I'm a Roman Catholic priest in my early forties and I find celibacy hard. I masturbate of course, I use porn and I know the places in the big city where I can go unrecognised and enjoy the pleasures of the flesh with just a condom between me and mortal sin. And there's my sweet young nineteen year old altar boy Michael who gives me a helping hand at mass on Sundays, and in other ways at other times. But occasionally I have a more satisfying opportunity to enjoy fleshly pleasures.
A new vicar, Rev. Wilson, had started at our local Anglican Church, St. Cuthberts. In a spirit of ecumenical unity we agreed to preach in each other's churches. So one afternoon I went to St. Cuthberts' vicarage to meet with Rev. Wilson to talk through our sermons and plan the church services.
The vicarage door was opened to me by Rev. Wilson's wife Rachel. She's about my age and attractive with neat dark hair nearly to her shoulders. She was in a dark blue button up the front dress ending just at her knees with her legs in tan nylons. Her dress clung to the curves of her body and showed anyone as interested as me that she had the kind of mature figure I'd savoured in my porn. I'd met Rachel before and from our first meeting she'd become a regular and enthusiastic participant in my masturbation fantasies.
Rachel greeted me with a friendly smile and led me to the vicarage study. As Rev. Wilson and I sat in his study chatting about church life in general Rachel brought us tea. My eyes involuntarily explored her from her bulging breasts to her shapely legs and as always I hoped she didn't notice I was mentally undressing her. We were going through our sermons and the order of service on the big monitor screen of the desktop computer when the phone rang in the house outside. A moment later Rachel's head poked through the door.
"It's you know who," she said.
The look on Rev. Wilson's face told me he knew exactly who it was on the phone. He apologised for the disturbance but I fully understood. Every church pastor has problem families in his parish and regularly has to deal with urgent and unexpected pastoral crises.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," Rev. Wilson said as he left.
I settled down in front of the computer screen going through the sermon I'd prepared. A couple of minutes later the study door opened and Rachel came in.
"He'll be at least an hour," she said, and the smile on her face was as mischievous as I've ever seen on a woman's face.
As she spoke she put her knee up onto the chair next to mine, lifting the hem of her dress in the process and exposing quite a length of her nylon clad thigh.
"Don't think I haven't noticed how you look at me, Father" Rachel said addressing me by my proper title as a priest of The Church. "Do you want to see his dirty pictures of me?" Her voice was soft but with an edge of excitement.
Without waiting for my reply Rachel reached across me brushing her breasts against my arm as she took the computer mouse. She opened the file menu and opened a folder, then a file. A moment later I felt as if an electric shock had hit me.
There on the screen was a picture of Rachel, nude except for red high heels and tiny white panties pulled down her bare thighs with her legs as wide as the panties stretched round her thighs would allow. She was in the kitchen of the vicarage standing bending over the kitchen table with her big breasts hanging pendulously over the table with her deep red-brown nipples brushing its top. The view was partly from behind, and showed her smooth round bottom gleaming under the kitchen lights. She paused long enough for me to take that picture in then clicked to the next. There was Rachel squatting on the kitchen table nude but for those red high with the camera pointed full frontal at her pussy. Her vagina was pulled open by her spread legs and her pink labia were showing through her dark cunt bush. I sat transfixed in stunned silence as Rachel flicked through more pictures, all every bit as kinky and erotic as my own porn collection.
"Do you like my body? I love showing myself to men. But I'm the vicar's wife. I can't wear skimpy tops and short skirts or tiny bikinis on the beach." I sensed her frustration. "He shows his pictures of me to other men in the church to wank over."
She reached down and opened a desk drawer. Out of it she pulled out some women's panties.
"He masturbates over my knickers," Rachel said. She held the panties out in front of me. They were cream coloured cotton with a pink pattern, very brief and quite stained. "He thinks I don't know."
She put the panties down on the desk, stood and slowly unbuttoned her dress down the front. It opened and she let it fall away behind her. She was wearing stockings, pastel grey lacy edged satin panties, and no bra. The curves of her body, her legs and her big firm breasts were everything I'd dreamed of in my masturbation fantasies.
"I put stockings on and took my bra off for you."
Rachel reached down and touched the ridge of my bulging erection.
