A Series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

"What

"Fancy a ghost choosing to haunt your room," Barry chuckled. "Not sure who I should feel more sorry for, you or the ghost!"

"It's not funny Barry! I was almost bloody shitting myself. It was terrifying!" Gordon snapped back.

"Aye, the sight of you in your y-fronts is enough to terrify anything!"

"That must be why it never followed you into our room," Ahmed interrupted, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Presently,

"Yes, he just appeared in our room when we were er,” Reverend Morris began, and then he started to blush.

"Unpacking

"We didn't see any ghost, but the washbasin in our room doesn't work," Josh said. "The water won't come out. Just black stuff!"

"Same here," Gordon replied. "I got a sink full of soil!"

"According

"Gunpowder?

"Hmm,"

"Don't eat any of that scrambled egg," Gordon said. "Apart from looking like dog puke, it tastes like it too."

"Thanks,"

Reverend Morris looked at Jenna and shook his head. "Well, maybe the trip to the museum will be more, enjoyable?"

She smiled back and squeezed his thigh under the table. "I'm sure it will."

The small group boarded the minibus, ready for the short journey into the center of Epworth.

"What's this place we're going to?" Jenna asked, as Reverend Morris checked his smartphone.

"Well

A chorus of groans echoed through the bus.

Gordon

"Oh Simon, this is so disappointing. I really wanted to see the birthplace of the Wesleys!" Jenna sighed.

"I

"I'd have more fun wandering round Tesco," Gordon muttered to Barry."

"I'd have more fun with the vicar's wife," Barry replied.

"Oho! You've changed your tune. What happened to 'dream on, she's way too old for you?' You're older than I am!"

"Yes well, that was before." Barry paused.

A Series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

This Sunday had brought the heaviest rain so far of 2023. The weather had caused a notable drop in the number of people attending this morning's church service, Reverend Morris noticed.

Today was Candlemas, which commemorated the ritual purification of Mary, forty days after the birth of her son Jesus. This day also marked the ritual presentation of the baby Jesus to God in the Temple at Jerusalem. It reminded Jenna of her own sacred ritual of fertility, Mentula Cōleī Baptism’. She’s thankful to be so blessed by God, to have such devoted church elders guiding her spiritual development.

After the service, and the usual tea, biscuits and chit chat in the church hall, Reverend Morris was eager to return to the vicarage. His wife had given him "that look"; and he knew what that meant. It had been a week since they'd made love, and as he had a feeling Jenna would be more than up for "a little afternoon delight," as she termed it.

Outside, the late January winter rain was still lashing down. Despite the vicarage being a five minute walk from the church, the vicar and his wife had neglected to bring an umbrella with them. By the time they arrived home, they were both soaked to the bone.

Reverend Morris' hair was wet, and the legs of his trousers clung damply to him, and the back of his black shirt was also soaked. He figured he was going to come down with a nasty cold if he didn't get into some dry clothes right away. Jenna evidently had the same thought, and they went straight upstairs to the master bedroom.

She opened the wardrobe doors, and he switched on a bedside lamp. Shivering, they stripped out of their wet clothes.

When they were nearly undressed, they glanced at each other. Their eyes locked.

Still, they didn't speak. They didn't need to.

He took her in his arms, and they kissed lightly at first, tenderly. Her mouth was warm and soft and vaguely flavored with communion wine.

She clutched him, pulled him closer, her fingertips digging into the muscles of his back. She pushed her mouth hard against his, scraped his lip with her teeth, thrust her tongue deep, and abruptly their kisses grew hot, demanding.

Something seemed to snap in him, and in her, too, for their desire was suddenly marked by animal urgency. They responded to each other in a hungry, almost frenzied fashion, hastily casting off the last of their clothes, pawing at each other’s wet bodies, squeezing, stroking. She nipped his shoulder with her teeth. He gripped her pert buttocks and kneaded them with uncharacteristic crudity, but she didn't wince or try to pull away; indeed, she pressed even more insistently against him, rubbing her breasts over his chest and grinding her hips against his. Their wet, tussled hair and slippery bodies wrestled to seduce each other into submission. The soft whimpers that escaped from her were not sounds of pain; they clearly expressed her eagerness and need.

