wouldn't be bothered by sharp teeth… yes, yes, the mouth of a young girl is only there to be kissed and for tongue play, but for a delicious sucking nothing can beat the toothless mouth of an old woman…”

After he had thoroughly inspected Gertrud's head, the parson's eyes strayed downward. It's true, the old woman's dugs could not compare with Theresa's firm little boobies, nor with the huge tits of her mother, but they were not bad at all… still fairly firm, and the rosy tips were quite youthful. Probably because the old woman had never suckled a child. So, on his way down, the priest pressed a little kiss upon each of the rosy buds and, much to his surprise, they immediately became firm and stretched their little heads up high. A deep sigh escaped Gertrud's throat. But that was all. She remained lifeless as ever and did not regain her consciousness.

“That's a rather strange phenomenon,” said the priest, “here we have a case of a soul, obviously sound asleep, and a body which is, equally as obvious, quite awake. It quivers under my caresses, and it jerks when I squeeze it. Truly, God's creatures are strange and incomprehensible. We can but bless them.”

And, philosophizing to himself, the priest continued to stroke, kiss and caress the tips of Gertrud's breasts. His hands carefully cupped the big mounds and he licked alternately one nipple and then the other, enjoying the sight of them shrinking and jutting out again. He parted the twin globes to press a kiss upon the cleavage when he saw something that struck him momentarily dumb.

“I'll be damned,” he whispered, after he regained his composure. “So there is Gertrud's secret! A big tattoo! A priest, sitting on a chair, a woman who is being screwed in the behind and a masturbating guardian angel who is hovering over them. That surely must be old Duretron, shoving it up Miss Gertrud's ass. I can't believe my eyes. And that masturbating angel… it's almost sacrilege! It makes me horny, though…

“One thing is sure. My little secret is safe with Miss Gertrud. I caught her, so to speak, red-breasted. I doubt if she's ever going to give me any trouble…”

Quite at ease now, the priest leisurely continued his examination of the old woman's body. Finally he reached the point which interested him most, namely, her cunt. But Miss Gertrud's thighs were firmly closed and obscured what he wanted to see. He pulled them carefully apart which was not difficult at all. To his surprise he saw a beautiful, gray bush which looked like a snow landscape.

“Oh, that is wonderful!” exclaimed the priest. “By God, that was worth the trouble. I am glad to see this fifty-year-old hole. Now I can compare. First I had Theresa's little pussy with a few sparse golden hairs… spring. Then I enjoyed the mother's slit, covered with a golden forest… the summer! And now my housekeeper shows me wintertime! But what a pleasant winter. Truly, the old one has a twat that really makes me horny as hell!”

During his monologue, Pineraide had shoved his finger into the snowy bush and slowly his hand wandered into the grotto which was hidden by it. He found a yawning gap. His hand went farther, disappearing up to his wrist. A large tickler jumped playfully toward him.

Now the good Father no longer looked at Miss Gertrud's face. He was completely absorbed by the gray-haired cunt. This was good, because Miss Gertrud was having trouble not to blink her eyelids.

Pulled down by an invisible power, our pastor bowed his head deeper and deeper… soon his lips were a mere inch away from the seductively yawning cunt. He could no longer contain himself. His eager lips dove into the gray muff and he began to flick the big tickler with his tongue.

“Ooh, that feels so good,” Miss Gertrud suddenly whispered with a deep sigh.

“I gather the old sow has come to,” Pineraide said, without stopping, “and it seems that she is not mad at all. On the contrary, the old cunt is getting wider and slicker with every kiss and that tickler is almost as stiff as my hard-on. Now I would like to see what a fifty-year-old woman does when she comes…”

And the good priest worked diligently on his task. Suddenly, two hands grabbed the back of his head and tried to press him deeper and deeper. The old spinster began to twist and groan.

“Oooh… you are the best muff-diver I have ever had… Lord, you are soooo goooood… much better than Father… Duretron… he never licked as well as you do! Ooooh… aaah… And… it always… used to… take so long… ooh, please… be good to me… stick a finger… up my asshole… yes, yes… that's it. Fine… now, please, deeper… as far as you can… ooh! Good! Great! Please… start shoving it up and down… don't stop with your tongue… faster, oh, please, faster! Oh, God… I'm coming, I'm coming… oooh, I wish I had your prick in o my mouth… you wouldn't regret it!.. Oh, please, please, don't stop!

“Turn around slowly… that's it… ooh, how beautiful… what a marvelous prick… and sooo big! The stump of Father Duretron was a mere sausage compared to this beauty. And your balls; they're so nice and firm and hairy! Mmmmm… delicious… I am going to… aaah!” Gertrud's monologue was suddenly cut short, and with good reason.

The priest forgot completely about the age of his housekeeper. He devoured her pussy in a wild attack. He felt marvelous. There he was, his head between her thighs, his nose up the crack between her full buttocks, his lips pressed against her vagina, and his tongue flicking against her tickler. Her cunt twitched and spasmed, driving Father Pineraide out of his mind. On the other side, Miss Gertrud sucked his dick expertly, gumming the throbbing knob with her toothless mouth.

