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Becoming Father Michael is a complete fantasy and any resemblance to anyone, or any location or convent is completely unintentional.
It was a wonderful night so it was, that first one at the Convent, I was allowed a candle so I could see to have a shower and then the mother superior sent me to my room where Sister Martha and Sister Mary waited for me and around nine o’clock I was snuggled down in that wonderful soft bed with a wonderful soft warm nun each side of me.
I must have slept an hour before I woke with Mary’s hand around my balls, “Can’t you sleep Michael?” she asked.
“Not when you’re a wanking of me in my sleep no!” I explained.
“Well it looked so uncomfortable all stuck right up like a tent pole,” she explained.
“Look be quiet will you or to sure we’ll waken Martha,” I warned.
“You have done,” Martha said, “Leave the poor lad alone Mary.”
“But he’ll mess the bed!” Mary exclaimed.
“Then have him poke you,” Martha suggested, “But let me sleep.”
“Maybe I could poke you instead Martha?” I said.
“Later maybe,” she said, “Good night.”
“You’d rather poke that slut than poke me!” Mary hissed.
“To help the poor girl relax for her sleep Mary, just for a kindness,” I explained, “Maybe tomorrow it’ll just be the two of us.”
“Oh no Michael,” Sister Martha added, “That’s a sin, man lying with an unmarried woman, no Sister Ignacious she looked all though the good book and nowhere does it say a man should not lie with two women.”
“Are you sure you have that right?” I asked curiously.
“Indeed Michael, shall you check for yourself?” Mary asked.
“No, I’ll bear it well enough,” I agreed.
“You’ll poke me then Michael?” Mary asked.
“Yes, the Lord’s work is never done, will you lie on your back?” I asked.
“Of course, you wouldn’t want me hanging from the ceiling would you?” she asked.
As it happened picturing Sister Mary hanging naked from the ceiling by her feet, hanging upside down with her cunt at head height ready for licking was a grand thought to swell me cock some more, “No you’re alright,” I agreed.
“Sister Mary, have you no decorum,” Sister Martha asked, “Hanging from the ceiling for heavens sake, why but there’s no hook.”
“She was joking Sister Martha,” I assured her, “Only joking Sister.”
“Well let me sleep,” Martha insisted.
“You’ll sleep better for a good poking Sister Martha,” I suggested.
“Jesus but your mad for it Michael, but poke Mary if you will,” Martha suggested, “And take your hand off my leg.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake Martha he wants to poke you not me,” Mary explained.
“It’s her turn,” I said reasonably.
“All right,” Martha said, “I give in, just be quick about it Michael.”
I rolled on top of her and found she was nothing but a little liar, why she was red hot for me, her juices was running down between her legs she was so hot and her cunt lips parted like the red sea when Moses went across as my cock sank down in her.
“Ohhhh,” she moaned.
“Will you keep quiet Martha or you’ll be waking the orphans.” Mary scolded.
“Yes quiet Martha,” I ordered.
“You’ll have to help me father,” Martha suggested.
“And how shall I do that?” I asked.
“Why hold your face against mine to stifle my gasps father,” she said.
“Now that’s a grand idea,” I said and I kissed her lips.
“Jesus it’s worse than animals!” Mary complained as she heard us in the darkness, “I’ll be wanting some of that Michael, don’t be wasting it all on her.”
“There plenty of the good lord’s seed left for you Mary,” I assured her, “Don’t you be worrying,” but the thing was I slept right through till 6 a.m and never even woke for morning prayers.
They woke me in time for the nine o’clock mass, “Father Rafferty looked in earlier but you was so peaceful we didn’t like to waken you,” Martha assured me.
“Oh, right, what did he say?” I asked. “You’re to sit in on confession after the mass,” Sister Martha said, “And be sure you keep the secrets,”
“Just tell us the juicy bits,” Sister Mary laughed.
“And no telling the Guards,” Martha chuckled.
“Have I to wear my robes?” I asked.
“To be sure,” said Mary, “For you’d look very odd walking to church in your birthday suit!”
Somehow they got me a full Irish breakfast, bacon, egg, sausage. fried bread, tomato and a refreshing glass of Guiness.
I found father Rafferty and listened to a confession.
“Ah Mrs Doyle,” he said, “I think we both know you didn’t have sex with the entire shinty team,” he said, “The good lord want’s your confession not what you’re wanting to happen.”
“Well, in me mind I had the sex with them,” she said, “Surely that’s a sin?”
“But just a harmless one,” he reassured her, “Now how’s the family, how many is it now, thirteen?”
“Ah to be sure we need a bigger house Father,” she said, “Seamus and I have no privacy at all what with thirteen children and two bedrooms.
