The Pastor’s Wife…part II

Well, Dear Avid Reader…

    ….took me a bit longer than I thought it would, though I did do a little scribbling in between, but here is the second and final part of this little tale. And as for those people (and you know who I mean) who thought I kill off my characters too easily, well appearances can be deceptive as you will find out shortly. I did think of splitting it into three but that would be just teasing so read on and enjoy… probably???



………A large petrol tanker was overtaking her, the spray from the wheels momentarily blanking out her view through the windscreen. She felt her hands and feet go cold while her pussy burned and an unwanted and sudden orgasm pulsed outwards through her body. The wiper flicked back and the side of the tanker loomed above her seeming to fill the windscreen. She screamed.


Lilith sat in the stationary sports car her heart pounding. Her hands were shaking violently as cars flew past on the motorway sending sheets of water battering against the side of the car parked haphazardly on the hard shoulder. Tears were flowing down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe that she had managed not to end up part of a mangled wreck beneath the tanker. She could still see the frozen moment when the right headlight had actually been beneath the body of the tanker. The very same instant she’d had the most intense orgasm of her life and almost the last.

“Fuck” she breathed.

Her phone beeped loudly and she yelped. She picked up and with a still shaking thumb managed to open Damian’s reply. ‘Got to get these things right. Best to be thorough, maybe you’ll stay a little longer and we can make sure we go over everything!!! A few times just to be sure!!! X’.

Lilith’s hand stopped shaking and dropped the phone on to the passenger seat as she lifted her left foot up and across to rest beside it. Her pussy pulsed happily as her fingers still cold from the adrenalin hit slid up inside it.


Over the next month Georgia avoided the Malone place although on her various trips out of the village she seemed to drive past Damian’s residence all too often. She had tried to encourage and entice her husband in the marriage bed but she had been unable to just come out and say that she wanted sex and her inferences had fallen on deaf ears or (she wondered) just been ignored. For the first time in who knew how many years she had begun masturbating again but the lack of sensation beneath her hips proved increasingly frustrating. All the more when her pussy was obviously responding judging by the amount of juices that it produced.

She’d seen Damian about the village a few times and the two of them had simply looked at each other, neither would nod but she sensed and hoped if she was honest with herself, that they both had the same thoughts. It had been so long since she had seen a hard cock let alone felt one. Thoughts of the younger man naked and what his cock was like immediately rose up in her head as she drove past him on the narrow roads. Each and every time when she had gotten home she had found that her underwear was soaked. Twice when she had been heading to see an ailing Parishioner she had excused herself and gone to the bathroom where after an immediate inspection she had thrust two fingers in between her saturated lips.

She prayed, even though she knew it was wrong, that he was also imagining her with her legs spread and her fingers holding open her pussy lips for him to see. She hoped that his rough hands were pulling on his hard cock until his thick creamy seed jetted out of the eye. For the first time in her life she had used the internet to search for porn. A ‘naughty’ smile frequently decorated her mouth as she imagined what the church-goers would think if they knew that the computer in the Parish office was being used to show couples fucking in every imaginable position. Still even with three fingers pushed deep inside her and a young stud fucking an older woman (not dissimilar to her) from behind with an animal ferocity on the screen the actual sensation of an orgasm eluded her. Judging from the amount of cleaning up afterwards her pussy may have actually had one.

She’d also found that she liked the taste of her own juices and wondered all the more if Damian would find them as pleasant.

It was Tuesday morning and she was wheeling her way through the graveyard approaching the Lych-gate, her mind was on the previous day’s therapy when she had also felt a strand of muscle in her right thigh respond to her thoughts and Stella’s hands. She found she had been wearing a permanent grin for the past two weeks which everyone in the village, bar her husband, had spotted. The gate was opened before she reached by a short rotund man with a small goatee beard in an expensive suit who seemed vaguely familiar. “Good morning… were you after the Pastor?” she enquired.

He stood outside the church boundary holding the gate open adjacent the old wrought iron hinge, his fingers twitched slightly as he replied “No ma’am, I was just after directions, the Satnav in my car keeps on sending me around in circles.”

Georgia wheeled herself through the gap as the man allowed the gate to close behind her, “Where was it you wanted to be, Mr…?”

“D.S. Monde, I was after a Mr…” he pulled a small notebook from his pocket and flipped it open, “a Mr. Towne, Damian Towne, do you know him?”

Georgia blushed for no real reason, “Mr. Towne, yes, he… do you mind if I see some identification?”

“Of course, ma’am, a sensible precaution, you can never be too careful these days” he slipped the notebook back into the side pocket of his jacket and lifted his warrant card from within.

When the formality had been observed Georgia wheeled about on the spot and pointed down the hill to the village square, “Just head down to the war memorial in the centre of the village and take the left hand road, head up the hill for about half a mile and take the right hand fork, after a mile or so there’s a lane on the left beside a large Chestnut tree, I think the old name of the farm is still on the sign beside it, Malone” she knew that it was and that Damian hadn’t bothered to take it down or replace it from her many drives past, “and you’ll find his farmhouse at the end of it.”

“Thank you very much, ma’am, you’ve been most helpful” he turned on his heels to walk towards a white, expensive looking saloon car parked at the kerb. A crow that had been happily sitting atop the car rose up with a squawk and flew off.

Georgia couldn’t help herself as she asked “Do you mind if I ask what it is about?”

The D.S. stopped and turned stroking his beard as his dark eyes focused on the wheelchair bound woman, “I’m sorry I can’t say to be honest but rest assured it’s just one of those routine things, he’s not a drug dealer or sex-fiend or anything like that, Ma’am. Good day!”

“Good day, sir” she replied to his back and worried the corner of the nail on her little finger. The car pulled away leaving an acidic tang in its wake.

Georgia looked at the car heading up the hill and found that for some unknown reason she didn’t like it. “A sex fiend…” she whispered, “I hope he is…” she knew with absolute certainty that her pussy was dampening.


The next night returning home from having visited her sister twenty miles away she was driving through the village just before midnight when the ‘Goat’s Head’ had opened its doors spilling light out across the pavement and road. She slowed as she approached it to see Damian stepping out. She almost beeped the horn but then saw that he was with someone.

Georgia had never been jealous before, she didn’t think she’d ever had occasion too except for the rare envy she felt when seeing people walking as if it was the easiest thing in the world. This was sexual jealousy as she saw Faith follow Damian closely out of the Pub and slip her arm through his. She pulled over and watched the two people walk up the street. “Dirty fucking hussy” she heard herself say. The eighteen year old was unmistakeable with her almost shaven head and the long ‘kiss’ curl at the front. She was wearing her ‘regulation’ Doctor Martens and a short black skirt reaching half way down her thighs over tights but unusually was wearing a white blouse rather than some silly Goth/Punk band T-shirt. “Who does she think she is?” she spat. She could almost see her shiver before Damian pulled off his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

Georgia’s knuckles whitened around the steering wheel as she murmured the single word “Bitch!” She wanted to grab Faith by her stupid ‘kiss’ curl and slap her around her black lipped mouth telling her that Damian was old enough to be her father and she should take her ‘dirty cunt’ elsewhere. It didn’t occur to Georgia that the age difference between Damian and herself was almost identical to that of Faith and Damian.

The two of them turned up into the narrow alley that led up to Faith’s house and out of sight. “I saw him first” muttered Georgia petulantly as she pulled away and up to the church turning into the narrow driveway beside it almost catching the wall as she did.

She stayed in the car with the engine turned off and the lights out and finger-fucked her soaking slit in the darkness imagining she was the young girl being fucked up against the wall in the dark alley. Her chest heaved and she cried as a whisper of the orgasm her pussy was having seeped through the numbness below her hips.


Damian walked up the steep alley with the young girl’s arm through his. She was really quite sweet and it was obvious that she had developed quite the crush on him. The two of them were in a very happy mood as the Pool team had won all but one of their games against the opposing team from a village ten miles away. Si had lost one of his two games and had sulked away almost before his opponent had potted the black. The rest of the team had managed to hold back their mirth for a minute before Sam had said “He’s so mature for an eleven year old!”

He listened attentively to the teenager, talking about life in general and trying her utmost to sound worldly-wise. He figured she’d probably only been up to the big city two or three times in her life and most lightly as a child. She was telling him about her holiday in the Canary Islands the previous year and how good it had been. He admitted that he had never visited the group of islands and he noticed how her chest swelled at the idea she had been somewhere he hadn’t. She twisted against him to express another point and he felt her hard nipple press against his arm. Without looking she knew she was blushing as she hesitated in her stream of adjectives about the party life of the islands.

The thought at the back of his head tried to push its way to the fore once again; the ‘news’ that the policeman had brought the day before. He hadn’t liked the man which considering it was bad news wasn’t surprising and although it had been less than thirty hours previously and he’d only had three pints tonight he found it difficult to remember what he looked like. He had a beard (he was 75% sure) and was short or maybe average in height and dark eyes. He couldn’t even remember his name; D.I. ‘something’?

“I tell you, all the boys just wanted to get into you’re knickers!” Faith’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

Almost automatically he replied “You can hardly blame them for that!” He regretted it the moment he said it (not that it wasn’t true) but it left an opening for the young girl and he’d been trying not to take advantage. He’d actually been trying ‘not’ to fuck her.

