This story happened 20 years ago. It is narrated by the son.
The political condition between our country and our neighbors was boiling. Talks of an upcoming invasion filled the air. Our village was situated on the border of the two countries so the villagers were always waiting for any piece of news on the fragile peace between our two countries.
I was born to my dad and mom soon after they married. At the time of the story, I was five years old and I had no brothers or sisters. I still remember my parents citing the cause of not having other children to the bad economic and political situation of the country.
We were a happy little family although my dad was a very stern man. I rarely remember seeing him laughing or smiling. He was strict with my mother although she was his first sweetheart in the village. Mom and dad didn't continue their education but they knew the minimum to read and write.
Their education was mainly administered by the local church and that was why my father had a great respect for the priests and the clergy in general.
Mom was always obedient to dad as was the norm in villages at that time. Whatever dad said was the right thing for mom. She never objected and I could always see the acceptance in her beautiful blue eyes. Mom was 30 years old back then, five years younger than dad.
Her long blond hair flowed over her shoulders and her slender figure matched with her medium height. Mom was blessed with a pair of big breasts that were very hard to conceal and were complemented by a small firm ass.
On the other hand, my father worked in the fields all day and sold the vegetables and the meat from the cattle every few weeks to make a living. This work made him stay in good shape for his age. He was around 180 cm tall, which was considered tall in our village. All the people in the village knew that dad was a very strict man through his way of parenting me.
When I was little, I used to be afraid of dad but I also admired him for his masculinity and his strength.
One sacred date for my parents and especially dad was every Sunday. We went to church to attend the mass and we never missed a mass in my youth. So we lead a pious life and even though we weren't rich we were able to get by in our modest life in the village.
A few months after my fifth birthday I remember that a gas leak accident in the monastery lead to the tragic death of our elderly bishop in the village. I still remember that dad and mom were very upset as was the whole village. The priest that came after the late bishop needed a place to live for a few months until the monastery was restituted.
Dad was the first man in the village to insist on welcoming the new priest in our house as we had an empty guest room. Dad said that the priest staying in our home would be a blessing for our family.
The rest of the village was a little apprehensive when they knew that the priest assigned to our village was from our neighboring country. In those political conditions, our people weren't very sympathetic with the neighbors, but a priest was an exception and dad made sure that all of the village knew that fact.
The first time I saw the priest, Father Tyrone, my small mind was fascinated. Father Tyrone was a dark black man, around 190 cm tall, a hulk of a physique barely being covered by his large priest robe. Although he was about ten years younger than dad, my father respected all clergy.
As soon as he arrived, dad ran to the door to greet him and kiss his black hand in reverence. Mom did the same. She approached the big black man, took his big hand and kissed it with her soft white lips.
The priest smiled at my parents as he blessed them.
"Thank you for accommodating me in your house" said the priest.
"It is our pleasure, father" replied my dad, and it was one of the rare times where I saw a smile on his face.
Dad didn't allow mom to talk to men or to interact with them much but something weird happened a few weeks after the priest's arrival.
One day, I arrived from school and I found dad and mom and many villagers in our living room waiting patiently. A few minutes later, a doctor came out telling them that the priest will be okay. It was a mild fever and he only needs to take medication and he will be out of bed in a few days.
After the doctor and the villagers left, dad and mom entered to check on Father Tyrone. He told them that his illness isn't physical. The devil is trying to punish him for his good deeds in our city. He asked mom and dad and me to pray with him so he can get better. And of course we did that and I noticed dad piously praying for the young priest to get better.
The next day, dad went to the fields and mom stayed at home as usual. She suddenly heard the priest calling her name. As she rushed to the room, she was surprised in finding the black man shirtless. He gave her a flask of oil and told her she needed to help him to rub it all over his body as a shield against the illness inflected by the devil. Mom hesitated a little, especially as she saw the huge physique of the priest.
Mom didn't expect to find this musculature on a priest. His black biceps were rippled and the size of footballs. His chest was big, his shoulders wide and his abs were well defined. He was practically fat free and full of rippling muscles on his smooth black body. Mom has never touched a man other than dad, nonetheless touched him so she excused herself and ran from the room blushing.
When dad came back in the evening, the priest told him that mom wasn't able to help him today in some of the chores that will help him heal spiritually and fen off the devil telling him the reason is that she didn't want to be with him in the same room, omitting the fact that he wanted her to rub oil on his nude body.
Dad was furious, telling mom sternly that Father Tyrone is a man of God and we should do everything possible to help him or we will be damned by all the saints. Mom's eyes filled with tears as she was being scolded by dad for the faithfulness she thought she was preserving. She obediently nodded her head and promised she will do anything the lovely priest would ask her in order for him to get better and serve the community.
The next day, mom heard the black man calling her name again. As she entered his room, she blushed seeing him lying on his bed with nothing but his underwear on. Mom knew that she needed to fulfill her duty toward the church and the priest and rub the holy oil on the man's body to fend off the evil spirits. As she entered she saw the black priest lying on the bed shirtless and in his boxers, opening his meaty thighs wide.
"Come my dear and help me fend off the evil spirits. Don't you want me to be able to serve your town? How can I do it if these evil spirits are in my body?" asked the sneaky priest as he flexed his big steel-hard biceps.
Mom felt her face redden as she nodded and took the oil bottle.
"What do you want me to do, reverend?"
"As a first step this holy oil needs to be rubbed on my whole body by a lady from the village where the spirits got to me. That would be you. I need you to spill this oil and rub it on my body"
Mom took the bottle and began spilling the oil on the hard muscles of the black priest. Once a puddle of oil began streaming on the muscular abs, mom began rubbing the priest's chest with her small manicured hands.
"Yes my dear. Continue. I can feel the spirits in unrest"
As mom covered the priest's black body with oil, it began to shine like the bodies of bodybuilders in competition. The priest saw mom ogling his muscular body as she rubbed the oil on his overdeveloped pecs.
"I am a priest and a professional bodybuilder. I can fight bad people spiritually and physically" the priest told mom as he flexed his veiny arms and big pecs.