“Ah well count your blessings,” Father Rafferty explained,” If you’d the privacy you’d have more than just the thirteen,”
“That Hatay Escort don’t stop him father,” she said, “What with him being on the building, Seamus don’t need bed he just paws at me when I take his lunch and a handy bedroom or against a doorway or the wall or the floor, there’s hardly any where we haven’t tried for another child.”
“Well that’ll be fine,” Father Rafferty agreed, “Shall we say three hail Marys and a nice bottle of good Irish Whisky, for the orphans you understand, to keep the cold out.”
“Thank you father, I knew you’d be understanding!” Mrs Doyle assured him, “I’ll get the whiskey as soon as the pub opens.”
She left the confessional and I asked Father Rafferty about her, “Ah she’s a one she is, such an imagination,” he chuckled,”Now hush yourself and listen to the next confession.”
“Jesus father, I reckon I’d have a hard on the whole time,” I told him.
“Ah to be sure tis a sore trial,” Father Rafferty admitted, “I always have a bucket handy just in case, but maybe you should leave the confessional to me and go and see Mr’s O’Reagan’s daughter Flora,” he said “Its down Gilmore Street number 33.”
“Is it far,” I asked.
“Oh no, hardly a quarter mile,” he said, “You can’t miss it it’s off the Ballyshannon road.” I set off on foot and ten minutes later I knocked and Mrs O’Reagan answered the door, “Oh Father! You’ve cum!”
I looked down I never even had a hard on then it clicked, she just meant I’d come to see her.
“Oh yes, Father Rafferty said I should stop round,” I said.
“Ah indeed, he’s a wonderful man,” Shed said her bosom heaving, “Not that Father O’Neil before him wasn’t a wonderful father, strong, hansom.”
“All right mother!” Flora said, as she came downstairs, she was thin like a stick insect, not a trace of tit on her hardly and she had this severe look about her and bobbed black hair,”But what about this one.”
“He’s training for an accountant,” the mother said.
“Are you that?” she asked.
“To be sure,” I said, “The Priesthood is my calling though.”
“Her man, Patrick,” her mother explained, “He’s all right but he doesn’t have the learning.”
“He’s thick as two short planks Mother!” Flora cried, “I don’t want my kids to go to Franklin Elementary Mother, I want them to go to St Fineans Grammar, all dressed up in their fine jackets.”
“So do you want me to do?” I asked.
“Are you sure you’re not the village idiot in disguise?” the Mother said, “Poke her of course you idiot, take her upstairs and poke her.”
“But Mother, he’s no brighter than Patrick.” Flora protested.
“And you have an hour before your Da and Pat get back from Murphy’s bar,” the Mother said, “What’s it to be?”
“Do I get a say in this?” I asked, “Is this not Adultery?”
“No Father, same as Father O’Neil was her daddy, you’ve your duty to do,” the mother said, “Or should we see the pastor at the Free Church?”
“No, I shall do the Lords bidding,” I said, “If you’d like a private audience?”
“Well she won’t want an audience!” the mother exclaimed, “Go on up the stairs the pair of you!” she says.
Flora was as thin as a rake, she went in the bedroom and shut the curtains, “Put the chair under the door handle,” she said so I did and she pulled off her cardigan, and there wasn’t hardly enough tit there to keep her bra in place.
“Your not to look Father!” she exclaimed, as she turned the photo of her Ma and Pa on the bedside around to face the wall.
“Why not, the Lord made us all in his own image, except one or two maybe,” I says, “So don’t be embarrassed.”
“Patrick says there’s no meat on me,” she said, “I swear he’d of married a boy if her could,” she said and she took down her skirt and she had stockings and suspenders and then she undid the suspenders to pull down her knickers and there was her arse all angry and red around her arse hole.
“Do you see father?” she asked.
“You poor child,” I said though she was a good four years older than me, “Let my rod and staff comfort you!”
“Ooh Father!” she laughed, “Mother said you’d say that!” she said and she turned towards me and there was this great hairy mass on her belly and there wasn’t a sign of of cunt to be seen.
“Do you not have a razor Flora?” I asked.
“Patrick likes me hairy,” she says.
“But he pokes you up the arse?” I queried.
“That he does, I don’t want his stupid children do I?” she asked.
I pulled off my robe and she gasped as my cock reared, “Oh Father!” she gasped, “It’s too big!”
“Ah well its the Lord’s way,” I said, “Maybe it only goes half way but I can still squirt me stuff right in where it’s needed.”
“Well don’t tell me Father,” she says, “Prove it!”
I hung me robe on the back of the door and I grabbed her, there was nothing to her so I lifted her with my hands under her arms and she grabbed my cock and next thing it was against her hairy slit so I lowered her down, “Ohhh father you’re splitting me in half.”
“Pray Flora,” I said, “Our father!”
“For what we are about to receive,” she laughed and than she was slipping down me cock and her arms were around me and her Hatay Escort Bayan legs and she started humping up and down on my cock, “Go on father squirt me!” she said.
It was too much fun by half I was having, “No not yet,” I says.
“Patrick would have shot his wadge by now,” she said.
“Ah but up your arse,” I said, “Now quiet down and let us make this baby in a proper calm respectful way.” I says.
“Father,” she asked, “Can we lie down?”
“Yes,” I said, “For to be sure ’tis a strain on my back,” and I gently laid her on the bed, “Better?” I asked.
“Yes, now you can give me a proper banging,” she said talking all dirty and as I looked her little nipples were standing up like thimbles off of her chest, and her cunt was nice and loose and warm and wet and I started banging for all I was worth.
“Oh Father,” she gasps.
“What my child?” I asked as I banged away.
“It’s like heaven!” she says.
“Now think of the good lord and pray,” I said and with that I let fly inside her.
“Are you all right up there Father?” Mrs O’Reagan asked.
“Ah, yes indeed Mrs O’Reagan,” I assured her, “We’re through praying so we are.” I said and I slipped me robes on double quick.
“I sometimes think I ought to have another babby,” Mrs O’Reagan explained as I slipped down the stairs.
“Ah well moderation in all things that’s what my mother says,” I assured her, “What with the likes of Mrs Haggerty having thirteen, and in a two bedroom house and all.”
“You’re probably right Father ,” she says, “More’s the pity.” as she stood there all bosom and wantonness.
I made my escape, ‘It’s a car I’m needing,’ I decided that or a push bike as having got outside the house I had barely gone fifty yards before a couple of drunkards came around the corner, and the one looked almightily like the older version of her Dad’s photograph, and the other pretty stupid but he sure looked like he was handy with his fists.
“Are ye in a hurry father?” the older one asked.
“Ah yes to be sure,” I said, “I need a Guiness before the afternoon mass,” I confessed.
“Well Murphy’s is a bit lively,” the younger one said showing his bruised knuckle.
“Ah,” I said, “Maybe I’ll stick to wine,” but I hurried on.
Father Rafferty was outside Murphy’s sat in his Ford car, “Are you done Michael, where have you been?” he asked.
“With Flora of course father,” I assured him.
“Well there’s the Lord’s work to be done,” he assured me, “There’s Mrs Donovan to see down in Ferdarren,” he said, “Now hop in I’ll drive you.”
“I thought I might have a pie and a pint for dinner father?” I asked.
“After Michael after,” he said, “There’s the Lords work to be done.”
I hopped in the car and he set off, “Ah Michael,” he said, “To be sure you could use a fine car like this.”
“Indeed,” I said, “But one with a few less dents maybe?”
“Ah no Michael, for a young chap such as yourself is bound to have the odd bump,” he assured me, “And there’s a fine new Ford Corsair at Crawford’s so there is.”
“Corsair Father?” I asked.
“To be sure, it light green and it’s a lovely car so it is Michael and it has the disc brakes and the Michelin tyres,” he babbled on, “And this one would suit you fine,” he explained.
“Yes father,” I agreed, as he revved the motor and off we went down towards Ferdarren, except he turned left instead of right and we went past Crawfords garage with his nearly falling out of the car for looking.
“There Michael, there!” he shouted and jabbed his finger at the garage we were passing, “Do you see it?” he asked, “There!” and we went right to the wrong side of the road.
I grabbed the steering wheel and dragged us away from the milk cart we were set to hit, “Father!” I cried, “Watch the road for gods sake!”
“Ah the good Lord will provide Michael,” he said, “But did you see her?” he said and he drove on as if nothing had happened.
Mrs Donovan was not a happy lady, “I’ve brought young Michael my curate to help you pray for a child now Bridie,” he said.
“There’s no need Father, it’s only a year since we married, there’s plenty of time for children,” she said as she stood at the door looking all disapproving.
“Well have you seen the doctor?” he asked.
“No,” she insisted, “There’s plenty of time Father, there’s no hurry, no hurry at all.”
“Well, your mother said you should pray for a child Bridie, and I said I would pray with you, but well, I have duties,” Father Rafferty said, “And so perhaps this is a good chance for young Father Michael to pray with you instead.”
“Yes Mrs Donovan,” I agreed, “I’ll pray with you if you’d like.”
“Well I wouldn’t like, good day!” she snapped and she slammed the door!
“Bridie, I’ll tell your mother!” Father Rafferty warned and she opened the door again.
“All right!” she agreed, “You had better come in Father Michael.” she said frostily.
“Well, I’ll see you in an hour Michael.” he agreed and he climbed back into his Ford car and he shot off down the road like Lucifer himself was chasing him.
“Am I allowed in?” I asked.
“Just keep your Escort Hatay hands to yourself,” Bridie said and she invited me in.