In bed, his energy was manic, and his staying power amazed him. He was insatiable, and so was she. They thrust and thrashed and flexed and tensed in perfect harmony, as if they were not only joined but fused, as if they were a single organism, shaken by only one set of stimuli instead of two. Every vestige of civilization slipped from them, and for a long while the only noises they made were animal sounds: panting; groaning; throaty grunts of pleasure; short, sharp cries of excitement. At last Jenna uttered the first word to pass between them since they had left the church:

"Oh my God!"

And again, arching her slender, graceful body, tossing her head from side to side on the pillow: "Yes, yes!" It was not merely an orgasm to which she was saying yes, for she'd already had a couple of those and had announced them with only ragged breathing and soft mewling. She was saying yes to life.

The vicar repeated the word as if chanting a sacred incantation,"Yes, yes, yes!"as he emptied his cum into her a second time.

Spent, they stretched out on their backs, side by side on the disheveled bed. For a long time they listened to the rain on the roof and to the persistent thunder, which was no longer loud enough to rattle the windows. Wind howled around the side of the house.

Jenna lay with her eyes closed, her face completely relaxed.

"Lovely service this morning, Simon!" She said at last. "Great choice of hymns."

"It certainly was. I think my sermon went down well. Shame about the weather."

"Hmm, I don't know - I think the rainy weather makes me much hornier than normal!" It isn’t even February, but my winter ‘cabin fever’ has already set in. Get ready for more of this ravishing sex, my stud!

"Happy Candlemas, Jenna," Reverend Morris replied.

“Thine be the glory hole!”

More light-hearted goings-on with vicar's wife Jenna. New year, new naughtiness, and a dull coach trip organized by the church might turn out to be more fun than expected! God works in mysterious ways. For Jenna’s husband, it was relief from a nymph wife who had few other ways to occupy herself, besides sexual romps, at all hours of the day and night.

"I'm so pleased that Alpha and Omega coach holidays have re-started their short breaks," Reverend Simon Morris excitedly exclaimed. "I've just booked us on the three-day trip to Epworth!"

A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.

By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

"In her, shoot fast," Principal Chief Massasoit directed, using what words he knew so that he would not surprise or confuse his strange hosts, "I want in her, my first use to take."

"First use?!" Miss Americana managed to whimper, in horror, in between the moans and yelps Squanto's big thrusting cock was forcing out of her. But she didn't have long to contemplate that.

"That is no problem at all, my lord!" Squanto replied. Relaxing himself he thrust his enormous hardened cock deep into Miss Americana and, with a groan of ecstasy, unleashed his potent Pawtuxet seed upon her defenseless womb.

"Oh, Great Justice!" Americana groaned, her eyes rolling up in her head, as she felt the pulsing of his great cock inside her, and knew it meant that his sperm was flooding into her.

He pulled out and then stepped aside, his long cock dripping.

"I have lubricated her for you, my Sachem," he said, gesturing towards Americana's cunt, which, gaping slightly wider than before, was also already releasing a long tendril of his semen to dangle down between her thighs.

"Very good!" Massasoit said. He stepped forward and took up his own position behind her. Reaching out he stroked her toned bubble-ass, and shook his head. "This," he said, squeezing Americana's bulging silky cheeks, "is a very rich gift, indeed!"

With that he pushed himself up against her leaking cunt, and also entered her.

"Oh, my God," Miss Americana whimpered, as she too discovered Squanto was not to be a unique case. Her entire body shivered, as the great chief's enormous copper-colored cock sank deep up inside her helplessly quivering cunt.

"That's a sin!" one of the Pilgrims sitting near her chided, and continued eagerly to watch.

At the sight that their chief had accepted the gift and that peace had been restored, the waiting column of Wampanoag warriors let out a great whoop of glee. Then, hoisting their burdens, they marched into the Plymouth settlement. The Pilgrims greeted them warmly, food was handed out, the Pilgrims contributing their meager stocks of beer and bread to the natives' largesse. Soon the great feast was in progress, with Wampanoag and Pilgrim dining and chatting together, sampling the first dishes as the Pilgrim women and their daughters and servants worked to prepare the main courses.

And through it all, bent over at one end of the great table at which the First Thanksgiving was being laid, Miss Americana continued to get nailed. Massasoit's great cock, in his eagerness, lasted only slightly longer than Squanto had. But there was plenty more where that had come from. He was followed by Samoset, the Sagamore of the Abanaki tribe, who kept closer tabs on the strange new colonists while the Sachem was busy with other matters. After Samoset, the Sachem's honor guard took their turns; and after they had finished, every warrior in the entire column came up one by one and also partook in Miss Americana's flesh.