She stopped and he couldn’t help but turn to look at her in the dim light of the alley. They were less than thirty yards from her house and her parents, “So, you want to get into my knickers too?”

“I…” Damian stammered.

He could see her teeth shine as her smile widened, “Well Mister, you can’t!”

He felt a surge of relief till she added, “… cuz’ I’m not wearing any!” Before he could react Faith had summoned all her bravado which she’d been building since she first saw him and grasped his free hand and pulled it up under her skirt. He briefly felt the warm material of her stockings and the cool touch of her upper thighs before his palm was pressed to her hot damp slit. She moaned loudly as she leant against him. The moan went up an octave as his finger, with a mind of its own slipped up between her lips. He felt her teeth grasp and chew on his t-shirt and her hot breath penetrate the thin material to the flesh of his chest.

He began to push his finger upwards and then halted. Faith was now whimpering against his chest and her hands had moved to his belt and were clumsily trying to unbuckle it. He shook his head before pulling his finger from the young woman’s pussy and reached up grasping her by the shoulders. It took a moment to realise that she was being urged backwards and for a second she thought he was suggesting that they move somewhere more private or at least darker. It was only then she realised that the large rough finger was no longer where she wanted it to be, she looked up “Wh…?”

Damian was shaking his head, his eyes had caught the gleam of her juices smeared on the shoulder of his coat that she was wearing still loosely over her shoulders. He fought the urge to lean forward and taste it. “Look girl,” and at once he regretted the use of that word as he watched a pained expression appear on her face, “Look, I’m no good for you… I’m really not.”

Although her eyes were shiny with tears a steely glint appeared as some of the previous bravado returned, “Don’t I get a say about it?”

“I’m too old for you… I’ve been a bastard; you want somebody better than that!”

He could feel her shoulders shaking beneath his hands, “Been! Past tense!” she answered cleverly but sounding all the more like an adolescent rather than an adult.

“Faith, if I went… if I did, I would be a bastard. Find someone your own age and…” his voice trailed off as he felt his age and a recollection of those days when he had been Faith’s age and the apparent arrogance of his elders and all the clichés they used to deny what seemed to be youth’s inalienable rights. The tears had finally started to flow from Faith’s eyes and the dark mascara was visible as it ran down her flushed cheeks. She pulled herself from his grip and turned away stumbling up the cobbled alleyway and around the corner that led to her house.

Damian eventually turned away and walked slowly down the alley back to the main street. The taste of Faith’s pussy was on his tongue before he realised he was sucking his finger. He looked at the damp finger, “Sweet…shame” he whispered as he thought about the resistance he had felt within her. He’d always thought that country girls tended to break their hymen with all the horse riding they did, but he knew that was a stereotype and he didn’t even know if the young woman had ever ridden a horse. A small smile played across his lips as he took another taste from his finger and the idea that he’d just felt his first ‘maidenhead’.

As he passed the Church he saw Georgia’s car parked up beside the vicarage and wondered what the older woman’s pussy tasted like.

It was only after he had walked through the village and up the hill, turning into the lane that led to his house did he realise that Faith still had his jacket. “Oh well…” he muttered up into the starlit sky.


It was five days before Georgia’s curiosity about the policeman and her ever growing desire got the better of her. She had been heading to visit another Parishioner as she drove up the hill, her left hand had eased off the accelerator as she approached the ‘Malone’ sign and she had turned the lane before she fully realised what she was doing.

She stopped the car before she was in sight of the farmhouse and was about to reverse back to the main road when a horn sounded behind her. She looked in her rear-view mirror and saw Damian sat behind the wheel of his battered green Landrover. She waved in reply to his smile and selected first gear and proceeded into the farmyard. The engine had barely stopped when Damian opened the door for her, “A pleasure to see you” he said.

“Well… I was in the neighbourhood” she replied as she swung her legs around. Damian stepped back holding the door wide unnecessarily as she reached around and lifted the wheelchair out.

“How have you been, seems to be an age since we last chatted?”

“Oh busy, busy… seems so easy to fill up one’s life and still never get anywhere”, she lifted herself into the chair and wheeled forward as he closed the door on the car and walked beside her towards the door of the farmhouse. “I see you’ve been busy, looks like you’ve got all the windows replaced.”

“Most of them, still two around the back to sort out, gotta get it weatherproof before the wet weather rolls in. You up for a tour?” he asked.

“Try and stop me” she replied with a smile.

Damian took hold of the handles of the wheelchair as they entered the front door and carefully guided Georgia into the kitchen. All the walls and ceiling were plastered and he had started installed cupboards either side of the old Aga he’d had installed although at the moment there weren’t any doors on them. Cables hung down through half a dozen holes in the ceiling but only one had a light fitting attached to it which swung gently from side to side in the light breeze coming through the open front door. A large oak table was pushed up against the opposite wall to the cupboards with four wooden chairs, none of which matched.

She commented on the larger window in the back wall and the ‘Stable’ door which allowed a lot more daylight into the room making it seem far larger than it had before. Next he showed her the only other room on the ground floor except for a small toilet positioned beside the stairs. She remembered that there had been a much smaller sitting room with two bedrooms of it when it had been owned by the Malone’s. The room only had a large sofa, with a pile of books beside it, sat in front of the hearth and a small stereo with speakers that seemed to dwarf it. “Spartan!” she commented.

“Well, I don’t do a lot of entertaining and I don’t miss the television all that much, as long as I’ve got my music and a book or two to read I’m as happy as a pig… a pig that’s really happy!” he grinned over her shoulder as she looked up at him. Her own grin widened as she noted his eyes flick down her chest to the cleavage she knew must be on display beneath the neckline of her dress from his angle.

“I believe the phrase is ‘a pig in shit’” she said as she looked back around the room. “As for entertaining, you seem to be fitting quite well into village life, I hear you’re a real bonus to the Pool team at the Goat.”

“They’re a good bunch, though I don’t see them as the ‘dinner-party’ types.”

“Not all of them, I’m sure…” she answered, “Though maybe one of the younger… female types wouldn’t be averse to an invite up the hill?” Georgia was happy with the sound of her voice; she’d been worried that it might’ve sounded ‘bitchy’.

Damian moved around the chair to face her, “You… seem well informed!”

She smiled back at him, “I couldn’t possibly reveal my sources… or the fact I saw you leaving with young Faith last week.” She watched as she saw Damian blush and raised a questioning eyebrow.

He turned away and then turned back, still red in the cheeks but smiling, “A case of misinformation, I think. Just good friends… at least I hope we still are, she may have had a bit of a crush on me.”

Georgia felt her heart rise within her chest, “I hope you let her down easy.”

“Not a hundred percent sure on that count; can you ever let the innocent down easy?” he pondered his words and then added “To be honest I prefer someone a bit more mature, young and cute can only ever take you so far!”

“I suppose” Georgia answered neutrally even though her heart was now pounding and she was short of breath. When she had regained a modicum of control she asked “So what about the rest of it?”

“Hmm…” Damian responded non-committedly as he wheeled her about to the foot of the stairs. “I guess I’m not as dirty as the last time you were here, if you don’t mind being man-handled up the stairs?”

Georgia wanted to reply that she’d beg to be man-handled but simply nodded. Carefully and without showing any sign of effort Damian slipped an arm beneath her knees and one around her back under her arms and lifted her up before pushing the wheelchair backwards with his toe. Twisting to one side he carried her up the stairs. He was extremely aware of the growing bulge in his jeans and was careful to keep her high up against his chest.

Georgia was fighting the urge to simply twist her head and kiss the younger man fully on the lips as they rose up to the landing that ran across the back of the building. He showed the two bedrooms above the kitchen first which were simply plastered and draughty due to the lack of windows, various materials and boxes were stacked against the dividing wall. all of the work seemed very professional and Georgia told him so before he walked back down the corridor past the empty shell of  future toilet and shower room and into the master bedroom. He took her straight through and into the en-suite bathroom which was fully fitted out and only required the grouting between the pristine white tiles to be finished.

“I just got hot and cold running water two days ago, I tell you that first bath… I must’ve been in it for well over two hours!”

She looked down at the enamel bath, “That’s definitely a big bath…” she stopped herself before she added that it was a bath big enough for two, she looked at a small shelf in reach of the bath and another book lying there, “Exactly how many books are you reading at the moment?”

He followed her gaze, “One or two…maybe three. Generally I prefer a shower but the pages get wet so when I do have a bath I do like to stretch out and read in comfort” he answered as he also imagined Georgia sitting astride him as the water spilled out over the roll-top edge. The two of them looked at the bath for a few moments before Damian retreated backwards through the door, “and this is the Master bedroom.”

The walls had an almost stark coat of white paint across the smoothly plastered walls and spotlights had been fully installed into the ceiling. A comfy armchair sat beside the back window looking out over the hay field with a small table beside it piled with four or five books and a small modern flexible armed lamp. A similar table sat beside the large bed also dressed similarly. As Damian slowly span her around she noted a thick drape of crimson pulled back behind the door and two metal stands, like the bases of standing lamps without a shade or bulb at the top and just a simple piece of glass. Like the door there were matching curtains either side of the windows and black out blinds within the recesses. The only other colour in the room belonged to two deep shag pile crimson rugs on either side of the bed.

