Bishop George twitched as a brief tantalising glimpse of something forbidden was revealed to him.
But the panties...those glorious red lace panties! What had she done with them?
"Well..." he began, a little hoarsely, "you've obviously had quite the effect on him."
"It's like history repeating itself," he added.
"What do mean by that?"
"Oh...nothing." Bishop George muttered, sipping his tea. "You just reminded me of someone I once knew, that's all."
Jenna thought carefully for a moment, trying to read the bishop. So far, his self-control was admirable. Had she finally met her match with this man of the church? Behind that stern exterior, she sensed there was a man in need of some attention. She didn't know how old Bishop George was, but at a guess he was in his sixties. He was the oldest man she had encountered so far.
Still, as the old saying goes - many a fine tune played on an old fiddle!
"What do you think of St Michael's, then? You must know all kinds of churches." Jenna continued, trying to think up idle conversation.
He finished his tea. "Some churches are drawn to controversy in the same manner that flies are drawn to shite. I'm pleased to say that St Michael's has resisted that."
"Right. I see. I'm surprised you haven't cut yourself with that tongue of yours, Bishop George!"
He reclined slightly in the armchair. "I have drawn blood on several occasions. I speak my mind, Jenna. I can't stand these churches who abandon their core purpose in an attempt to woo those who have no interest in ever following the teachings of God. I'm talking about those "trendy vicars" who install helter-skelters, massive art installations and the like in ancient churches and cathedrals. A church is a place of worship, not bloody Alton Towers..."
"Oh yes. You're right," Jenna said. "I'd better make sure I keep on your good side, then!"
Bishop George gave a slight grin. "And tell me, how would you keep on my good side, Jenna?"
"I prefer to show rather than tell!" He straightened in his chair as she walked over to him. "You seem rather tense, Bishop. I think you need to relax!" Jenna chuckled and sat in his lap. Initially shocked, Bishop George soon slid his arms around her.
"There you are. Beginning to enjoy yourself?" She said, playfully running a finger around his clerical collar.
"It's been a long time since I enjoyed myself like this," he murmured, planting kisses along her neck and jawline. One of his hands slid round and inside her low-cut dress. Bishop George cupped a breast, gently squeezing it, pinching the nipple. Jenna moaned at his sensual fondling. A powerful desire deep within the bishop began to stir also. The ease at which this young woman had penetrated his unforgiving exterior, stunned him. He was pleasantly surprised at how painfully hard he quickly became, and his prick ached to be freed from his clothing. Jenna's lips met his and their kisses grew ever more hot and demanding. Her hand slid down and brushed his crotch. There was no hiding the bulge of his arousal.
"Ooh Bishop!" Jenna cooed, rubbing it. He let out a moan. She unbuttoned the lower buttons of his shirt and started on his belt. Resigned to his fate, Bishop George happily reclined in the chair.
And then Jenna got a surprise as she unzipped his trousers. "Oh my. What pretty panties." She never imagined the bishop would be wearing women's underwear.
Bishop George froze, as his secret was revealed. "Damn." He'd forgotten he'd put those on. "It's a fetish," he prattled nervously. "I...I can't help it. It's a need I have."
"Hey, nothing wrong with that, Bishop." Jenna replied. "I love wearing silk ones too. But right now, I'm more interested in what's inside your panties..."
She pulled them down, wrapped her fingers around his prick and gently stroked it. For an older guy, the bishop certainly had a nice-looking cock. "Mmm. How tempting!"
"It's been quite a while since it last saw any use."