The Pilgrims, with their Godly morals, piously abstained, but this did not stop the Pilgrim men's faces from showing deep jealousy, that their native guests got to enjoy two great helpings of Thanks-giving bounty instead of just one.

In between their own turns upon Miss Americana's body, Massasoit, Squanto, and Samoset took their own seats at the table of the Elders, and with it, a privileged view of the action up between Americana's muscular shivering thighs, as the pale-skinned beauty got nailed by one long uncut native cock after another after another. Between her spread thighs they could also see her enormous breasts hanging down low and swaying wildly over the table as she squealed and squirmed under her furious and unchecked invasions, as if her enormous milk-filled udders were blessing the heavily-laden table with their own generous bounty.

"Does this disturb you, Pilgrim?" one native who had also picked up some English asked. Sitting down after his own turn inside her he found an open seat before Americana's enormous swaying udders, smoking a post-coital pipe. "I thought your God does not approve of this sort of thing."

The Pilgrim shook his head. "Nah," he said. "God makes everyone for a purpose. I think it's pretty clear what he made this one for."

Then, leaning forward, the Pilgrim seized one of Americana's giant breasts and held his glass up under it. He squeezed, discharging a rich squirt of milk from the heroine's hanging fruits into his cup. He took the cup back, threw it back, and then licked some of the delicious white super-milk off his lips.

"Well, that and this!" he said, as he held the glass up.

Seeing yet another way in which the mysterious woman could be used in a celebration of plenty, other Pilgrims soon came forward to also eagerly sample the fuck-quivering cow's produce. Americana, too busy squealing as she got nailed by one big native cock after another, could do nothing to resist as her big breasts were squeezed and squeezed until finally even those bottomless udders were drained dry.

Eventually, the entire feast had been consumed and everyone was full and sated. Even Americana's belt-boosted strength eventually failed her, and after eighty or so consecutive fucks up against the table her knees finally buckled and she sank down, a quivering wreck. She had taken so much cum inside her that rivers seemed to flow down her thighs, and a huge puddle had formed, which her knees landed in with twin pearly splashes like comets entering an ocean of gooey white fluid.

But though she was spent, she had not even begun to exhaust the collective vigor of the Wampanoag delegation. Flipping her over, the warriors positioned her on her back at the edge of the First Thanksgiving table, which, the feast having been largely consumed, was now otherwise covered in a great mass of empty used bowls, plates, and tableware. Then, having positioned her, they continued nailing her almost-limp body face-to-face upon the table, as, around them, the dessert course finally began to be served.

The tight order of the early stages of the feast had by now broken down, and Elder and commoner, Indian and Pilgrim were now all mixing freely. Copious quantities of beer had also flowed along with the food, and everyone was now quite contentedly drunk, as while the Puritans were against many things, booze was not actually one of them.

"I say Reverend," the short Pilgrim commented to William Brewster, as they stood side by side near the entrance of a house and watched Americana's continuing show. "Everyone has eaten their full, except for the harem girl. It seems rather unsuited to a great Thanksgiving like this to leave one, even a harlot and serial adulteress such as she, unsated."

"True," the Reverend said. "But the food has already been cleared. What is there for her to eat?"

"There is, one set of sausages that have not been touched," the tall Pilgrim said, finally dropping what they were angling for. "I know that putting them where the Indians are putting theirs is a sin, but what about her mouth. Does that, you know, count?"

"Hmm," the Reverend Brewster said. "Normally I would say yes. However, this is a special festive day, and she was clearly sent by Providence itself to perform exactly this, function, so perhaps, just once." As he saw the brightening expressions on the two Pilgrims' faces, he shook his head, and raised a chiding finger. "However, for the sake of the harmony of our settlement," he added, "it is not just God who must be consulted."

As it happened, the Reverend's own wife was at that moment emerging from the house behind them, carrying two freshly-baked pies. The Reverend's sons, Truelove Brewster and Wrestling Brewster, trailed behind her, carrying another pie each.

"What say you, Mary?" the Reverend asked her, knowing full well her sharp ears would have overheard everything.