Georgia looked at the bed, a fluffy light blue duvet askew atop white cotton ruffled sheets. She laughed and said “What can’t men ever make a bed when they get out of it?”

“I’m sure I don’t know” he replied.

Georgia bit her tongue before asking “Would you mind putting me down?”

“Of course not”, for a moment Damian wondered where he should place her and after a moments consideration placed her on the neater made side of the bed.

Georgia was more than happy as she leant back placing her hand on the soft duvet beside her. The two of them said nothing as they both wondered what the other was thinking, their eyes flicking to each others before rapidly breaking contact till Damian turned away and stood beside the window having to stoop a little to look out of it.

“Okay I give in, what is that for?” she asked pointing at the metal stand beside him.

He seemed slightly embarrassed as he looked at the object before replying, “It’s a little… geeky!”

Georgia placed her hand over her left breast; her fingers gave a semi-involuntary squeeze “I swear never to reveal your Geekiness!”

“I always wanted one of these since I saw one in Edinburgh when I was seven years old.” He pulled down the blind and the room dimmed considerably, she noted that however it was fitted it allowed no light through it or around it. She corrected herself as he carefully placed the stand in front of the blind and the piece of glass atop it shone.

He looked at her as she tilted her head to show her perplexity. He grinned broadly and moved to the door, closing it and pulling the heavy drape across it preventing any light seeping in from the corridor. Again the room dimmed and still Georgia didn’t understand. It was only when he moved to the opposite window and she twisted about that she saw a pattern of shadows exposed on the stark white walls. She squinted her eyelids and realised that it wasn’t shadows she was looking at but the light coming through the little piece of glass. “A lens…” she whispered and Damian nodded before pulling the opposite blind down plunging the room into absolute darkness. Not darkness, light she thought. Once again he moved the metal stand in front of the blind and the lens atop of it shone. She twisted back to see another similar projection on the opposite wall and quickly tilted her head to the side to realise that it was an image of the farmyard at the front of the house albeit inverted. “Ohhh… that’s so… cool!” she said.

She could hear the grin in Damian’s voice as he moved nearer, “I think so… always, always wanted my own Camera Obscura!” She felt his fingertips brush her bare forearm, “May I?” he asked.

“Yes” she simply answered without a clue what he was asking. His strong hand ran down her side and she felt a rash of Goose bumps rise in its wake and then both of his arms slipped beneath her and she happily allowed him to twist her about till she was lying across the bed with her feet hanging of the opposite side. His left hand had slipped beneath her head, fingers threaded through her hair as he lowered her head to hang down the opposite side. Her head was inverted and the image on the wall was now the right way up.

“Hmm…” she heard an invisible Damian murmur, she listened to his quiet footsteps and the image shook slightly and came into crystal sharp focus as he adjusted the stand slightly.

“Wow!” she gasped as she looked at her car parked in the yard, the number plate in view and easily legible.

“You ain’t seen nothing till you’ve watched a sunset…” Damian drew in a sharp breath as he saw inferences in his statement that he hadn’t meant. At least consciously he thought.

Georgia felt the bed shift and then Damian was lying beside her, their arms touching as they both gazed at the projection on the wall. She wasn’t sure but they may have lain side by side in silence for ten minutes, her thoughts flitted between the most simple optical device and the wondrous result and the heat being past between them where their bare arms touched.

Damian had gazed at this scene for hours on end once he had finished the bedroom almost a month before. Work had slowed considerably on the rest of the farmhouse and he was only just getting back up to speed. The image still held him but at this moment his mind was on the woman beside him. He’d adjusted his erection in the darkness into a comfortable position and it still remained rock solid as he wanted to just roll to his side and kiss Georgia passionately. A darker side to his psyche wondered if he could actually pull up her dress and slip his hand between her legs without her sensing it but he knew that the one thing he really wanted was for her to know and to see and to enjoy as he explored her body.

Georgia watched as a crow settled on top of her car and remembered the Policeman. She took a deep breath and spoke breaking the silence; “I hope… you had a visit the other day” she began as she sensed Damian turn his head towards her. “The Policeman asked me for directions down in the village.”

“Oh… yes…”

“I hope it wasn’t bad news… sorry if I’m prying.” She felt Damian shift and then rise from the bed. Georgia forgot the feelings of lust that had been pretty much dominating her thoughts since she had seen him behind the wheel of his Landrover. Light flooded the room as he pulled on the black-out blind and it rose with a noisy rattle. The look on his face told her what she needed to know. “I’m sorry…”

Damian felt his eyes moisten and turned back to the window, his voice was choked with emotion when he began to speak. “About as bad… my wife” Georgia heard what sounded like a small laugh, “My ex-wife… she died. Died… seems she fell down the stairs in her home…”

Georgia rolled herself over and managed with some difficulty to pull her legs around till she was sitting on the edge of the bed once again

He had been bottling up the news deep within him since the D.I. had told him. “They’re pretty sure it was a stupid accident… pretty sure” he heard Georgia gasp behind him, “Though it’s possible that… she was pushed… I had to account for my whereabouts. Account for my fucking whereabouts! A matter of routine… the divorce papers were still laying beside her bed, she hadn’t submitted them to the court for final… whatever, approval I guess…‘happens more often than you think’ he said, ‘ all the ‘I’s are dotted and the ’T’s crossed and then… Asked me if I knew her new boyfriend… if I knew where he was, would he be the sort…”

Tears were running down Georgia’s face as she listened, she cursed her useless legs preventing her from going over to Damian and wrapping her arms about him in comfort. She looked down at her lap, the shape of her thighs beneath the floral dress, the useless appendages she had been cursed with for just over eighteen years since the car accident. She actually saw her thigh twitch beneath the thin material and lifted her hand to her mouth stifling a gasp. She concentrated hard and the muscle shifted once again.

Damian began to speak again and she missed the first few words, it took an enormous effort to pull her thoughts away from her legs but she looked up at his broad back silhouetted against the window. “- had DNA. Wasn’t mine on their databases, my parents… from when they died. Familial it seems… knew we’d seen each other as he put it.” He laughed hollowly before he continued, “…seen each other, what a goddamned euphemism! Wanted to know about…fuck…so not fair…” he dropped to his knees, his head falling into his hands and his body shaking as his sobs became audible.

Georgia swore silently and grasped the wooden post at the corner of the bed. Her judgement was off as he tried to lower herself to the floor and fell forward with a loud thump landing awkwardly in a heap on the deep shag pile rug. “Fuck”, the word escaped from her lips.

Damian span around on his knees and scrambled, crawled across to her, “Are you okay?” he asked lifting her up onto her knees.

“Am I alright? Damn Damian but you’re… I’m fine…” she reached up with her hands and cupped his face, her thumbs stroking away the tears from his cheeks feeling a maternal instinct she’d accepted she would never know for real. It didn’t last long as she watched his face change and felt his hands slip down her sides to rest on her hips. One moment she had been comforting him and the next he had leaned forward and his lips had locked on hers. Her mouth opened of its own accord and her tongue welcomed his in, writhing around and over it as her eyes closed.

As suddenly as the kiss had begun it ended, Georgia was left with the memory of his mouth on hers, savouring it for a second before she opened her eyes. Damian’s head was lowered, her hands still on his cheeks and his on her hips. “I’m sorry” he mumbled.

She looked at the top of his head, his hair cropped close to his scalp, short enough to reveal a parting, maybe two inches long almost at the crown highlighting an old scar. She could see the blemish was pinker than the surrounding skin and contorted against the smoothness of his head. She shifted her hands, watching one rising to tenderly run her thumb across the wound and the other slipping beneath his chin. Simultaneously she found she wanted to mother him and fuck him, a smile played on her lips at that taboo contradiction as she gently eased his face up towards hers.

“You don’t need to apologise” she whispered as she looked into his dilated pupils, “I seem to recall that it can be a natural reaction, it is a natural reaction. It’s the simplest desire for the re-affirmation of life in the face of death.”

She watched his cheeks colour but his eyes remained locked on hers as she dropped her hands from his head to rest on his. “Tell me, do you need it?” he nodded minutely in response and she lifted his left hand to cup her own breast. His hand gently squeezed the yielding flesh through her dress and bra, her nipple hard and aching against his palm.

“Do you want it?” Another nod and she lifted his other hand beside the first and lent forward pushing her chest against them filling her lungs with the deepest of breaths.

“I need it!” she said simply and lifted her hand away to slip behind his neck.

“I want it! I’ve wanted it… you for so long!” she dropped her left hand to his crotch and squeezed the hardness she felt beneath his jeans as she pulled his head forwards and locked her lips onto his. Damian groaned as she massaged his erection, squeezing it through the thick material and pulling it up and down as his hands pressed and kneaded her breasts with greater enthusiasm with every passing second. Her heart was beating loudly within her chest and she could feel shivers ripple up through her stomach from beneath her hips, from beneath the unfeeling flesh below the tiny fracture in her spine. She knew without sensing that her sensible white cotton panties were soaked with her juices and getting wetter by the moment.

