Father Briar and The Angel (15 page)

She was surprised then,
when he spoke up.

“Jewels
stop,” he begged.

She realized he was at the
edge of climax and wanted to hold off, so she let him slid from her
mouth and tumbled to her back. He moved to the top position and
kneeled between her legs.

The heat rushed to her
face and then away again, down through her chest and then between
her legs as he explored her folds and her wetness. He raised his
head and refocused his attention on her nipples, moving from one to
another. He took them between his teeth and saw how far he could go
before she cried out with pleasure. It wasn’t very far, she felt as
though every nerve ending and every fiber of her body was on fire,
even though he was being as gentle as could be expected of any man
who’d endured a prior commitment celibacy as long as he
had.

Father Briar used his
strong arms to toss her legs over her head. He did this with a
smile. He pressed himself against her and enjoyed the wiggling of
her hips, her little noises, her groans of desire. He could feel
the juices seeping from her and he wanted more and more of them. So
he teased her with his purple head and then pulled away.

The repeated rhythm of
this was enough to bring her to the edge, that glorious, dangerous
edge. She spread herself even further for him and enjoyed the
feeling of the warmth evaporating between them and the winter’s
chill, which was present in every room that year, cooling
her.

Her exhibitionism (even if
nobody but he was there to see) inflamed her, already aching,
all-consuming pussy. She knew from previous experience with him,
sleight as though it was, that he wouldn’t enter her yet, he’d
tease more out of the experience, if not for her, for
himself.

But, oh Lord, she loved it
too!

He proved her right.
Taking his penis away from her, he decided to use his mouth to
enhance their lovemaking. He blazed a trail passionate and inhaling
kisses around her body, seeming to land his mouth on whatever
random bit of physical geography pleased him best.

Finally his spectacular
mouth landed between her legs and she screamed and drew her breath
back in and screamed some more. This was unbearable, the
combination of release and desire for more, the love of this and
the wanting of something different.

Cedric decided to take
things even further and closed the whole of his mouth around as
much of her vagina as he could. He drew it all in, stretching her
out in entirely new ways. Her insides felt warm and as though they
might feel great enough to come out and explore a little. She
gasped extended and interesting gasps that fascinated him and he
thought there might be whole languages contained within
them.

“I have been blessed by
God,” he told her. “And I believe myself to be the luckiest man on
the face of the earth.”

He hoped she didn’t
recognize that he was plagiarizing Lou Gehrig. She didn’t, so he
continued; now making shit up as he went along.

“I am so very lucky. I
find myself between both of my worlds right now, and I am finding
it equally easy to move among them.”

“I came
here to find happiness. And I’ve found it with you, so can we stop
the talk of the Church and your duties there, and for now, at
least, enjoy the balance? For as long as it may last?” When Cedric
put his mouth to hers, she got a bit dizzy as the blood rushed from
her head to regions further south. kissed her, the heat rushed to
her groin. She’d never wanted anyone this much before, and she
found herself questioning what would happen to them, with his
obligations to his parish, his Order, and his God. She forced
herself not to focus on the potentially devastating unknowns and
instead gave her full measure of attention to the pleasure and the
illicit thrill of their forbidden love.

He was ready for
intercourse. As he ground against her with a gentle but insistent
urgency, he said, “make eye contact with me, my dear, deep and real
and soulful.”

Lifting her lids, she
stared into those deep brown eyes, those eyes that seemed to
contain worlds. He thrust a few times, not putting himself into
her, just enjoying the back and forth movement, the grinding of
their bodies, the sweat, the heat, the warmth. Now he took both of
her wrists in his hands, as though he was cuffing her. Taking
complete and utter control over the sexy situation, he pushed
himself in and out, pausing longer each time as he did. Julianna
writhed with difficult but worthwhile joy under his strong
hands.

Father Briar’s rhythm
increased but he lost none of his precision, or any of his gentle
care for her. His thrusts became wild and strong but not savage or
brutal. What little pain she felt only enhanced the pleasure, the
utterly incomparable pleasure.

Julianna lost all
self-control as he pounded. Everything but sex was lost, Cedric had
taken over completely, and the chemicals and juices of sex coursed
through her as his cock took over her vagina for what seemed like
hours. After an orchestral build, he came with a long scream. Still
new to lovemaking, this was a cry of ecstatic orgasm Julianna had
not yet heard.

She loved it.

Lying next to Cedric while
he slept in post-coital bliss, Julianna felt safe and just as
importantly, warm. This winter, warmth was safety. But to him, his
Order was safety, his parish was safety, his educational rigor and
place in the Church’s hierarchy was safety.

“What am I?” she
thought.

She knew the circumstances
of her relationship with unique and fraught with danger for Cedric,
danger both professional and moral. She knew that they would have
to have a talk about how to bring harmony and religious balance to
a relationship that would not take easily to either.

“How is
this going to work,” she asked him when he woke. She’d had a
sleepless night; he’d slept like a baby, without as much as a
stir.

“I put
it in you, take it out, put it in, for as long as both of us can
last without coming,” he joked quite seriously.

“This isn’t a joking
matter, Cedric.”

“You are right, it isn’t.
But happiness and love like ours never falls into your lap. You
must pursue it by being true to yourself first.”

She laughed in his face.
“You believe you’ve been true to yourself. The promises you’ve made
to the Society of Jesus, your beloved Order?”

“
What if
I lose you? How could I deal with that again? Our first separation
was so hard!”