"Hmm," Mary Brewster said. She glanced at the other Pilgrim wives scattered about the festival, of which there were not many. Between the composition of the original complement of settlers and the terrible toll of deaths that had occurred over the previous winter, there were now a great deal more men than women in the colony. The few other wives looked at her, significantly, saying nothing but their expressions communicating much. Nodding with understanding, Mary turned back to her husband.

"I know that men build up a great deal of, pressure, if they are not given release," she said. "So, I would say it is fine if the unmarried or widowed men sate themselves while sating the whore. It might reduce, future problems. But the married men will be sated by their wives, or else!" She lifted up a finger and glared.

"Of course," Reverend Brewster said. He could not quite keep the disappointment out of his voice that he would not be among those allowed to partake.

But before he could give general approval for the new plan, Mary caught one of the other wives widening her eyes to get her attention. The silent wife nodded a couple times, significantly, towards Americana's moaning lips, and then looked at Mary meaningfully. Mary nodded.

"There is one other condition," she added, hastily. "We good women of the colony have had to endure our husbands watching the whore get nailed, in silence. We have done so, for the future of our settlement. However, we must get compensated." She looked at her husband, her eyes boring into him. "So after the unmarried men have fed her their main course, we will feed her dessert, of the pies we have long had prepared between our legs, but rarely if ever had eaten. Is this clear?"

The two junior Pilgrims' eyes widened, as if they had never imagined such a thing.

"Good heavens!" the tall one said, fingers going to his own lips.

"Is, is that permitted under Heaven's law, Reverend?" the short one asked.

"Uh," Reverend Brewster said. He wracked his memory of the Good Book, trying to think of a clear passage one way or the other. "To be honest," he said, "I'm not sure if the Good Lord considers that sex, or not,"

"Then there should be no problem, should there?" Mary asked testily.

"I guess not," he said, deciding to err on the side of marital harmony over strict doctrine for once. God's forgiveness, after all, was infinite. His wife's, on the other hand,

Of course, before the natives 'peace offering' could be used in this manner, clearance first had to be gotten from Massasoit. But the Great Sachem, in a very relaxed state having thoroughly drained his own scrotum over the course of five separate sessions within Miss Americana, was in a magnanimous mood, and with a simple nod of his bronzed head and wave of his hand signaled his approval.

So it was that as the pies got laid out, cut, and consumption began eagerly, one by one Pilgrim men began to ascend the table. As with the Indians, they went in strict order of rank, and, his own wife Rose being one of the casualties of the previous winter, this meant that Myles Standish was first in line.

"Open wide, and say your grace," he advised her, as having preemptively removed his pants, he came in for a landing on her moaning tongue.

Miss Americana whimpered loudly as his cock entered her mouth. Pure instinct took over almost immediately. Wrapping her lips tight around his respectable but, compared to some of the monsters that had been in her cunt that day, modestly-sized cock, she began to suck it enthusiastically.

"Oh, yes!" Myles said. He lifted his eyes heavenward, as she slurped and slurped upon him. "T-truly, this wench was sent by the Lord!" he said, before erupting down her throat and giving her, her first load of cum to swallow.

It would, of course, not be the last. As the lesser Pilgrims had pointed out, while everyone else had had their fill, at this First Thanksgiving Americana had had none. Now, they made up for that. One after another, unmarried Pilgrim men climbed up and, sometimes still eating pieces of pie as they did so, inserted their fresh sausages down between her lips. Americana moaned, and blushed, and sucked each one as vigorously and worshipfully as she could, as if they were truly her gifts from God. One warm protein shake after another poured down her throat, finally filling up her until-now-empty belly, and each and every one she gulped down with a vigor equal to the holiday. Then after each one finished she opened wide and, extending out her tongue, began putting preparatory licks upon the next incoming cock that inevitably replaced the last one in the never-ending cornucopia of cock she was being served.

In the meantime, watching all this, and knowing that based on Mary Brewster's pronouncement they would not get their own full Thanksgiving repast any other way, one by one the married Pilgrim men snuck away from the party with their now equally enthused and eager wives, into the bushes or the backs of the more remote houses, to do what married couples do. Although, given the inspirations provided by Americana's marathon performance, they generally put a little more effort and creativity into it than they typically had. One by one, flush-faced and hand-in-hand they returned to the center of the festival, in a few cases with the seeds of another few thousand modern descendants quietly germinating under the Pilgrim women’s' hastily re-lowered skirts.