Once again the kiss was broken and she opened her eyes once again. This time Damian was animated as he dropped his hands beneath her arms and shifted back onto his feet. He lifted her up easily and gently placed her so she was once again sitting on the edge of the bed. She saw her shadow cast across him as he stepped back, the image of the hedgerow drawn across his white t-shirt as she realised the silhouette of her head was directly above the bulge in his jeans. He pulled the t-shirt off over his head revealing the stomach and torso she had seem so long ago, the garment fluttered to the floor as his eyes locked on hers. She didn’t look down as she heard him kick off his boots but her eyes did drop as his hands unbuckled his belt and quickly unzipped his fly.

“I need you! I want you!” he stated as he pushed down his jeans and boxers in a fluid movement revealing his cock as it sprang free and bounced up and down. He stepped out of his clothes to stand stark naked before her, “Do you need me? Do you want me?”

Her eyes rose to his and she answered “Yes” as her hand wrapped around his girth and pulled him forwards. Without hesitation she opened her mouth and took the swollen head between her lips. Damian moaned as his hands settled on her shoulders, trembling as they did. She squeezed his cock and cupped his sac with her other hand as he clumsily pushed the straps of her dress and bra down her arms. Memories flooded back, she tasted the saltiness of his pre-cum as her tongue pushed his foreskin back, marvelling that she had forgotten how much she had liked cock back in her youth, back before the accident.

Her hand slid down his length to wrap around the base of his cock and pull him deeper into her mouth, her tongue tracing the throbbing vein that meandered along the underside. She purred around his cock as she felt his rough hands slip inside her dress pushing the cups of her bra down and his fingers locating her hard aching nipples. She could smell her pussy above the taste of his cock and knew that she was now soaking the bed beneath her. The thought drove her on and she slid his cock deeper till her lips pressed against her thumb and forefinger. Twisting her head from side to side she sucked as hard as she could on that wonderful cock, her other hand massaging his balls firmly.

“Ohhh… fuck… oh God Georgia… I’ve wanted you for so long” Damian said from above as his fingers pressed harder into the soft, hot flesh of her bosom.

She gripped the base of his cock tightly, sucking on his length as hard as she could. She wanted to tell him how much she’d wanted his cock these past few weeks, almost from the very first moment she had seen him in the church; tell him how she had never felt such a lust for anyone ever. She wanted to look up into his eyes and tell him that she wanted his seed, needed his cum to fill her mouth, to shoot down her throat but she couldn’t, wouldn’t take her mouth from his throbbing length. She slipped her hand from his cock and forced her head forward feeling the hot bulbous head press deep into her throat. She gagged around it struggling to pull air in through her nose as she slipped her hand between his thighs and dug her fingernails into the flesh of his ass cheeks.

Come for me, you bastard her mind screamed as she forced an unintelligible sound through her mouth. She felt his strong hands painfully grip her breasts before releasing them and sliding up to grab the sides of her head. She looked up as Damian threw his head back and thrust his cock forward. Thank you, God she thought as the first thick rope of cum pumped up from his sac and down his length to erupt down her throat. She pressed her head forward, her nose buried in his wiry pubic hair as jet after jet after jet of thick, salty seed rushed down her neck.

Damian was grunting, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his heart beating wildly as his balls spasmed in Georgia’s small hand and his glans seemed to be exploding with every spurt of his seed. His orgasm seemed to go on for minutes and yet the woman kept her mouth locked around his cock, sucking his cum all the way out of his balls through his shaft. Eventually the torrent began to subside and he looked down at the ‘pillar of the community’ with his cock buried deep inside her talented mouth.

The words came unbidden from his mouth, “If the Women’s Institute could see you now?” He slowly pulled his cock out, watching the saliva streaked flesh appear. Still she sucked unwilling to give up her prize, till his strong hands pulled the glans free with a comical ‘pop’.

“They’d want some as well…they’d all want a good fucking, I bet!” she answered. Part of Damian’s mind couldn’t believe, even in the situation he found himself, that Georgia would ever think such a thing let alone say it aloud. The light and shadows from the Camera Obscura lens played across her head and his hands as he watched them seem to move with a will of their own and push her dress and bra down till it crumpled around her middle. The smile remained on her mouth as her chest rose against his hands as they explored the soft pale skin of her shoulders and down across the flushed patch atop her breasts. “They’d all love to feel your hands on their tits!”

Georgia’s eyes dropped to the young man’s cock still standing out straight from his hips, a thick drop of white seed hanging from the eye. She was amazed that he hadn’t softened at all even after she had swallowed what had seemed like the complete contents of his heavy balls. She gathered up the missed drop and held it up in front of her face as she pushed her chest outwards against the rough texture of his hands. “I want it… I need it, Damian! Give me your lovely, wonderful cock!” her eyes were completely focused on the paling liquid, rolling it about her fingertip,  as she heard herself plead to be fucked, “I want you to fill my cunt…” Her grin broadened as she imagined the fit or even possibly a heart attack her husband would suffer if he heard the filth coming from her mouth.

Damian’s hands were gentle as he lowered her onto her back and watched as she held her finger above her face. Her eyes were almost glassy, as if she’d been hypnotized as he slid his hands down her body and grasped her dress and pulled it out from beneath her. He stared down at her, only a pair of plain cotton knickers left on her body, a soaking wet pair that were almost see-through with her juices revealing a thick bush of hair beneath and even the parted lips of her pussy dissecting her mound. “You want it?” he asked softly stroking his length.

Georgia appeared to break from her trance and looked up at him as she slid her finger into her mouth. She nodded in reply.

“Tell me” he said as he rolled back the foreskin from his glans revealing the damp sensitive flesh. Goose pimple erupted on his flesh as he felt a cool breeze chill the thin-skinned head.

“I want it” she whispered her hands slipping down her body to pull and pinch on her hard nipples.

For a moment he released his cock and slipped his hands beneath Georgia’s knees and pulled her to the edge of the bed and stepping forward moaning quietly as he felt the tip of his cock press against the hot wet cotton covering her snatch. “Tell me. Tell me how much you want it, Georgia?” he demanded.

She stretched her nipples out from her breasts pulling them into fleshy pyramids, “I want it!” she said firmly, her tongue flicking out between her lips as she panted, “I need it, your cock, your wonderful cock… I need your cock inside me, Damian!”

Damian released her legs and fell apart till the tendons about her crotch stood out, he saw a faint twitch in her right thigh as he slipped his fingers beneath the edge of her soaking panties. “You need it, do you? Doesn’t the good Preacher satisfy you, Georgia? Doesn’t he fuck you?”

She tried to buck her body to press her quivering pussy against Damian’s cock, she groaned in frustration. “The useless prick doesn’t even look at me… give me your fucking cock now Damian, stick it in my cunt, for God’s sake… please… I’m begging you!” she cried.

“As you wish” he said softly and ripped her cotton knockers from her crotch.

She felt his fingers slide over her hips and watched him press forward knowing his cock was sliding easily into her pussy. Her chest rose and fell and she felt a slight pressure within her stomach as she imagined his cock fully inside her. The frustration was too much and she released her hands from her breasts, ignoring the deep red crescents left by her fingernails and reached up to Damian’s chest and grasped his nipples beneath the soft downy coating of hair.

“I said I need fucking. I don’t need love-making, I need to feel you and I need it hard and deep.” She looked into his eyes and saw them go cold as his irises shrank, she grinned up at him, “Fuck me now!” she ordered him.

She felt his fingers press into his flesh and yet couldn’t directly feel his cock as he slowly withdrew it but his imprisoned nipples stretched between her fingers as he moved backwards. He slammed forwards with a strength and energy that shifted her and the bed across the wooden floor. She felt the thrust echo up through her body and screamed “AGAIN!”

Damian slammed his hard-on again and again into Georgia’s exquisitely tight pussy. He found himself all at once trapped within his own mind feeling his body’s exertions and almost watching himself fuck this half paralysed woman with an animal ferocity he couldn’t believe. He knew that sweat was pouring down his back; he could see his hands dug deep into the flesh of her hips as he pulled her onto his rampant cock. He watched the expression on his face, a frozen rictus smile of pleasure and lust and yet the eyes seemed to him to be dead. The muscles which had tightened and flattened over the past few months were flexing and bulging with every thrust, the veins and arteries that gave them blood and oxygen to work were stood out all over his neck, arms and torso as if they couldn’t possibly supply enough energy for his body’s exertions. 

Georgia arched her back against his thrusts, her hands now encircling Damian’s wrists like manacles. Her biceps, strong from years of being confined to a wheelchair and now super-charged with adrenalin and endorphins and who knew what other chemicals that seemed to be flooding her body and brain, pulled her body and by connection her hips and most importantly of all her pussy against the rod of iron that seemed to be Damian’s cock. Every thrust echoed through her body, she wanted to watch herself be fucked, wanted to see her breasts sway and ripple in time with his wonderful erection, wanted desperately to see it pounding into her, slamming inside her. With gritted teeth and through watering eyes she saw a flash of silver arc across Damian’s chest as he thrust forwards and upwards into her. she felt her lower back lift completely clear of the bed and a wave of heat appear from beneath the border of her own strange world of body-sense.