Obviously, dessert was served soon after this delicious dinner. Miss Gertrud came with a jolting spasm and at the same time the priest's loins began to twitch and his balls emptied their load into her mouth. The feeling was so overwhelmingly delicious that Father Pineraide completely forgot where his prick was hidden and he began to buck and ride, pounding wildly as if his cock was up a cunt, shoving his pole deeper and deeper into the throat of the poor woman. She was unable to get air, began to thrash wildly, and started to choke. Her thrashing made Father Pineraide so horny again that he began to ride her for a second time. His face buried deep in her twat, biting her tickler, shoving his finger high into her asshole, Anatole started his second screw. The shaft of his penis was buried deeply in Miss Gertrud's throat and the throbbing knob blocked off the air passage. The poor woman merely twitched… the cock of the priest pounded against her heart, and the inveterate fucker could only feel that his prick was solidly entombed in a warm, moist hole. He threw his full weight against the poor, ravished face of his housekeeper. His balls slammed so hard against her eyes that they were about to turn black and blue. One more deep shove, and Pineraide came to a rest. He was so excited that he did not realize that his partner had stopped participating. Suddenly, he had a brilliant idea…

He took leave of the tickler, pulled his tool out of the narrow passage, turned around and grabbed Gertrud around the waist. He turned her on her belly, because he did not want to look at the sallow, toothless face. Then he drilled without pity, grunting with pleasure, his big tool into her behind. He came almost immediately. He did not in the least feel sorry for the poor woman but instead he poked around in her behind for another ten minutes. His pole was still stiff and hard and he was trying to come again, for the third time.

He was so delighted that it took him a while before he realized that his housekeeper had stopped moving altogether.

“What? Don't tell me that you have had enough already… you poor old woman. Come on, show some courage… here we go again. Lift up a little bit and push your ass towards me… I promise that this is my last number…”

But Miss Gertrud did not answer. His entreaties fell on deaf ears. He implored again, but to no avail. On the contrary, her skin turned slack, and her arms and legs were stiffening… And her roomy asshole began to contract, getting narrower and narrower. The priest suddenly discovered that he was unable to pull out.

First he believed that the old woman had a new trick up her sleeve, and he was willing to comply. He pushed as hard as he could, straining his back and buttocks. His cock had been shoved up to the hilt. Then he discovered that they were so firmly locked together, as if he had put his prick in a vacuum cylinder. The hole kept contracting still more, and the priestly dick was firmly locked, notwithstanding the desperate struggles of its owner.

Now he begged Gertrud to stop her joking.

“Enough is enough!” he screamed. “Open up, you old bitch… you're squeezing my dong to a pulp… you're hurting me!.. please, Gertrud, have mercy… your ass feels like a thumb screw… stop it, I command you!”

And Father Pineraide grabbed Gertrud's head, turning it around so that she would face him. He thought he was going to have a heart attack at what he saw!

The sallow complexion of his housekeeper had changed to a yellowish green… her eyes were wide open, glazed, and staring into nothingness. Father Pineraide did not have to be told what had happened…

No doubt about it… she was as dead as a doornail. The priest wanted to jump out of his bed, but when he lifted himself, he took the poor woman with him. Her limp body was dangling at the end of his captive prick. They were exactly like two dogs who had finished a fucking bout.

The situation was terrible.

The priest tried at least a hundred times to free himself from his lifeless burden, but it was to no avail. His prick was united forever with the despicable behind of his lifeless housekeeper.

Cold sweat trickled down his temples…

Was he doomed to be united forever with this cadaver? And also… what would become of him, if he were ever found in this situation? It would be the scandal of the century! Nobody had surely ever seen a thing like this. What a terrible revenge of an asshole!

No, no! It just couldn't happen! Not to him!

And just as he was about to check the lifeless mass under him to make sure that she was dead, the doorbell rang.

The hairs on his neck stood on end.

The situation became more and more complicated.

What was he going to do?

It would be rather indecent to go and open the door, a dead housekeeper dangling at the end of his dong.

They rang for the second time. Now who could that be? Perhaps it was his superior, Father Duretron. That was who it must be. He suddenly remembered that he was supposed to have a conference with his superior that evening.

Father Pineraide almost lost his composure. Then, suddenly, a brilliant idea hit him…

“Hurrah,” he exclaimed, “I have been saved! Let's not wait…”

And he took the poor housekeeper in his arms, hoisted her off the bed, and dragged her into the dining room. He took the largest knife he could find, and prepared himself to slice open her behind.

With a few expert movements he made the first deep incisions, and suddenly he heard a strange hissing sound. It looked as if a big boil had burst open.

Finally, his prick was released. It was a poor, martyred dong, squeezed flat like a little sausage. But… it was free! The cut of the knife had another effect, too. Gertrud sighed deeply, opened her eyes, and regained consciousness.

“Aaah!” she exclaimed enthusiastically. “This bloodletting has saved me… I can finally breathe again!”

Though he was hilariously happy about the fortunate ending of his little adventure, the priest did not allow himself enough time to show his pleasure.

“Hurry,” he said to his housekeeper, while he began to dress himself, “put on your clothes, and open the door. Somebody rang the bell…”