So it was that, when

 A heroine goes back in time to a sticky-fingered situation.

By Mark V Sharp, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The current reigning Miss Americana is a college student who forces Professor Whirter to send her back to the First Thanksgiving; so she can help Flag Girl with a history assignment. She gets led before the elders of the colony, only for a distraught messenger to run in reporting that the Wampanoag party carrying the majority of the food has turned back. Having spotted Miss Americana, they have concluded the colony cannot be so hard up for food as they claim if it contains one as well-endowed as she is.

In order to restore history, Miss Americana presents herself as a peace offering to restore Massasoit's favor. She ends up being a feature of the event; from her place at the end of the long Thanksgiving table. For the entire duration of the famous feast, a seemingly endless succession of Wampanoag warriors indulge in her charms.

Finally, after everyone has had their fill, she is left a sprawled devastated wreck upon the gutted feasting table. Alone at last, she gets warped safely back to the present, only to discover that her misadventure will have lasting and historic consequences for the interior of her womb.

"Flag Girl has a school project due, Dr. Whirter," Miss Americana said. "She's flunking, so we need a guaranteed A. So I want you to send me back in time. If we can learn the true history of the First Thanksgiving, then with the report I'll help her write there's no way she can fail."

Professor Whirter shook his head. "Miss Americana!" he gasped. "The time machine is not a toy! You cannot use it for such purposes!"

The mighty superheroine stood before him in his lab. She was resplendent in her defiant costume, which consisted chiefly of a patriotic American Flag bikini. A golden belt, the source of her powers, lay cinched tight about her buxom hips, emblazoned with a bright red A upon its buckle, at the center of her broad flat belly. She wore a star-spangled mask upon her face to protect her secret identity, with a matching A on her forehead. Two red gloves with blue A's on the backs of her hands, and gleaming red boots, completed her ensemble.

Her sidekick Flag Girl stood by her side, in a very similar but less ostentatious version of the same costume, and at least had the decency to blush. Behind Americana's sculpted ass, the platform of the Professor's newly-built time machine waited.

Miss Americana's expression darkened behind her mask. She was a proud woman and not used to being denied. "Professor," she growled, "my, I mean, my good friend Brenda Wade's money pays for this place. Do you really want me to put in a word with her about how, diligently, you use your funding?"

The Professor's blood ran cold, and he caved immediately. "Alright, alright," he said, bowing his head. Obediently, he went to the control panel, and started twisting dials. Flag Girl followed, watching curiously over his shoulder. Smiling smugly at her easy victory, Miss Americana walked up onto the round steel platform of the time machine.

"Ready?" Professor Whirter asked, as the machine started to hum.

"Ready!" Miss Americana announced, proudly. A crackle of energy sounded, and a glow of light enveloped her. When it faded, she was gone.

The wind stirred the woods near the Plymouth colony. It was autumn, and the leaves were red and orange and brown. There was a crackle of energy and a flash of light, and Miss Americana appeared. Sauntering up to the edge of the tree-line, she pulled down a branch and smirked.

Before her, across a large tilled field covered in the remains of harvested wheat, lay a hill. Atop the hill she saw a cluster of rough-hewn houses overlooking a rocky harbor. A second adjacent hill nearby held a simple earthwork with a few cannon emplaced upon it.

"Perfect," she cooed.

There came a rustling in the brush behind her. Two men emerged, one tall and one short. They wore black woolen clothing and broad-brimmed black hats. Each brandished a long flintlock musket.

"Told you I heard a noise," the tall Pilgrim said to the short one.

"Heaven defend us!" the short Pilgrim said, eyes going wide, as he saw what had caused it.

The two Pilgrims gaped in disbelief for several seconds at the stacked scantily-clad beauty that stood before them.

"Hello," Miss Americana said. She started to move towards them.

But at that instant, the short Pilgrim snapped his musket up and pointed it at her. "Stay back, witch!" he said.

His companion seemed less sure. "Are you sure she's a witch?" he asked.

"She's a strange woman hanging out in the woods, what else could she be?" the short one asked.

"Hmm," the tall one said. He looked Americana up and down again. "Well, she has certainly cast a spell on my phallus so,"

He suddenly snapped his musket up, and cocked back the flint. "Get on your knees and put your hands up, witch!" he said. "No speaking hexes, either!"