“Ohhhh….ohhh….” she moaned before the tendons on her neck locked tightly slamming her head back into the crumpled bed covers. The wave moved up her stomach, the vaguely coherent part of her mind struggled to comprehend what she felt; it saw it as a burning infection moving impossibly fast jumping from cell to cell bringing each and everyone instantly to boiling point but it wasn’t pain she felt, she knew that.

Damian’s perception drifted further away from his body and yet remained anchored to it. He didn’t seem to care that he was looking down at the farmhouse with three cars parked in front of it; he could still see the two of them fucking within the master bedroom. The farmhouse had instantly felt like home when he had seen it a few short months ago and now couldn’t remember why; now as he took his pleasure from the Pastor’s wife it felt alien and infected. Still he drifted further, down the hill towards the village; his cock slammed into Georgia’s hot cunt as the images in his head seemed to pulse, fading as he pulled back and brightening every time he felt the head of his cock slam up against her cervix.

He shook what he took for a ethereal head, why was he here he wondered looking down at the Goat’s Head and the church opposite. The scene faded to almost black and then grew brightly. Vehicles were parked haphazardly across the road, people, local and strangers were milling about with no direction except they all seemed to be glancing up towards the church waiting for something. His final ‘vision’ was of Si sat on the kerb his head between his knees and with a pool of fresh vomit between his feet gently steaming. Sam with a face almost white stood above him, a large hand patting his friend’s shoulder with no enthusiasm as his gaze once again returned to the doors of the church as they began to open…

Still the surge tide rolled upwards beneath Georgia’s ribcage contaminating her heart and lungs, pushing up and into her breasts; the wave rising up and concentrating as it focused on her painfully erect nipples. The moment it touched and consumed the hard flesh was the moment she realised what it was and the moment she no longer was able to form a single thought. Her mind exploded as she experienced an orgasm she had never known before even when she’d had use of all her limbs.

The two lovers screamed in unison as their genitalia locked together and they both erupted within and around one another. The shadows danced and swirled over their flesh as they both gave up their minds to the sensations that joined their bodies. Almost as one they both passed out, Damian collapsing heavily on top of Georgia, his cock still twitching inside her emptying his seed into her spasming pussy.


The white car stood in front of the farmhouse, the engine idling and the tinted window beside the driver lowered. A crow sat on the hood, its beak poking about its wing looking for tasty bugs or parasites. A small fat hand appeared out of the window and flicked ash to the floor from an almost finished cigarette. The fingers holding it stained deeply from the many that had gone before.

If there had been anyone else in front of the house they would have been hard pressed to see the occupant inside the darkened interior of the car staring up at the window on the first floor. The window had the blind pulled down across it and they would have wondered what held the bearded man’s attention. He couldn’t possibly be looking at the small hole in the centre of it that was invisible from more than three or four metres away. Even if he could see it there was no way he could see what was happening beyond it.

A pair of screams echoed from the darkened room and the man didn’t flinch, didn’t even respond, almost as if he had expected the noise, had seen the authors of the cries as they approached the crescendo of their passion. The crow briefly looked towards the window before returning to its preening. If this hypothetical observer had been close enough to study the man’s face, to see his intent look on the window, what would they have thought when his eyeballs rotated 180° in opposite directions just before he looked away. The car slowly pulled away, almost silently, a sulphurous stench left by its exhaust as it headed down to the main road.

The crow only left the hood as the right front tyre dipped into a deep pothole.


Georgia woke up. She hadn’t wanted to, she couldn’t remember the dream she’d been having but it had been warm and soft and comforting. She snuggled in tighter against the strong arms that were wrapped around her and pressed her face into the chest beneath her head, listening to the strong heart beat within. It was only as she smelt the fresh sweat on the skin beneath her lips that she realised this wasn’t her husband lying beside her.

For a brief moment as her eyes flew open her own heart hammered within beneath her ribs as she comprehended where she was. Her lips returned to the smile they had borne as she had surfaced from her dream as she felt the dampness between her legs. The two of them were beneath the duvet and she assumed that Damian had moved them while she had slumbered. Her tongue flicked out from between her lips and gathered a little of her lover’s salty perspiration.

Her eyes flew open.

Yes she thought. She could feel her pussy! It was damp! Her heart was pounding once again as she realised she could definitely feel what had been lost to her for years. She was afraid to move, almost afraid to breathe as she searched her senses. The air rushing back and forth through her nose seemed incredibly loud in the pitch black room. It was only then as she shifted her left hand did she realise it was wrapped around Damian’s flaccid and sticky cock. With an effort of will to overcome her reluctance she released it, Damian moaned quietly between the rise and fall of his chest; she lifted her hand across to her thigh fighting the impulse to bring it up to her mouth and to taste the residue she knew was upon it.

She pressed a nail into the top of her hip and felt the sharpness of it digging into her flesh. She remained frozen for at least a minute before slowly shifting it downwards to the border of her previous senses.

She felt the nail against her flesh as it tracked downwards and reached to the summit of her ass as she lay on her side. She knew well that this was beyond the point when sensation began to taper off and yet she was sure she could still sense her nail completely. She wanted to wake up Damian and get him to do it as she knew that it was hard to differentiate between the feelings in her finger and that of her flesh but she was scared. More scared than she had ever been in her life.

More scared than the accident when she’d seen the looks of terror on the occupants of the other vehicle involved as they collided head on. The faces that were so close she could see the colour of their eyes. The faces that occasionally still haunted her dreams.

She gritted her teeth and held her breath as she moved her fingernail down towards her thigh. I can feel it… I can feel it she repeated in her mind like a mantra. She got as far as the top of her thigh before the ‘border’ appeared. Her jaw ached as she grinned hard, the border had definitely moved. She retraced her finger half a dozen times and still she felt it.

She decided to wake up Damian, she wasn’t going to say anything but she hoped that his hands, those lovely rough hands would wander and answer her question with certainty.

She suppressed a giggle and wrapped her hand once again around his soft cock ad slowly began to squeeze and pull upon it. Shifting her head she found his nipple in the darkness and flicked with her tongue as she felt his cock respond, slowly filling with blood and swelling within her grip. Pulling back her thumb rose to the head and she traced the edge of her nail over his eye. Damian groaned and his hands began to move. His right hand moved across, the fingers touching her stomach before rising up to trace the curve of her heaving breast; his left shifted down her back and she felt it brush across the top of her ass.

Please she thought, go lower; she tugged on his cock harder and it rapidly swelled and hardened in her grip as she bit on his nipple.

“Mmm…” he murmured as he came fully awake and rolled onto his side facing her. His hand dropped quickly down between them, slipping over hers as his fingers ran through the soft down of her pubic hair. She released his nipple and bit her own lip as she concentrated on his fingers. She gasped loudly as she felt one finger slip along her wet lips, brushing across her clit and sliding deep into her pussy.

Damian winced in pleasure and pain as Georgia’s hand tightened around his cock; he felt a flood of her juices pour out into the palm of his hand, her pussy constricted tightly around his finger as his thumb found her clit. He didn’t actually realise his jaw was hanging open in disbelief as the woman beside him orgasmed instantly with such a small amount of stimulation. He was confused remembering the hammering he had given her before they had fallen asleep in order to achieve what he had just achieved in less than thirty seconds.

Georgia struggled to take in air as her body convulsed. Her mind was lost and only came back to reality when she realised she was no longer holding Damian’s cock or lying on her side anymore but on her back. She panted and screamed as she felt his mouth form a seal over her lips and his tongue push easily inside her burning slit. “Oh my fucking God!” she cried.


After their second session the two of them didn’t fall asleep and it was while they were cuddling that Georgia eventually looked at the small gold watch on her wrist and realised the time. it was almost nine in the eight O’clock in the evening and she was easily over three hours later than she was normally. Damian helped her get dressed (except for her sensible cotton knickers which were destroyed) and carried her downstairs with a grin on his face which Georgia half-heartedly tried to slap from his features. They were lucky that they found her phone lifeless in her handbag where she had left it in the car and Damian opened her boot to retrieve her spare tyre. The insertion of a matchstick into the valve soon deflated it and provided a suitable alibi for her tardiness.

They kissed deeply yet tenderly before she drove down the lane, she paused at the main road and re-applied her lipstick for the second time in as many minutes before heading back down into the village.


Tuesday afternoons became their time and occasionally another afternoon during the week. Georgia was amazed at how easy she found it to deceive her husband and how little remorse she felt in being unfaithful. It was possible that Damian felt more guilt but it always evaporated during those Tuesday mornings as the time for Georgia’s arrival grew near.

Faith had also remained civil and even friendly towards him after his rebuff of her affections. He suspected and an occasional glance he spotted from her, in the mirror behind the bar when she didn’t know he was watching, confirmed it that she was trying to show him how mature she was and hadn’t given up hope of something more between them. Si had possibly become even colder to him maybe sensing the change of mood between them sub-consciously for Damian was sure that if he had been fully aware of it he wouldn’t have kept his thoughts to himself. Even with the mixed feelings emanating at him during matches his Pool game improved though much of his play was attributed by Sam to the ‘luck of the Devil’.

