Marcia McNab, housekeeper, verger and general factotum to the vicar of Chigwell was seriously pissed off. The vicar, David Rutter had brought the Lady Mayoress, Daphne Hightower bloody hyphen Jennings home the night before and had proceeded to fuck her senseless. Marcia had heard the moans and screams from her downstairs bedroom and had been forced to frot her clit for over two hours before sleep finally claimed her. On top of that, he had dismissed Marcia’s usual morning position – tits out, mouth open, dentures removed with an airy wave muttering “no time” as he raced out the door for a benediction day at the local convent of the Order of our Lady of Succour. He was treating her like a dog, and an ignored dog at that.
To top it off, Daphne Hightower bloody hyphen Jennings had staggered into the kitchen an hour later, and, having demanded a cup of tea in her hoity toity voice, had proceeded to give a blow by blow account of her night of depravity with the indefatigable vicar. Marcia’s friend, the Reverend Fran Jessop had done the same a week before and that had been equally frustrating.
“On top of that,” whined the Lady Mayoress, “I’ve lost my knickers. Look, I’ve got to get home dripping like an effing faucet.” She had thrown up the hem of her dress and showed the awed Marcia a puffy swollen vagina that oozed spunk dribbling down to a reddened arse hole that also showed signs of whitish emission. “That bastard pumped gallons of the stuff into me. Not that I minded at the time, but it’s been effing oozing out of me for ages. And look at what he did to my breasts!” She had then proceeded to pull a pair of awesome breasts out of her blouse. Large dark nipples still stood to attention but it was the 3 inch diameter areolae that showed teeth marks that were causing her angst. Scaled across them and up to her throat were crusted remains of even more spunk. “I will have to hide these from the Mayor and he’ll be home by lunch time from that Local Government conference he was at. Damn and blast the vicar! The Mayor does like a bit of breast play with oneself after he’s been away. How on earth am I going to explain teeth marks all over one’s titties?” she moaned.
Marcia restrained herself, lent Daphne a towel and recommended an anti wrinkle cream as she showed the woman out the door. As she hurried out to climb behind the wheel of her car, Marcia’s younger sister, Olivia passed her carrying an overnight bag. She wrinkled her nose as she passed the Lady Mayoress.
“Marcia, darling!” she exclaimed rushing forward to hug her sister. “I say, that woman smelt like she’d been shagged by a tribe of Hottentots!”
“Come in Livvie and I’ll explain all. So nice to see you. You look tanned and very healthy.”
“After Allen died, I took a fair amount of his money and treated myself to a Mediterranean holiday. Sun, sea and sex. Those Greek beach boys certainly know how to treat an old lady – as long as she has money.”
Once upon a time, Marcia would have been shocked at such a revelation but her recent months with the demon vicar had inured her against news of sexual excess. This was noticed by her sister. “Marcia, old girl, you don’t look shocked. I was sure that last bit would shock you being the old prude that you are!”
“Was, Livvie, was. Come and have some tea and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Tea made, they settled down in the cosy kitchen to gossip.
“Livvie, you wouldn’t believe what I’ve done in the last couple of months. I have had a veritable river of spunk hosed across my breasts and down my throat. Close your mouth dear, it will bring flies. Further more, I’ve spent hours on my knees having my cleavage or my mouth fucked.”
“I just don’t believe it!! Fucked!?! Even your vocabulary has changed!”
“Believe it Livvie, believe it. Wait til you meet the vicar. He’s tall, dark and devastatingly handsome with one of the most arrogant cocks you’ve ever seen. I know you’ve seen your fair share but this one is special. The only one I ever saw, and that was a glimpse, was that of my late and quite unlamented husband.”
“So, you’re finally getting the shagging you missed out on all those years.”
Marcia wept a few tears and hung her head in sorrow. “No Livvie. He keeps promising, or threatening, to do it but he hasn’t. He shags anything remotely female that moves. And he seems to have absolute reservoirs of spunk. He has shagged women all night and still had enough left to pour half a pint down my throat first thing in the morning!” she sobbed. “Once he finds you here, you can bet he’ll have your knickers down and his dick up your hairy twat within seconds.”