Miss Americana sighed, and shook her head, as she looked down the barrels of the two Pilgrims' long guns. Given the protections of her belt, she had absolutely nothing to fear from bullets. "You boys are making a big mistake," she cooed at them, as she cracked her knuckles and prepared to use her superhuman might to subdue them. "Fortunately I can correct it,"

But suddenly, a noise crackled in the earpiece of the communication system embedded in her earrings and choker.

"Miss Americana!" Professor Whirter's voice said, rising and falling from time distortion as he spoke to her from the viewing panel of his time machine. "You cannot harm anyone in this period!" he said. "Given their lack of medical care and poor nutrition, one punch could be deadly. And each of these men may have tens of thousands of descendants in our modern time, one of which just might be you! If you lay a finger upon them you might well erase yourself from history!"

"Oh," Miss Americana gulped. "Right,"

She looked back and forth between the two men and their guns. She swallowed, but realized she truly had no choice. Getting summoned back immediately, in front of the two witnesses, could hardly disturb the time line much less.

"On second thought," she said, "I surrender."

She went down onto her knees before them, and put her hands up.

The taller Pilgrim kept his gun on her, while the shorter Pilgrim came forward. He had a set of iron manacles he had brought on his patrol, in case they should happen upon a hostile person spying on the colony and have a chance to take him prisoner. While his partner covered him, he dragged Americana's hands behind her curvy back and manacled them above her ass, having great difficulty keeping his eyes off the panty-swelling contours of her posterior as he did so. Then he put an iron collar on her, to which was attached a length of chain.

"There," he said, backing up. "The cold iron should keep the witch from casting any hexes upon us."

"If you say so," Miss Americana said, standing back up. Due to her superior nutrition and super-human genetics, she stood a head taller than even the taller of them. The shorter Pilgrim's head was level with her enormous breasts, a fact that despite his literally puritanical nature he seemed to find immensely affecting. "Now, please take me to your leaders so that I may work this misunderstanding out."

Eyeing her up and down, the taller one turned to his partner. "Let's take her to the Elders," he said. "Between them, the Reverend, the Governor, and Captain Standish will know what to do with her."

Miss Americana rolled her eyes. "That's what I said, you oafs!" she said, the chains clanking as she shifted her bikini-clad body impatiently.

Leading her by her new chain, the two Pilgrims marched Miss Americana out of the woods and up the hill towards the colony. As she approached, Miss Americana saw that a long table had been set up in the middle of the ring of houses. Although there were seats for over a hundred, only about forty men sat at it, and despite what should have been the impending festivities they looked nervous and emaciated. A short distance away upon the hill she noticed a chillingly extensive grave-yard, with nearly as many shallow and hastily-dug graves as she saw living people in the colony.

A little ways away from the main table, a second table had been set up for the Elders of the community, though here too there were several empty seats. They sat only on one side, facing towards the rest of the community. Miss Americana was brought to stand before the Elders, while the rest of the male colonists gaped at her in disbelief from where they sat. Several women and children rushed out to the doors and windows of the houses where they were working preparing the day's large meal and also stared in wonder at the strange woman being led through their midst, although their faces twisted in jealousy when they saw how their men were gaping at her.

As she was marched forth, Miss Americana wracked her brain desperately, for once, for a non-violent solution to her problems. 'Who would wear a bikini during this time period?' she thought to herself. Then suddenly, with a gasp, she got an idea.

"We caught this strangely-attired and exotically-shaped one snooping about in the north-west forest," the tall pilgrim said.

"We think she's a witch," the short one said. "Shall we put her under some rocks and crush her to find out?"

Stepping forward dramatically, Miss Americana lifted her head high and addressed the elders of the colony directly.

"I am not a witch!" she boldly declared. "I am an Englishwoman, like you! But I was captured by the Turks and kept in their harem. I escaped from the sultan's palace, but was blown by a storm all the way to this shore!"

'That ought to fool these simpletons,' she thought to herself smugly, as she watched them process this.

Before her, at the center of the table, the leading men of the colony sat, pondering her response. She vaguely recognized them, from their historical portraits: William Brewster, the chief spiritual leader of the colony; Myles Standish, the captain of the colonial militia; and William Bradford, the colony's current Governor. They each stroked their beards, considering her.

"Hmm," Captain Standish said. "If what you say is true, and you are no witch, then you should be prepared to prove it so," he said.