“Played for and got!” was Damian’s standard reply with a whimsical smile upon his lips. Life was good as the small village headed into autumn. The village, or at least the regulars in the pub, seemed to have accepted him with open arms. A few had even asked him for advice on investments which he had happily given although he always felt a little conflicted afterwards and could not understand why. He figured that it was just that he had put that life behind him and really didn’t want to be reminded of it or be responsible for bad advice he assumed.

The only people who seemed frosty with him, apart from the surly Si, was the Anderson’s who had taken umbrage with him for being accepted so quickly. He was pretty sure no one suspected that he was carrying on an affair with the parson’s wife.


Georgia hadn’t told Damian about her personal improvement. She hadn’t volunteered the information to anyone and the only person who had spotted anything was Stella her physiotherapist. It had happened on a Friday morning and had probably had something to do with the afternoon session from the day before with Damian. Over the past eight weeks her ‘border’ of sensation had crept lower and now she could feel his rough hands upon her flesh down to the tops of her thighs. The muscles themselves weren’t responding as well but she was more than happy that her pussy seemed to be completely responsive.

She was lying on her front on the portable massage table in her front room and Stella was bending her left knee up and down when she simply stated out of the blue, “I see we’re enjoying a healthy sex life these days!” the nurse had spotted a few tell-tale signs over the past fortnight and her curiosity had eventually won out. The marks that appeared from beneath the side of Georgia’s black lacy knickers and curved down over her ass cheek had proved too much.

Georgia’s head was pressed into the hole within the bed and she was looking down at the floor beneath, she knew she was blushing deeply, “I… I don’t know what you mean, Stella?”

The young woman stifled a giggle, “My mistake, Georgia, but there does seem to be a handprint on your bum, and a man’s if I’m any judge!”

Georgia’s embarrassment racked up another level but it was mixed of memories from twenty-four hours previously. They hadn’t even made it to the bedroom; she’d insisted that he take her in the kitchen happy for him to discover quickly that she had arrived without knickers; he bent over the table and slid his lovely cock into her soaking pussy from behind in less than a minute. She’d pulled down her dress and bra and revelled from the sensation of her slit being filled as his pounding had shifted her breasts and hard nipples back and forth over the rough wooden surface. She laughed as she suggested that they put on an exhibition at the next Women’s Institute meeting to show all the ‘proper’ ladies of the village what a ‘proper’ fucking was like.

“You’re a naughty lass” he’d replied and she’d answered she was. The thought had been in her head but she hadn’t dared say it but her prayers were answered when she felt his hand swipe across her ass cheek. Her pussy had tightened in response and she moaned loudly. That was all the encouragement he had needed and by the time his hand had struck her a fifth time she was consumed by the first of three orgasms. When he had shot his seed deep inside her quivering pussy he had left her lying on the table and walked around it so he stood in front of her head. “And Naughty lassies clean up after themselves as well!” he said as he offered his pussy slickened cock to her mouth. She’d willingly done as he’d ordered till she had licked him completely clean.

Stella watched as her client squirmed on the table, her thighs parted fractionally and her underwear visibly dampened. “You keep on fucking girl! ‘Cause it’s doing good things! You just parted your legs!”

Georgia was slightly shocked by the therapist’s coarse language but replied “Oh god yes… it’s… something’s been happening and…”

“And?” asked Stella letting Georgia’s legs rest on the table. She was trying to focus her attention on the backs of the woman’s thigh muscles but her eyes kept darting back to the wet line dissecting the black material of Georgia’s panties.

“…and he’s such a good… fuck” she answered hesitantly.

“So how far has sensation returned?” the young woman placed a fingertip at the bottom edge of her client’s ass, “Here?”

Georgia was breathing hard, “Yes.”

Stella moved her finger an inch down the back of the thigh, “Here?” she could smell the woman’s musky aroma emanating from the covered pussy before her but she also knew that she herself was getting aroused. Very unprofessional she thought silently.

“Yes…” answered Georgia and another tremble ran down her thigh.

Stella moved her finger a further two inches down over the soft flesh as her eyes watched the damp patch spread beneath Georgia’s panties. She licked her lips and wondered what it tasted like, she had been nineteen and in college the one and only time she had ever been with a woman and although she had enjoyed it she had missed cock too much. She’d been ‘proud’ that she’d been open-minded enough to try and had figured it was just a one-off but as she watched the pussy before her spread a little beneath the restricting material she was seriously considered taking another ‘dip’. “Here?”

“Starting to fade…” Georgia answered with a touch of sadness.

Stella bit her lip and moved her hand around the thigh to the inside and placed two fingers on both thighs simultaneously, “And here?”

“A little more sense but not much” Georgia’s flesh was tingling as she felt the therapist’s fingers, normally firm but now gliding over her skin with an unbearable lightness move higher up between her thighs. She’d never considered a woman’s touch before and had actually been party to conversations with her peers that had in actual fact placed the ‘collapse of modern society’ firmly at the door of loose morals and the sexual flexibility of today’s youth. Her heart seemed to be beating loudly within her chest and she was doing her utmost to instruct her useless legs to spread further apart. With absolute certainty she knew her pussy was moistening rapidly and that the younger woman had a clear view of the state of her knickers.

Stella could see her patient’s thigh muscles quivering minutely and could feel her own professionalism ebbing away as her own pussy dampened within the loose trousers beneath the white smock that she wore. She edged her fingers up till they came together touching the insides of Georgia’s thighs just two inches short of the black panties that held her attention. Droplets of the older woman’s juices were now forming on the outside of the underwear and she licked her lips wondering what it tasted like. Her right hand, resting beside Georgia’s leg trembled full of a desire to slip inside her underwear and tease her own clit.

“It looks like whoever is satisfying your sexual needs is managing to get your blood flowing… along with your pussy!” Georgia moaned and further tiny tremors rippled down the backs of her thighs. Stella took a deep breath before continuing, “I suppose the question is how much you need satisfying at the moment? You obviously got a good fucking yesterday but would you like to feel my fingers inside you now?” A smile appeared on the young woman’s face as she felt Georgia’s hand drop from the bed and grasp her thigh just a few inches below her crotch. She remembered the words of her college tutor “Paraplegics benefit from, as it were, a proper fucking, they often need it to reach orgasm and it’s a very good form of cardio-vascular exercise and anything that gets the blood pumping is a good thing… not that I’m suggesting any of you use it as a form of therapy with your patients!” Stella reckoned there were always exceptions that proved the rule.

Stella took another deep breath, “If you want me to bring you off you’re gonna have to open your legs!” Please, please spread them she thought as her spare hand began undoing the lower buttons of her smock.

She heard Georgia whisper through the hole in the table and then repeat her plea louder, “I can’t…but I want it… I need it… please Stella, please…” the woman’s hand grasped the therapist’s thigh tighter edging upwards slowly.

The young woman resolutely kept her fingers stationary between the older woman’s thighs but her eyes moved away from the soaking material of the black knickers and to the edge of the handprint visible. She had undone half the buttons of her smock with her right hand, exposing the small diamond stud in her navel and had been about to slip her own fingers into her now wet pussy when she changed her mind. She lifted her finger to the pink mark on the woman’s behind and traced the outline of the finger marks appearing from beneath the lacy trim. “And when you didn’t do what your lover said?” she offered.

Georgia didn’t care that the therapist had inferred the truth that her lover wasn’t her husband and she knew with certainty that Stella didn’t care either especially after suggesting that she would satisfy her clear and present needs. Her nipples ached as she pressed her chest harder into the frustratingly soft surface of the massage bed. She lifted her head from the hole in the bed for the first time since the conversation had turned and looked up into the pretty blue eyes of the therapist. “He spanked me” she said clearly as she raised her hand and cupped the younger woman’s mound through her trousers.

Stella gasped as she felt the heel of Georgia’s hand press firmly against her clit beneath her clothing. I’ve gone too far to back out now she thought as she felt her pussy heat up. “…well… do as your told then!” she raised her hand and brought it down sharply on the soft flesh of the ass before her directly onto the day old hand print. The ripples from the blow radiated out and down the adjacent thigh. The leg twitched and her fingers slipped half an inch higher.

Georgia yelped and squeezed the mound in her palm in response. I’m such a slut she thought and shifted her hand to start untying the string threaded through the waist of Stella’s trousers.

“Open your thighs” demanded the therapist. Another crack resounded as the strong hand came down on Georgia’s left cheek eliciting another yelp and a further spreading of her unwilling legs.

“…Yes…yes Stella” moaned Georgia.

Stella wasn’t quite as good as her word. When Georgia’s hand had pulled her soaking knickers down and a slim finger had been inserted into her own throbbing slit her determination had evaporated. Her fingers had still been an inch away from the older woman’s pussy and the normally useless feet had moved apart considerably but not enough when she had simply shoved her fingers into the crotch of the soaking underwear and pushed the material up inside the older woman. Stella didn’t need to be psychic to know that Georgai had orgasmed almost instantly when her knuckles had pressed against her outer lips. Her own had followed within less than a minute.

The dam had been broken and it had only taken a few minutes before they were both naked and had moved to the couch kissing deeply and with fingers inside each other and thumbs working their clits.

By the time Stella had cancelled her afternoon appointment she had finally tasted Georgia’s juices directly and had wondered why she had never repeated her one-time dalliance at college when pussy could taste so sweet. Georgia had returned the favour, timidly at first but as Stella had orgasmed and squirted into her mouth as she sat astride the older woman’s face on the rug she had become more and more enthusiastic and Stella had experienced her first ever truly multiple orgasm.


Stella had only just left, helping Georgia into the shower and reluctantly leaving when the Pastor arrived back. She imagined their cars had passed one another near to Damian’s lane. The Pastor was in a foul mood as he strutted about the bathroom but most of it washed over her just like the water from the shower head. It had seemed that fortune had been on her side as the Pastor would have been back twenty minutes earlier except for some ‘fool’ (Georgia was sure that he had wanted to use the words ‘fat fuck’) had only just missed him in their big flash car and forced him to drive into the hedge where the offside tyre had been punctured.

She found herself wanting to tell the ’Cunt’ to shut up as she washed the suds out of her hair and felt the juices still slipping from her own ‘hot cunt’. She concentrated on Stella and wondered if she’d like to meet Damian. Damian she was sure would be more than happy to meet Stella. Pussy really does taste quite nice she thought as she ignored the Pastor’s moaning and dreamt about Damian’s cock being coated in Stella’s honey.

She had to suppress the smile that wanted to beam out from her face as her husband continued to rant in a way that was almost unchristian. A thought popped into her head that seemed to appear from nowhere but should have been present from the moment when she had fallen to the floor in Damian’s bedroom and her attempt at comforting a grieving man had twisted into an intimate clinch. A thought that should have been present from the very first moment when she had watched him dip his head into the water barrel on the first day she had visited him at the farmhouse.

She knew she had to visit the local market town the next morning. She wasn’t sure how she felt about what she already knew.


Stella had driven away in something of a daze and had only come to her senses as she spotted Georgia’s husband as she left the village. She was still wondering what had ‘come over her’ when she was almost home some forty minutes later. Not that she didn’t have every intention of repeating the experience the following Monday. Georgia’s muscular control and tactile sensations were improving after all! She hoped her boyfriend was home as she needed a ‘proper’ fucking, he didn’t need to know what had got her so hot; he could just enjoy the fringe benefits.


Damian had walked down to the village on Saturday afternoon after discovering that he was out of milk. A quick pint in the Goat’s Head beckoned him, flirting harmlessly with Suki in the almost empty Pub and then a visit to the general store. He stepped outside on to the main street and looked up at the thunder cloud rapidly darkening above. He was going to get soaked in the downpour if he headed up the hill now; he looked across at the church and figured soaking in the calming atmosphere would be better than soaking up the rain.

It was only the second time he had stepped inside the church since moving into the Malone place, he already noted that Georgia’s car wasn’t outside the Pastor’s house. It was probably just as well as it had been increasingly difficult to keep his hands off her and his cock out of her.

He’d been inside less than five minutes before the rain began to drum loudly on the aged roof. The sound was still oddly serene as he walked along the side of the church studying the small brass plaques that told of gifts and donations made to the parish by better-off families down through the years.

A half hour later and he was engrossed by a worn and faded inscription that was the oldest by far that he had seen even though he couldn’t make out the date but could see that the Riddle family had donated the princely sum of ten shillings to the church. “Hello stranger” said a familiar voice from behind him.

He turned and saw a very damp looking Georgia sitting in her wheel chair just five feet away. Instinctively he looked about for her husband before replying, “Looks like you got caught in the rain” his eyes taking in the thin wet blouse and the bra beneath stuck to her chest.

She bore a broad smile across her face though Damain noted a contradictory look in her eyes. “This thing sometimes prevents a mad dash through a downpour unfortunately!” she said indicating her wheelchair, “I was hoping to catch you but I wasn’t expecting to find you in here.”

“Just sheltering from the rain, no chance of religion worming it’s way into this soul” he replied as he stepped towards her feeling his cock stiffen beneath his jeans as his eyes deliberately dropped to the visible nipples beneath the soaked material.

The glance wasn’t lost on Georgia and she felt her already hard nipples ache as if the young man’s teeth were already upon them. She condemned herself silently as her pussy responded without instruction. “Eyes up, boy, we’re in a church!” she admonished him as she looked about double checking that they were truly alone. Her slit ignored her words and she felt another pair of knickers become soaked in the presence of her lover. “We need to talk.”

Damian sat down on the end of a pew beside her, “Sound’s serious?”

Georgia stared into his dark eyes and struggled not to think of his cock and the effect it had on her whether it was near or far. Her grin broadened as she thought about her first lesbian experience from the day before and the knowledge that this young man’s cock had played no small part in making it happen. There was however more pressing news although she wanted to nothing more than to suggest that her next therapy session take place beneath the shadows of Damian’s Camera Obscura. She dropped her eyes and immediately realised she was staring at the ‘guilty’ crotch and raised her head quickly. “I’m…” her voice faltered.

Damian took her wrestling hands from her lap and calmed them within his won strong ones, “Take your time.”

“What are we?” she blurted out before she could stop herself.

She watched him tilt his head and ponder his answer before answering “Confused would be the honest answer, Georgia. But, if it was just the two of us… we’d be a couple… lovers… not giving a damn about what anyone else thought… but we’re not.”

Tears welled up in the older woman’s eyes and words stuck in her throat. Three little words that seemed so big there would never be a chance that they could be whispered let alone spoken loudly and clearly.

One of Damian’s hands left hers and his rough fingertips touched her chin and raised it till they were once again gazing into each others eyes, “I love you, Georgia!”

The tears cascaded down her cheeks and still her words were choked by her emotions, his smile made her beating heart swell within her chest and his lips, as they softly caressed hers almost made it stop. As their lips parted the drumming of the rain on the roof stopped and the church became silent as she answered “I love you, too.”

The stained glass windows darkened and Damian imagined another thunderhead had moved over the sleep village as the two of them glanced at the outside world through the multi-coloured panes of glass. When his gaze returned to Georgia he found his hands beneath her arms and he lifted her easily from the wheelchair to sit astride his lap. They kissed once again, Georgia’s reluctance due to their location fading away with every second their lips caressed each other. She slipped her arms beneath Damian’s and forced her body downwards revelling in the sensation of his swelling cock beneath her.

The fact that she was sitting on her lover’s lap in a church, her husband’s church, was no longer curbing her desire but now amplifying it. She was reaching down between them as their tongues began wrestling when she stopped and broke their mouths apart. “I’ve…” again she hesitated.

Damian looked into her eyes, “Tell me” he said simply.

“I’m…” she dropped her head looking down between them slightly surprised to see the ends of her fingers inside Damian’s belt, “I’m pregnant!” she finally said.

She felt his mouth move to her ear and heard him whisper a single word, “Good.” His hands moved to his belt and in moments his belt was undone and the zipper pulled down releasing his cock which sprang up into her own hand.

She felt her pussy tremble and her juices flow out of it as those calloused fingers slipped beneath her and pulled her knickers to one side, her own hand squeezing his erection tightly pushed it downwards as he lifted her up and she centred his glans against her hot lips. He simply let her drop and his hard cock filled her instantly. She threw her head back and let out a high pitched sigh which rebounded off the thick stone walls; the echo reverberated back to them and the sound intensified as his strong hands lifted her up again and again letting her drop back down each time.

Damian’s teeth were clenched tightly together as he felt Georgia’s juices flow out of her pussy and drench his balls. His fingers pressed into her hips as he drove her down onto his cock, raising his hips to meet her. The sound coming from Georgia’s mouth rose up an octave and the echo intensified, increasing every time his cock slammed up against her cervix. He thought of Jericho and the walls came tumbling down.



The sun shone powerfully onto his shoulders as he and his favourite cousin sat atop the bales stacked high on the trailer as it bounced up the old lane and came to rest outside his uncle’s farmhouse. They were almost on a level with the shingled roof and could see the spire of the church over the brow of the hill, the tiny weather cock swinging lazily in the summer breeze. His young skin itched where it had been scratched by the hay and it took three calls from his father before the two of them conceded to descend carefully down from their perch so the bales could be placed in the barn.

This was how summers were meant to be!


The incessant swish of windscreen wipers as they battled with the pouring rain; trees flashing by in the darkness with his forehead pressed against the cold glass of the window. The wheel of car hitting the buried Cats Eyes as they swooped around the curves; his mother and father silent after the terse words from moments before.

He still couldn’t remember what it was they had been arguing about in the front of the car, unaware that their only child wasn’t fast asleep wrapped in a travelling blanket behind them.

He did remember the interior of the car brightening rapidly and the audible sound of both his parents inhaling sharply and simultaneously.

Then there was the sound, the scream of tearing metal…


He remembered the stark harshness of the fluorescent lighting in the hospital and the soft, watery look in the nurses’ eyes…


The lady held his hand as she led him into his own and now alien bedroom to fill a plastic carrier bag with those things he wanted to take with him. Her hard eyes had softened as he left with the bag still empty hanging uselessly from his small hand.


The ‘Home’ had been cold even though the summer had been hot. All the adults had soft voices that seemed empty and all the children had eyes that were full of bitterness or hatred or apathy.


Then she came. She had come to see him specifically; no one else, not the ones he had begun to understand had been abused or beaten but him. She’d apologised again and again but never said what for. All he could wonder was why her chair had wheels; he wanted a chair with wheels; why couldn’t he have a chair with wheels…


He couldn’t remember how long he had stayed in the ‘Home’, it had been at least one Christmas with second-hand presents and a lack-lustre Christmas tree but eventually the Towne’s had arrived and taken him away. It had taken him five years to love the Towne’s as he had somehow known that by loving them he would love the couple from the car less. They were good people and Mrs. Towne had loved him unconditionally from that first afternoon. He and Mr. Towne had treated each other with politeness and only now it seemed that as he had grown to love his adopted father did he grow to love him.


A life flashed before him, a life of school and friends, of university and lovers, of work and assholes. He had a natural ability with numbers that ‘Dad’ and ‘Mom’, Mr. and Mrs Towne didn’t possess but he did and it gave him a natural edge when he began dealing in the City. The numbers flowed across the screens in front of him and he saw the gaps that other people didn’t see and he saw the ways to use those ‘holes’ to add more numbers to the all the ones he already possessed within his own bank accounts. Tough luck if those self-same numbers had to be extracted from the accounts of the not-so-wary and the naive and the trusting.


More deals and more aggressive take-overs and more vicious stripping of assets. And lots more ‘zero’s’ sitting in his off-shore accounts and another visit to the harsh fluorescent lights of a hospital.

A thin, ashen faced ‘Dad’ lay in the crisp white sheets and he couldn’t say sorry. Mr Towne wasn’t expecting him to apologise but then again he didn’t know that his investment, his life-savings had disappeared because his son had pressed a few keys on a laptop and the reliable and lucrative Pension Fund had suddenly become unreliable and worthless.


Alone once again, arm in arm with a so-called wife and surrounded by so-called friends and pseudo-relatives beside a six foot deep hole in the ground where a ‘fake’ father was being laid to rest beside his ‘fake’ father.

The sky didn’t even have the decency to look sad on that bright spring day.


The engine on the old Landrover shudders to a stop as he looked about the farmyard and long-forgotten memories pushed up through the layers of his mind and for the first time in so many years the world seemed real. He looked through the cracked glass of the driver’s window at the heavy padlock securing a frail door on the falling-down farmhouse where once he had been happy and loved.

He pulled the bundle of keys from his pocket as he approached the front door, pausing to watch a crow settle on the water barrel siting at the corner of the house.

It had been almost a year since he had buried his adopted father and as he stood looking at the crow he felt his guilt soften a little and wondered if he could find peace in the broken down old house.



Georgia’s moan continued to reverberate around the stone walls of the church as he grasped her hips tightly and thrust his cock up inside her feeling her juices flow out over his balls. He looked at the tendons standing out on her neck, the blood visibly pumping through the swollen veins standing out against her pale skin and he remembered her much younger with eyes puffy from tears as she sat beside his bed in her first wheelchair.

Her neck looked so fragile, just like her lower spine had been and just like the lives of his parents had been and imagined how easy it would be to grasp it in his strong hands and snap it like a twig.

“A life for a life… or two?” he murmured as he felt his sac tighten.

She didn’t hear him as she was engulfed by her own orgasm, her pussy clenched hard around his cock and pushed it out as he lifted her clear off it. Still the intense sensations radiated out through her body as she dropped her head forward and looked at his face. Her vision was blurred and yet she couldn’t understand the expression that was written across her lover’s face as he slipped from beneath her and dropped her down onto the pew. She blinked rapidly, the cold smooth surface of the old wood beneath her ass becoming so slippery with her juices she had to reach out to the pew in front of her to steady herself. Still the look remained on his face as he stood before her with his wonderful cock, glistening with her cream and pumped it hard with his fist.

Almost instinctively she opened her mouth as the thick wads of seed shot out from the tip. Only the first heavy drop landed in her willing mouth, the rest splattered on her face and in her hair and down her chest as he aimed his cock, his weapon she thought as the stark unfeeling expression remained on his face. A flood of her juices squirted out of her pussy, she could feel it cooling rapidly against the worn oak boards beneath her; could feel it almost as her as the inside of her left knee, further than ever before.

Still the harsh look remained on Damian’s face and Georgia’s confusion was overwhelming her dual feelings of euphoria from her orgasm and the increasing return of sensation from forgotten flesh. “Wha…” she began and suddenly stopped in fear of the answer he would give.

She had never seen his eyes so dark and so cold and watched with an increasing numbness as he pulled up his jeans and boxers and put away his softening cock. Once he had done up his belt he leant towards her, his hand reaching out. A flash of a smile crossed his lips as she flinched but his big strong hand simply rested on her shoulder as he brought his mouth close to her ear.

“Can you feel the life in your belly? The life I’ve given you. Do you know what it’s like to have it taken away…?” Georgia was holding her breath and where she had felt so alive just moment’s before she felt only a freezing numbness. “Twenty years ago… to the day… you took my life. Out having fun, were you? A couple of drinks… no harm in it, is there? Except if you’re in the car coming the other way, of course… as I was… and as my parent’s were…”

The blood was pounding in Georgia’s ears but she could still hear his quiet whisper and she was paralysed as if her spine had been fractured just below her neck. She felt his fingers bunch into a fist and the heard the rip of her dress as he tore it from her shoulder. “Did you give your dead boyfriend a feel of your tits that night or were you just a tease?” his hand dropped between her legs and Georgia couldn’t feel it but heard as her soaking knickers were ripped roughly from her. She could feel bile rising in her throat as she watched the remains of the underwear balled in his fist and held in front of her face, “I bet you never even let him have a taste!”

Damian stood upright and threw the remains across the pews in the direction of the altar. He looked down at her with complete contempt, “Do you remember their names? Those people from that night…Jimmy and Patricia Malone? And their little boy…James Damian Malone?” he looked at the wheelchair standing beside him and gave it a kick sending it up the tiled pew to hit the steps of the altar and topple over before striding towards the door.

Georgia threw up.


She had no idea how long it had taken her to come to her senses. It may have been minutes or maybe hours before she looked at the state she was in and where she was. Her mind was still reeling as the image of Damian and little Jimmy lying in his hospitable bed so long ago vied for dominance within her mind’s eye. She tried to pull up her dress but it was torn beyond repair even a makeshift one when she looked at her wheelchair lying on its side to the right of the altar.

She could feel the crusty remains of dried tears on her cheeks as she fell from the end of the pew onto the cold granite slabs of the aisle. By the time she was within six feet of the chair her knees were scraped and bleeding and the tears had begun to flow again. She took a deep breath and was about to resume crawling when she heard the heavy door to the church open and footsteps echo through the interior.


D.S. Monde sat in his car and had lit a strongly flavoured cigarette as he’d watched Damain step through the Lych-gate and stride purposefully up the street in the direction of his house where the policeman knew an estate agent and a willing couple of home-buyers would arrive shortly.

He dropped the finished stub into the gutter below the open car window as he watched the Pastor walk up to the church and disappear inside. The smile remained on his lips as first he heard the shouts and then the screams. “I love it when a plan comes together” he said as he wound up the window and drove away.


The deal was done. Even though he didn’t particularly like the couple who were buying the farmhouse he was more than happy to take their money. He stood on the brow of the hill and looked down at the village below. The main street was filled with vehicles, at least half of them recognisable as police cars and one single, ominous dark van. Uniformed men were possibly rolling out tape as they tried to keep the villagers back from the church. He uttered one word, “curious…” even though he didn’t mean it before he turned around and strode across the field and climbed into the battered Landrover.

He paused at the end of the lane and looked for oncoming traffic. There was none in view but the young girl from the village, Faith was her name, was just walking into view wheeling an old bicycle up the steepest part of the hill. He wound down the window as she approached.

“Hey Damian” she said as she leant against the window.

Time to get back to proper work he thought as he dropped his eyes to look down her top and into her cleavage, “So, Faith, ever fancied visiting the big city?”

The Landrover turned away from the village in a dark cloud of exhaust leaving an old bicycle lying at the foot of the lane beside an old sign which had fallen down and was half buried in the hedgerow.

 The End


     …maybe I should apologise, killing off a paraplegic, a tad unfair? A little too far? Well, you can’t say that I’m not an equal opportunities literary serial killer! Can you tell I just made that up? Maybe it was bit of  cliche taking someone and raising their hopes only to do them in with the nearest handy heavy object, say a chalice? Men of the cloth, so tightly wound!!! LoL

Anyhow’s I hoped you enjoyed and I can tell you there is more to this series, Hell! the Devil has all the best tunes after all. Actually… come on lean in I can only whisper this…(looks about)… there already are some previous stories that are within “Shadows“, ‘The Box’ has been altered accordingly and as and when further instalments come out so one might find others have moved into join them which handily allows me to re-use some of my previous characters…

        …anyhow Ihope you enjoyed!!!


P.S. My thanks to Der Erzahler’s Erotic Tales for borrowing from his selection of extremely erotic images, a couple of which I changed a little bit!

~ by ftfagos on May 10, 2012.

One Response to “The Pastor’s Wife…part II”

  1. I’ve been wondering did anyone like the picture of the Devil’s car? My version of a pale horse! In particular did anyone notice the number plate???


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