Susie Sells Papers!

Susanna Cox was sitting at her computer when her friend Stephanie Beasley came over. "Sorry, I didn't get back to you last night, Susie. Had a night out with an old friend from High School."

Susie swivelled around and looked at her friend. "There's something different about you today, Steffie."

"Different?" A worried look crossed her face. There were a couple of unusual red marks passing from the back of her neck that ran down beneath her green sweater. Her hands trembled and she almost spilled her coffee.

"Yes, it's like we're in the Sixties again."

"Huh?"

"You're not wearing a bra today." Steffie looked down quickly and then back at her friend. Her breasts were hanging much lower than usual, and Susie noticed red marks around her wrists as well.

"Well, sometimes I like the freedom," she whispered. "The straps cut into my shoulders, and I don't wear it on the weekends. Just too painful today, so I hoped nobody'd notice if I. . .went without."

"You should get them reduced if they're hard on your back."

"No, I couldn't do that." She took a gulp from her lukewarm coffee, and it steadied her a little. "What can I help you with?"

Susie beckoned her heavy friend forward, and said: "I need a cover story for tonight."

"Cover story?"

"Yes. I've got to head out to a parish for a night meeting, but the boss doesn't want me going out to work after dark."

Steffie looked around. "But Jeff'd be happy you were meeting pastors anytime of day or night."

"I meant the boss at home. The kids are all farmed out, but himself will get snarky if I'm out and he doesn't know where I am. If I told him I was at your house helping cut out a dress, you'd back me up, wouldn't you?"

"Sure, Susie, anytime. How late will you be out?"

"Till 10 at least."

"Okay. I'll have a line for him if he calls."

"Thanks."

Susie's first call was in the afternoon, with Fr. Harold Beteman close to the chancery. He answered the door himself, an average, thin man in his early sixties with white hair and a deep tan. After introducing her to her secretary, he took her on a tour of his collectibles from his days as a Missionary in Bolivia. After 35 years in South America, he returned to the States and went through a special re-entry program before. Susie winced as he brought out a picture book as they sat on the couch in his living room.

"When's he going to get down to the sex?" she thought. "I've heard of men who hire prostitutes just to talk to them, but I can get stories like this from my uncle Mike."

When he opened the book up, the pictures of his village in Bolivia had a simple theme. There was one girl in a faded picture: average in every way in an embroidered low-cut, white blouse, elegant skirt and bare feet, whose dimpled smile electrified the viewer. It was a progression of her life, holidays and Sunday, at play and a work, raising three children to adulthood and dandling grandchildren from her knee.

"This woman was special to you?" Tears came to the corners of the old man's eyes. "Your housekeeper."

"Yes, she was." His voice held a strong Latin accent, even though he was raised in the U.S.

There was a pause as Susie scrutinized the pictures. "She was more than your housekeeper, wasn't she?" He daubed his face with a handkerchief, nodding. "Tell me about her."

"I met her just after I got there. Bolivia's priests usually take a consort, someone to live with them, and well, she ended up with me. It was a dream: hard work almost every day of the week, but it was simple and rewarded and blessed. When the bishop came, she went away with the kids until he left. Almost 35 years together, and then, she got sick. It was a gall bladder problem, something that gets fixed easily here, but we lived a long way from a hospital and by the time we got her there, it was too late. I tried to stay on, my daughter stayed with me and my people were so kind. But I just couldn't stay in the wonderful place without her."

The grandfather clock ticked in the corner. After a pause, he continued: "I came back home, and tried to live here like a regular priest. It's so different, and I've struggled with life here, even though I'm from here. I miss my family, my kids and my grandkids. When I retire, I'm going back."

Susie laid her hand on his. "You should. Being around family will help."

"In the meantime, I miss the simplest things. I learned to use the Internet, but, but, seeing a real pair of breasts, feeling soft hands on my balls. . ."

"I understand," Susie said. Slowly she stood before him, and undid each button of her blue blouse. Sliding it to the floor, she reached around and unhooked her bra, pulling the straps over her shoulders, and replacing the cups with her arm momentarily . She reached out with her hand and invited him to pull her arm away, revealing perfect, teardrop breasts.

His fingers traced her orbs reverently, skimming close to the areolae and following every curve until he caressed them with his palms. Her breath grew faster as he worshiped her flesh. It was a full fifteen minutes before he tentatively leaned forward to nurse her pink nipples.