"You're up hard. Do you want to masturbate over the panties I'm wearing now? I love watching men stroke their cocks off."
Again without waiting for my reply, Rachel slipped her panties off and tossed them onto the desk. Her neat bush of dark cunt fur erotically underlined by her stocking tops was as exciting as I'd imagined. She nudged her pussy toward me. My hand instantly cupped over her mound with my fingers ruffling her juice-moistened pubic hair and my fingertips sliding under her between her legs, exploring her vagina slit and teasing her clitoris. Rachel gave a deep moan and her breasts swung as she nuzzled her cunt mound hard against the palm of my hand.
"Are you enjoying your first feel of a woman's pussy, Father?" She said, giving me a mischievous smile. "Or perhaps you've been a naughty boy and it isn't your first feel."
I guessed my fingers must have told her I knew how a woman likes to be touched. A delightful novice nun had taught me that when I was eighteen at my all-boys Catholic boarding school. She'd also introduced me to the pleasures a woman's hands and lips can give a boy. Perhaps that's another story.
"Go on! Get your cock out! I want to watch you wank over my knickers!" Rachel's excited voice was getting insistent.
I let go of Rachel's pussy and quickly unzipped and dropped my trousers. I like sexy male underwear and I was in a tiny deep red thong much briefer than Rachel's panties. The back was just a thin strap nestling in my bum crack and the front pouch was barely big enough to hold my flaccid penis and balls, let alone the steel hard erection pushing out between my legs.
"Sexy undies!" Rachel said on seeing my thong. "I was right Father. You are a naughty boy."
Rachel's hand went straight down to stroke the huge bulging ridge of my shaft through the thin taut fabric of my thong and the erection-swollen head of my penis poking out above the waistband.
I slipped my thong down and my fully erect penis bounced out and swung stiffly. Though I'm a priest and celibate I knew my seven inches of hard muscle bending up from my thickly haired balls was nothing to be ashamed of. I'd often fantasised about exposing my naked sex kit to women in my church. I'd never dared do so, but on several occasions priests had unzipped and exposed themselves to me and asked for a hand job or suck off. I confess that sometimes I'd obliged them. I grunted involuntarily with the sudden burst of sexual pleasure as she felt my stiff penis, lightly stroking its smooth length and caressing its big soft head.
"So big and so stiff!" Rachel gasped excitedly. "Go on! Wank over my knickers!"
In the dormitories of my all boys school I'd learned how to put on a show to impress other boys with my masturbation technique. I'd learned to thrust, make lots of noise grunting, gasping and talking dirty, and most of all I'd learned how to edge, holding my straining penis in my hand on the almost agonising edge of orgasm before I wanked myself through to a cum. Through theological college, surrounded by young men as frustrated by celibacy as I was, I'd had plenty of opportunity to practice and perfect those skills. I knew how to put on a good show for Rachel.
But first my hands enjoyed Rachel's naked body. My hands explored her cunt, her smooth round bottom, her smooth thighs and her big soft breasts. As I ran my hands over her, Rachel's hand played with my naked penis and balls. The feel of her naked body against my hands and her soft fingers on my cock and balls roused my straining penis to the peak of erection stiffness and pleasure sensitivity. Pre-cum oozed over my cock head and I struggled not to cum.
I spread my legs, lifted my clerical shirt off out of the way so I was naked above my thighs. I thrust my penis forward towards the grey panties on the desk. I gripped Rachel's bottom to pull her naked body against mine. Her big soft breasts squeezed against my arm and her hairy pussy brushed against my thigh. Another thing I'd long since learned was that though masturbation was an exquisite solitary pleasure, wanking with an audience added penis-straining erotic excitement, and best of all was a partner's naked body for my spare hand to play with as I pumped my cock.
I wrapped my whole fist round my straining hard, pre-cum lubed shaft and began to tug and stroke full length from my fist slamming into my bush of pubic hair to my hand catching my corona ridge and sliding over my swollen pleasure-sensitised cock head. With my spare hand I fondled and explored Rachel's naked bottom and thighs. On the computer screen Rachel was doing the splits nude on a bed, leaning back on her hands to arch her back so her breasts swung up and out. I grunted and gasped noisily and snarled out words unbecoming of a priest. But Rachel's smile at things like:
