"Then, what
was she doing walking up the steps of the Honeydew Hotel
yesterday?"
"It must have
been someone else."
"It was Josie,
all right. No doubt about it."
"It can't have
been," Will murmured. "It's just not possible."
"I'm telling
you it was her, Will. She was wearing that blue summer dress you
bought her last year. You know, the one we inadvertently spunked
over when we were all pissed."
Rubbing his
chin as the anal-tart stretched her limbs and relaxed on the grass,
Will began to wonder whether Josie had returned from Moscow and was
spying on him. Using the hotel as a base, she could jump on a bus
to Cumsdale and creep around the village, lurk in bushes and watch
his every move. She might well have been watching the double
fucking, he thought fearfully, looking at the bushes surrounding
the clearing. Not only was the village teeming with teenage
dirt-bags, but now Josie might be roaming around. Fuck it.
"That's
typical of you," the Reverend Mother hissed as she emerged from the
bushes and entered the clearing. "You're nothing but a
man-slag."
"Fuck me,"
Will gasped.
"OK," the
girl-tart grinned, spreading her naked thighs. "Let's fuck
rotten."
"Why don't you
fuck off," Bob said, looking up at the Reverend Mother.
"Yeah, fuck
off," the whore-slut rejoined. "This is a private shagging
party."
"That's it,
Entercock," the Reverend Mother scowled. "You're done for now."
"It's not
illegal to sunbathe naked in the woods," Will smiled. "Why don't
you strip off and... On second thoughts, don't bother. Your
leathery tits are probably carrying botulism."
"I'm going
straight to the Bishop."
"Give the old
cunt my regards," Bob chuckled, wanking his stiffening penis.
"My God,
you're both vile and disgusting. Never have I known..."
"Fuck off, you
slack-cunted hag," the girl-slut giggled. "You're not wanted
here."
"You'll be
sorry, Entercock," the woman spat, turning and walking away. "Not
only will you never preach again, you'll be banished from the
village."
"You're the
one who'll be sorry," Will called. "Especially when I make it known
that you took photographs of a girl sucking the Bishop's cock and
drinking his spunk."
"What? I did
no such thing."
"I have the
photographs in my possession."
"I know
nothing about..."
"Chat to the
Bishop about it and see what he has to say."
As the woman
disappeared into the bushes Will climbed to his feet and slipped
into his cassock. Determined to find out exactly what Josie was
doing, he told Bob and the sex-slut that he'd see them in the bar
that evening. Leaving the clearing and making his way home, he
decided to ring the Honeydew Hotel. It would be despicable of Josie
to stay at a hotel a few miles away and come creeping around the
village spying on him. Perhaps she had got a flight home, he mused,
reaching his house. There again, if she'd been that worried about
him, she'd have never gone to Moscow.
Walking
through the open front door, he slipped up stairs as laughter
emanated from the bar. He'd join the punters later, he decided.
There were things to do before getting wrecked in the bar. Checking
though the phone book, he found the Honeydew Hotel and dialled the
number. The receptionist had never heard of Josie, and Will was
sure that she would have booked in under another name. Describing
Josie to the girl, Will knew that he was wasting his time.
Finally
hanging up, he reckoned that he had two choices. Go to the hotel
and look for Josie, or keep his eyes peeled for moving bushes at
the end of the garden. There was no way anyone could see the bar
from the lane. The only place to hide and get a good view of the
bar was in the garden. Thinking that it might be an idea to lay a
few gin traps in the bushes, he pondered ringing the hotel in
Moscow to see whether Josie had checked out.
"Where's the fucking number," he breathed, sifting through a
pile of papers on the desk. Having virtually wrecked the office
searching for the number, he finally gave up and slumped in his
swivel chair.
Plucked from this mortal coil
and plunged into the depths of hell
, he
mused fearfully. It had been a dream, hadn't it? Unless kids had
been messing around in the church. There was no need to worry, was
there?
"I posted your
letters," Lana said as she breezed into the room.
"Oh, thanks,"
Will smiled. "How are things in the bar?"
"It's been
very good this morning. There's no one in the bar now as they've
all gone home for lunch. They'll be back this evening, I'm
sure."
"Good, good.
Any phone calls?"
"Only one from
a Mrs Baxter. She wants you to call her back."
"God, now what
does the nutter want?"
"She said
something about having trouble with changing her baby's
nappies."
"Her baby is
eighteen years old."
"Really?"
"Really. The
woman's a complete and utter head case."
"Oh, a man
called to see you."
"A man?"
"Yes. He said
that he wanted to talk to you about Cumsdale Church."
"Did you see
him or just hear his thunderous voice echoing around the
building?"
"I saw him. He
came into the lounge."
"Did he look
like the Lord?"
"What are you
on about now? Of course he didn't look like the Lord."
"Thank God for
that."
"He wants to
talk to you about..."
"Sexual
shenanigans?"
"No."
"Unpaid income
tax?"
"No."
"Stolen
goods?"
"No, of course
not. He wants you to go back to the church."
"It was the
Lord! Fucking hell, I'm going to die at midnight. I'm to be plucked
from my mortal coil and..."
"Back to the
church as a priest."
"What?"
"He wants you
to be Priest of Cumsdale Church. He'll be back in about half an
hour."
"Shit. I mean,
fuck. I mean, cunt. Fucking hell fire."
"What are you
talking about?"
"I don't know.
Who was this man? What did he look like?"
"Cardinal
something or other."
"Fuck my tight
arse backwards!"
"I haven't got
a cock. And if I had..."
"I have to get
ready," Will gasped, leaping out of his chair. "Do I look OK?"
"You look
shagged out."
"Why, thank
you."
"It's
true."
"That doesn't
surprise me. OK, I'll pace the lounge floor and get myself into a
state of anxiety verging on blind panic while I wait for him. When
he arrives, show him into the lounge. And try not to show him your
cunt."
"As if I'd do
such a thing," she giggled, leaving the office.
Will was sure
that Lana had got it wrong as he made his way downstairs to the
lounge. Looking out of the window, he knew that there was no way
he'd be taken back into the priesthood. With his track record, he'd
be lucky to be allowed to enter a church again, let alone resume
his position as Priest of Cumsdale Village. Scratching his bollocks
through his cassock as he paced the lounge floor, all thoughts of
Josie blown from his mind, he tried to think positively. Perhaps
Lana hadn't got it wrong. Perhaps this, perhaps that... By the time
the doorbell rang, he was in a state of total confusion.
"Er... Good
morning," Will smiled as Lana showed a balding man into the
room.
"Good morning,
Mr Entercock. I'm Cardinal Peter Browngrass. I'm pleased to meet
you."
Brown arse?
"The pleasure's mine, Cardinal. Please, be seated."
"Thank you.
I'm here to ask whether you'd consider taking up your old position
of Priest of Cumsdale."
"Er... Yes,
right," Will stammered as the man sat on the sofa.
"I'm new to
this job and I've been wondering who to appoint as priest. The
church has been unused for six months now."
"Yes, it's a
great shame."
"I wasn't able
to find your file, which I thought strange. In fact, there's no
record of you."
Shit, I stole the file
. "So, how did
you find me? How did you know I was once Priest of
Cumsdale?"
"I discovered
one or two letters tucked away at the back of the desk. They
mentioned your good work. The new church roof, for example. Would
you consider returning to your post?"
"Oh, yes."
"Seeing as I
know nothing about you, I'd like to ask you a few questions.
Firstly, why did you leave the priesthood?"
"To spend more
time helping the needy."
"Good, good.
Er... The young lady who answered the door. Is she...?"
"The cleaner. She comes off...
in
three times each week."
"Ah, right.
So, you're celibate?"
"Completely
and utterly. As celibate as the Blessed Virgin Mary."
"Good
man."
"Was she?"
"No, I meant
you."
"Oh, I
see."
"Sex, Mr
Entercock."
"Where?"
"Do you have
carnal cravings?"
Damned right!
"No, no, no."
"You do
understand that I have to ask you these questions?"
"Yes, of
course."
"Some men are
unable to control their base desires."
Will knew the
feeling.
"You never
find yourself tempted by the pleasures of the flesh? Tempted to
commit vulgar and debased sins of the flesh?"
All the time.
"No, no. I'm a man of great celibacy, Cardinal."
"It's just
that there's no much sin and debauchery going on all around us
these days."
"You're
telling me... I mean, it's terrible the way some people carry on. I
was giving a girl one only this morning."
"Giving her
one?"
"Erm... A
lecture on the ways of the Lord."
"I hope you
taught her well."
"Indeed I did,
Cardinal. I'll be teaching her a lot more later."
"Right, I've
made my mind up. You are to become Father Entercock, Priest of
Cumsdale Church."
"Why, thank
you," Will grinned. That was one up the Mother Fucker's
arsehole.
"I think it
best just to reinstate you rather than go through the inconvenience
of..."
"Does that
mean that, as from now, I'm..."
"Indeed it does,
Father
Entercock."
"Goodness me.
I can't tell you how delighted I am." Lock up your daughters, for
Father Entercock was riding again. "I can hardly wait to have them
over the altar... To have my parishioners before the altar."
"I really must
be going as I have an appointment. I'll be in touch, Father."
"Yes, yes of
course. And, thank you."
"Thank
you
,
Father. Good day."
"Yes, good
day."
This was a
miracle, Will reflected as the old man left the house. A miracle
that called for a celebration. Finding Lana in the bar, Will ripped
her short skirt from her curvaceous body and tore her panties off.
Standing with her hands on her hips as he dropped to his knees and
buried his face between her legs, she raised her eyes to the
ceiling. The man was mad, she was sure as his tongue delved into
her pussy. Her clitoris stiffening, her juices of lust flowing, she
was about to part her feet and peel open the fleshy lips of her
cunny when she heard a voice in the hall.
"A customer,"
she breathed, pushing Will away and grabbing her shredded clothes
from the floor.
"Fuck," Will
sighed, rising to his feet.
"I was about
to," the girl giggled, dashing behind the bar and wrapping a tea
towel around her middle.
"Entercock,"
Bill Whithers stormed as he entered the bar. "I've been looking for
you."
"Ah, Mr
Whithers," Will smiled. "How's the wife?"
"Fucking
pregnant. And my fucking daughter."
"Now, let me
get this right. Oh, Lana. Would you give Mr Whithers a pint of
bitter, please? On the house, of course. Now, Bill. You say that
your wife is fucking while she's pregnant? I really don't think
it's a good idea to pummel the cervical oz with your knob while
she's..."
"She's not
fucking. She's been fucked."
"I suppose, as
she's pregnant, that goes without saying. And your daughter is also
fucking and pregnant?"
"There we are,
sir," Lana smiled, placing the man's pint on the bar.
"Oh, er...
Thanks. My daughter has also been fucked."
"Hence, her
predominant pregnant predicament. "
"You did it.
When I was doing shift work at the flowerpot factory, you fucked my
wife."
"Who fucked
your daughter?"
"You did."
"God has only
blessed me with one penis, Bill."
"One after the
other, you prat."
"One penis
after the other? I'm sorry, I'm not with you."
"No, but you
were with my wife and daughter. You fucked them, Entercock."
"
Father
Entercock, if you don't mind. Now, let's sort this mess out
once and for all. Your wife and daughter are both pregnant. From
this simple fact, I'd say that they've both had sexual intercourse.
Now I'd like to know..."
"Yes, with
you."
"I don't have
sexual intercourse, Bill. Being a man of God..."
"Being a man of
fucking
..."
"Excuse me,
sir," Lana smiled. "I might have to throw you out if you continue
to use bad language."
"Bad fucking
language?"
"Yes, sir. Bad
fucking language."
"Oh, right.
This beer's OK, Entercock."
"It's the very
best. We shall have to wet the baby's head when it arrives."