Just when she thought she would burst, she pushed him away and lowered herself to kneel before him. She unbuttoned his fly, one at a time, and released his serpent, fondling his spongy balls. Her tongue took it time; he was ready to erupt as his cock appeared, and she wanted him to savor the experience. A measured pace intensified his arousal, and she orgasmed as he filled her hungry mouth.

The dinner hour was barely contained bedlam and all the little ships sailed for their ports of call by 7:00PM. Susie pretended to call Steffie in earshot of the master of the house to announce her departure and ask if she wanted anything. He was indifferent to her departure from the house, ensconced in his easy chair in front of a baseball game.

Fr. Marcus Frazier lived in a posh part of the city. A gate protected his property from ordinary people; the only heir of a rich family, he pastored a large parish closeby, and lived at his ancestral home with the Bishop's permission. A handsome man with blond hair, blue eyes and sculpted body, he greeted her at the door with a martini, and led her to his study. They chatted easily in the study, smoking Havana cigars. Marcus had traveled the world, and delighted her with stories of his journeys. The martinis were followed by another round, and they took them poolside when they finished their cigars. The full moon crested the horizon and was sailing high into the night.

After a while, he touched her hand and said: "You're most welcome here, Ms. Cox, I have been longing to meet you for a week."

"Really?"

"Really. Word of your, good works, has been passing quietly around, and I'm looking forward to our time together. Tonight is special."

"How so?"

"Tonight, there is a total eclipse of the moon. Magic will be in the air this midsummer's evening, even though we're not at the equinox yet. Perhaps warlocks are mating with witches tonight."

"Sounds like fun."

They sat and sipped their drinks, watching the stars go by. The weather was still warm and the occasional breeze played silky on their skin. He gulped the last of his drink, and shed his clerics, standing naked to show off his perfect physique before diving into the pool. It was illuminated by underwater lights, and he moved through the water with a dolphin's grace. She stood up and shed her clothes, following him into the delicious water.

They swam and played like children, naked in the moonlight, splashing and dunking each other. He dove under the surface, and tickled her navel with his tongue; playfully, she tried to hold his head under until he couldn't hold his breath any longer. She ducked under and nipped as his testicles; he had committed enough names to do anything he liked with her, and she was anxious as she broke the surface, giving him an urgent, open mouthed kiss that almost took his breath away.

It was time to leave the pool as a shadow crept over the face of the moon. She left with him close behind, he gathered her into his arms and carried her over to the couch where he laid her down on her back. Laying beside her, he kissed from her mouth down to her right nipple, while his right hand parted her legs and played with her inner lips and clitoris.

She ran her hands over his six pack and pecs, slick with water, before finding his manhood standing firm in appreciation. Stroking and playing with it, she soon rolled over and descended to embrace it with her soft lips, running her tongue up and down the shaft, before taking the entire length into her velvet mouth.

He groaned and stroked her hair, his balls building, before he pushed her head away and laid her down, legs spread wide to accept him. They thrust and pounded together as the moonlight faded; he flipped her around and entered from behind, and she trust back against him in sequence with his. Another change, and he was on his back while she rode him, bringing his hands up to fondle her breasts.

As her orgasm built, she saw the orange moon, deep in earthshine. Her vagina quivered, and then threw her over the edge, shuddering as he emptied himself with eyes wide open and buttocks clenched.

They held each other in the afterglow, and he nuzzled her chin. "You live up to your reputation, Ms. Cox."

"Thank you. We aim to please."

"Any chance I can get you to spend the night?"

She bit her lip. "I don't think so. I'm expected back around 10:00."

"Where are you supposed to be tonight?"

"With my friend Steffie, cutting out a dress."

He thought for several minutes, and said: "So, you have a glass of wine with her after you're done, and then another. You get carried away, Steffie's a lot of fun, and you're too drunk to drive home. Maybe she's getting sick and you have to stay with her. Think that line will play?"

"Maybe."

"I can do three way calling. If Steffie's game, you can both be on the line at once, and take turns talking."

Susie's brow wrinkled in thought. "Yes, that might work. Let me call her first and get our stories straight; she'll talk first and then me. And then. . ."

His lips sought hers and they blended in an open mouthed kiss.