“You don’t want children then Bridie,” I asked.
“Mrs Donovan to you Father,” she said, she had to be thirty, slim not much in the way of tits and short dark hair she was no pin up but she smelled clean and fresh.
“So you haven’t been letting Mr Donovan poke you?” I surmised.
“Are you a complete idiot, have you not heard of con-doms,” she said as if condom was two words.
“That’s a sin,” I said, “Why?”
“Maybe I like humping,” she said, with a twinkle in her eye.
“Jesus,” I said, “That’s.”
“Ha I’ve shocked you!” she laughed.
“I.” I said not knowing what to think.
“And Father Rafferty sent you to hump me?” she questioned.
“If you like,” I said.
“Well I don’t like.” she said and with that we heard this car being driven by a lunatic coming up the road.
“It’s Father Rafferty!” I said, “Upstairs quick!”
There was this sickening screech of skidding tyres.
“You’re right. come on!” she said and we slipped upstairs.
“Michael!” Father Raferty cried, as he banged on the door.
“We’re praying father,” I explained shouting down the stairs.
“Well will you let me in, you’ve a television have you not,” he demanded, “And there’s the Pope on I think,”
I went down and let him in, “Thank you!” he said, “I thought Mrs Fergus down the road away had the television but it seems not,” he said, “But back to your praying.”
I went up, “He’s listening,” I said, “He’ll be expecting me to poke you.”
“So?” she says.
“So I’d better poke you?” I queried.
“It’s sinful,” she said.
“The Lord will forgive us,” I said.
“Good, for you’ve to wear one of these,” and she pulled the devils own creation a box of 1000 French condoms from under the bed in her bedroom, “No better use two just in case.”
“Mrs Donovan!” I protested.
“Bridie,” she said and her cardigan was off and her blouse and then her brassiere and the sweetest softest tits and man could dream of and then she pushed her skirt down and she had the tights on and not suspenders and then there was her belly and her cunt all with the hair shaved right off like a new born babe.
My cock sprung up like a snake charmer’s cobra.
“Jesus, I should have got a box of extra large,” she said as he reared, “If I’d known you was going to poke me with that monster.” she added.
“Yes, I’ll be with you,” I said as I slipped from me robe, “I’ve never done the rubber before,” I said.
“Well it’s the rubber on or it’s up me arse,” she said dismissively.
“Then rubber it is,” I said and she took one and she rolled it on me straining cock with her tiny fingers, like angel’s fingers it was rolling it down ad then a second she rolled over the first and she lay down for me naked.
I felt her tits and a surge of passion surged through me, it was as if Jesus himself whispered, “Fuck the end out of the rubber and give me a good catholic child,” and as I climbed on that bed and poked her I tried everything I knew to bust that rubber wide open.
“Will you pray some more quietly!” Father Rafferty shouted and he banged on the ceiling, but the spirit of the lord was with me and I banged into her like a piston of traction engine till she cried out.
“Fuck me Father fuck me,” she cried.
“Pray,” I said.
“I’m past praying father, did you not feel the rubber split?” she asked.
“No,” I said, “Oh god, no!” but it was too late and me stuff came a squirting and a pumping and I had no control at all.
“Sorry,” I said as I pulled out.
“Oh god,” she says praying at last and then as I pulled me cock right out of her she says, “Oh god in heaven be praised, it’s a miracle,” and there on me cock was the split rubber but the second one the one inside was still there and full of creamy cum.
“It was a warning,” I said.
“Next time I’ll get some extra large,” she said, “My brother works in the north,” she said, “They’re legal there.”
“Right,” I says not knowing what the hell she’s on about and I heads for the bathroom to wash me cock.
“Well that’s a fine Papal speech,” says Bridie as she gets down stairs and catches Father Rafferty watching the afternoon’s football from the Saturday repeated, “Is that the Pope himself about to take a penalty?”
“It’s over, I was waiting for Michael,” he lied, “Come on now Michael, there’s the Lord’s work to be done!”
I said goodbye to Bridie and followed Father Rafferty to the car, “I’ve still not had me dinner,” I said, “All this praying is taking it out of me.”
“But you had your breakfast not three hours ago,” Father Rafferty exclaimed, “Are your legs hollow?”
“No father!” I replied, “But it’s hard work!”
“Ah well,” he says, “And where the hell do you think you’ll get fed of a Sunday dinner time?”
“The Pub? Father,” I suggested.
“Ah, well you stay off the Guiness,” he said, “I’ll get us a pie each and it’s the lemonade for you Michael!” except now we were going away from the Pub and so although we was doing around fifty miles an hour up the hill away from Ferdarren he swung the steering wheel around and hauled on the brake between the seats and shouted “Handbrake Turn Michael, just like a rally car!” and we swung around sideways and went straight up the grass verge and half way through the hedge!
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