The news that the only Catholic Church in town was closing was no surprise. For years young people had been leaving the country town and even though there were plenty of Catholics around, it seemed that the only ones attending Mass were the widows, and even then irregularly. It was known widely that Father Brennan would be announcing the closure and on that Sunday there were more than 20 widows in the congregation. To his surprise, three notes were passed through to him in the confessional. They more or less said the same thing, 'looking forward to keeping you company when you decline your vows.' Father Brennan had no idea who had made the notes as they were handed over in silence and when he looked at the congregation afterwards, there was not a clue on the face of anybody as to who might have done this. There was a large function which was well attended and afterwards many invitations to visit and have meals. As part of the arrangement for the church to close down, he had been given the use of a small house outside the town which had been gifted to the church by an old couple who had died recently. The notes had piqued his interest but no matter how hard he tried, he could not determine who had written them.
There was nothing in his background that could have given him any inkling of what would happen or could happen. His knowledge of the female body was more or less limited to what he saw in advertisements where models were in various stages of undress. You can see the outline but not the flesh. He had vague ideas of what intimacy involved through statements saying that a man entered into a woman and he knew what part of the body that activity actually took place in. He thought he could remember seeing photographs of women's bodies many years ago but the images very unclear. So it was with some level of interest that he hoped he would learn that what he had been missing.
It was a very warm summer's Monday afternoon when he visited Mrs Morris and her small orchard. Mrs Morris had been widowed just a few years earlier when her much older husband, who was a drunkard, had died. The kids had long gone and she had stayed on through economic necessity as much as anything else. The afternoon began with a tour of the orchard and picking some fruit and then afternoon tea - she drank tea, he had a few beers. They chatted amicably for a long time and then had a nice dinner followed by watching the news. Eleanor's suggestion that they play Scrabble was very welcome - it was Father Brennan's favourite pastime. Eleanor brought out a bottle of red wine left to her when her husband died. He had a large cellar and regularly drank himself to sleep. Each time Father Brennan got over 50 points there was a little toast. Eleanor had a sip but Father Brennan, who was not used to drinking, was going through the wine much faster. They were soon into the second bottle and it became apparent that Father Brennan was not in a fit state to drive home that night. Eleanor helped him stumble over to the couch where he quickly fell asleep. Eleanor knew from experience with her husband what had to be done. She more or less dragged him into the bathroom to have a pee and then dragged him onto her bed and changed him into a pair of her husband's pyjamas.
In the morning Father Brennan woke up with a headache and looked around trying to clear his head and work out where he was. He looked at the pyjamas and realised that they weren't his and then he saw that he was in a strange room. Eleanor appeared at the side of the bed and said, "good morning would you like a cup of coffee?"
"Make it strong. Very strong. My head feels terrible."
He still didn't understand exactly how he got into this unfamiliar position. The coffee arrived and his brain started to clear just a little.
"Can I have a second cup?"
"Of course."
"How did I get here? What happened?"
"We played Scrabble and we drank some wine and you must have drunk too much. You couldn't drive so I put you to bed and here you are."
"How did I get into these pyjamas?"
"I helped you get into them."
"Do you mean you undressed me? "
"Yes. I had done it many times for my husband when he was drunk and I helped to go to the toilet so that you wouldn't wet the bed."
"Do you mean...?"
"Yes. There was no other way otherwise you would have wet the bed."
"Do you mean you held my dick in your hand?"
"Well you were in no position to aim so I had to do it."
There was a long silence. A really long silence as Father Brennan considered what had happened.
"Turn the light off. It's too bright. Just leave me here for a while."
What Eleanor didn't tell Father Brennan was what had actually happened. When she put him on the bed to change into the pyjamas he was completely helpless and away with the fairies. She thought about it for a little while and then tried to see if she could make his dick go hard but it was hopeless, he was under the influence of alcohol. No amount of hand movements up and down made any difference at all. She looked at his dick and thought it was so ugly when it was lying there short and helpless. A man's dick looked so much better when it was hard and straight and strong. That excited a woman's imagination. She tried to pull his foreskin back but it wasn't easy when the penis was soft but eventually she managed and when his pink tip appeared, she gave it a quick kiss and thought to herself, it won't be long and my other lips will be giving you a kiss. By now she was well aroused and felt she was really wet. She pulled her trusty vibrator from under the pillow and had a welcome orgasm.
Father Brennan was trying to gather his thoughts together and understand what was happening. Nothing in his training was helping him to make sense of his position and what he should do next. He appreciated the good intentions of this nice woman who was looking after him when he obviously wasn't feeling the best. On the other hand he was beginning to feel the stirrings of affection for someone - something that had been missing in his life for decades. She was the first and only woman who had touched him in his life. Was he bound by his vows still or was he allowed to behave like a layperson? One of the notes that had been passed to him in the confessional said, "You can't be a layperson unless you've been laid." That had rather shocked him but that was now just the dilemma he was in. He wondered if Eleanor had actually written that note. Still slightly under the effect of the alcohol from the night before, he fell asleep and woke to find Eleanor in bed with him, spooning him from behind. She had her hand over his body and on his chest. He stirred and his movement woke her.
He said, "Good afternoon. How long have we been like this?"
"A few hours. Are you feeling better?" "
"Much better. My head is clearer."
Eleanor had not planned that things would work out like this. She only knew that it would be nice if she could get Father Brennan to make love to her but she had no idea how she would achieve that. Now was the time for a critical decision. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. A cock in the hand might be better. If she didn't strike now, he might get frightened and never come back. It was a chance worth taking. She was so close. She thought it would be a good idea to take advantage of his confused state and act right now.
"Do you believe in the resurrection?"
"Of course I do."
"My husband used to say: 'An erection is the best resurrection.'"
"I never heard anybody say that before."
"This is what he meant." And with that Eleanor snaked her hand down to Father Brennan's penis. There was no resistance as her skilled fingers began to squeeze and bring to life what she supposed had been dead for years. The alcohol had worn off. The skilled interplay of thumb and forefinger soon had their effect and Father Brennan's penis was soon erect.
"Is what I am doing a mortal sin?"