“Who will separate us from
the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution,
or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?” he said, quoting the
book of Romans. “The same is from us, Julianna. We shall not be
separated again.”

You’ve been my constant,
my reason, and a part of my religion, even. A part that I’m still
figuring out, yes, but still, an integral and pleasurable
part.

These winters aren’t easy
on me, either, and you’re and my motivation get through them, to
eventually get to spend a summer with you. First one summer, then
many, many more. I know I love you and throughout the whole time we
were separated, I prayed that you would, one warm day, love me,
too.”

“We’ll get through it,
Julianna “I know we will. We’ll get through the morality, the
amorality, the immorality.”

“What we
are doing is not immoral.”

“I don’t believe it is
either. Sorry. I got a little of my “preacher’s rhythm” going there
for a m0ment. We will make it because you’ve changed me, you’ve
changed my long-cherished views, and you’ve helped me through some
long, cold nights.”

“Making it through another
long, freezing night together sounds wonderful. Can we try again
tonight?”

There was nothing either
of them wanted more. His body was wonderfully comforting, smooth
and strong; his back was rippled and full of contours that she
wanted to explore all night. She was warm and safe, but somewhere
in her heart of hearts, when she woke up, she’d be
alone.

Chapter Sixteen: At Home
With the Olsens.

They were watching
I Love Lucy
and arguing
about morality, a combination that went like white wine with fish
in the 1950’s.

“Your father and I forbid
you from seeing that girl,” Trig’s mother said. “She is a bad
influence.”

Ty Olsen was no dummy; he
was pretty sure it was his son that was the bad influence, knowing
well how teenage boys, especially those with extra testosterone
from athletics, could be.

“Focus on hockey,” he said
with a smile he hoped was accommodating to his wife and stern to
his son but was ridiculous to both.

Lucy and Ricky were arguing
about Ricky’s career. A nightclub singer was no respectable
job.

“You are going to college,
right?” his mother pressed, for the forty seventh time that
day.

“If the boy can get a spot
on a junior hockey time, that is a fine living.”

“Semi-professional hockey?
Why would he prostitute himself like that?” his mother scoffed.
“The boy has an intellect which should be polished in
college.”

“Tough to polish a turd,” Ty
the taxidermist thought, but said instead “Semi-pro hockey gives
him a shot at the big time.”
“I don’t just have a shot at the big time,” Trig piped up, “I’m a
sure thing.”

Ricky played his bongos to
drown out Lucy’s harping. Lucy was an attractive woman in Ty
Olsen’s eyes and he constantly pined for Ricky to get so goofy Lucy
would leave her ethnic husband and settle down with a nice
Norwegian farmer.

“Nothing is a sure thing,
the Bible teaches us that,” his mother said, returning to a theme
that was as effective with teenagers than as it is now.

“Does the Bible teach us how
to shoot a slapshot?”

“The Bible teaches us how to
be saved.”
“Trigger Olsen shoots, Jesus saves, Trig with the rebound and he
scores!” her son said in his best radio play-by-by announcer’s
voice.

His mother was properly
offended by his blaspheming and left the room.

Once he did, his dad gave
him a big old hug, because, well, boys will be boys.

“Trigger shoots, Jesus
saves,” his father chuckled. “Now that is funny enough to be on Ed
Sullivan.”

Trig wandered off, leaving
his dad to the rest of the night’s television. He was hoping to
find a can of beer stashed somewhere, something to take his mind
off of Ramona.

The
I Love Lucy
theme played in his
head, with the jingle modified by teenage hormones.

I love Ramona and she
loves me.
We're as happy as two can be.
Sometimes we quarrel but then
How we love making love again.
Ramona fucks like no one
can

she’s my girl and I'm her
man,
And life is Heaven you see,
'Cause I love Ramona, I fuck Ramona,

and Ramona loves
me!

Had the boy been in any
way theologically inclined (despite his mother and Father Briar’s
best interests) he would’ve noticed the link between sex, love, and
Heaven in the doggerel he’d composed, but he didn’t. Trig just
thought it was a funny, filthy song. The great tragedy of youth is
not that it is wasted on the young but because it fails to
recognize the profound truth in the vulgarity and blasphemy it
loves so much.

Chapter Seventeen: Close
Encounters Will Test Lovers

Something sexy and strange
had come over the residents of Brannaska.

These were gatherings for
friends, crushes, flirtations, ex’s, drinking buddies, and
high-school reunions. There was renewed interest in sex. Trigger
was all over his girlfriend, Gosha’s nocturnal wanderings (and
peeping!) had been more erotically rewarding, and Cedric and
Julianna couldn’t keep their hands off of one another.

They were in the parish
house.

This was a big step in
their relationship, being daring enough to sneak around and into
one another’s most private places. The risk of being caught only
enhanced the appeal of the sex.

Furthermore, they were
doing it in the morning, after not being satiated the evening
before. Light streamed through the windows and both of them found
this unbearably erotic.

Father Briar liked being in
control; this was newfound and both of them were enjoying the
discovery. Father Briar had been making her undress in front of
him. There was something so wonderful about the female form; did
his fellow priests know what they were missing?

“I’m not taking off my
clothes by myself again,” she informed him, stubborn and
sexy.

“Fair is
fair, I suppose,” he admitted, and stood up, and slowly took his
shirt off. This brought a smile to her face. His body was still
young and firm and strong, his skin free of blemishes, and his cock
stiffening.

She took
off her bra. It was a new one for her, unhooking in the front. This
he found impossibly and inexplicably sexy.