"Prove it? And how should I do that?" Miss Americana asked, indignantly.

"If you were a harem girl," Captain Standish said, "then you know how to dance like one. So, show us." He turned his head to the man next to him. "Do you permit this Reverend?" he asked.

Beside him, Reverend Brewster shifted uncomfortably, as he allowed his holy gaze to sweep up and down Americana's flesh. But then he nodded. "If it is necessary to prove whether she is in league with the Devil, then, as God wills it," he said.

Americana gasped. "H-how can you ask me that?" she said.

Governor Bradford looked at the other two, then back to her, and smirked. "The Captain has given his orders and the Reverend has given his permission," he told her. "So if your story is true then prove it." He nodded up to the large table. "You can do it on there, if you would be so kind."

Miss Americana gasped. But then she lifted her head and nodded, haughtily.

"Very well," she said. She held up her wrists behind her back, the manacles clanking on them. "But I cannot dance in these!" she said.

At a quickly-supplied nod from Captain Standish in his role as commander of the militia, the short pilgrim approached and unlocked Americana's manacles. But they left the collar on her. Her chain still held at the far end by the tall pilgrim like a long leash, Miss Americana turned and, with as much grace and dignity as she could muster, marched up to the long table and ascended to stand atop it. Around her the common Pilgrims, male and female alike, gaped up in awe as she came to tower against the sky above them.

Based on the works by Blacksheep. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Manchester Airport was busier than usual today. At Terminal 2, ranks of chairs were filled with passengers desperate to board flights to warmer climates. People from all walks of life headed along the concourse. Black, White, Asian, singles, couples, entire families, a group of American tourists arguing over the most mystical of all British customs -- queuing, cancerously-tanned tourists drifting homeward on the fumes of suntan lotion, pale tourists arriving with the damp smell of a cloudy country clinging to them -and drifting serenely through the crowds, a church organist and his much-younger girlfriend.

"Well this is it!" Miah grinned as she and Gordon made their way to the departure gate.

"Can't wait to get away from this awful weather!" Gordon replied, fiddling with his boarding pass. It was the middle of November. The rain had been relentless for the past few months, and showed no signs of easing.

They boarded the Jet2 737 for the four and a half-hour flight to Tenerife South. They were seated in seats D and E on row 12 in the middle of the aircraft, which happened to be the emergency exit row. To Miah's delight, she'd got the window seat.

"Oh nice!" she exclaimed, noting the larger amount of legroom.

"Yeah, I was determined that we weren't going to be crammed in like sardines for four hours," Gordon replied, putting his hand luggage in the overhead bin. "Also, not wanting to sound like an anti-social old git, but I'd rather not sit next to anyone else either. Last year I had to fly to Poland, to help restore an old organ in Krakow. The outbound flight was a nightmare. Got wedged next to a fifty-stone bloke for two hours."

"Also handy for other things," she winked at him as she fastened her seatbelt. "Our first holiday together. I can't believe it's actually happening. Oh Gordy, this is going to be unforgettable, I just know it."

The flight was fully-booked and it seemed to take an eternity for everyone to board. Gordon observed the other passengers with his usual cynical eye. As a frequent flyer, he'd seen it all. This flight was no different. A middle-aged man wearing a Panama hat was taking his time, fiddling with the overhead bin, completely oblivious to the fact he was blocking the aisle. A family of four behind him tutted impatiently. A couple of rows in front, a young blonde woman with false nails and surgically enhanced lips was taking selfies, no doubt for Instagram. Gordon raised an eyebrow as she pouted and tilted her smartphone, almost elbowing an elderly man in the face. Obviously an influencer of some sort, he assumed. And what could be more glamorous than a selfie on a charter flight to Tenerife?

Ah, the joys of modern air travel, Gordon thought to himself. And as soon as the seatbelt sign light goes out, folk will be up and heading to the loo.

Miah was more interested in looking out of the window.

"I want this to be a wonderful time, Miah. I hope it's as fun for you as it will be for me." He kissed her gently. "A week of sun, sea and lots of food. I just hope you won't be bored. I mean, there are excursions we can go on, you don't need to be stuck round the pool all day..."

She was quick to reassure him. "Gordy, that's perfection to me. Family holidays with my parents were never relaxing. Dad was an action man, always wanting to do adventure stuff -- paragliding, rock climbing. I never wanted to do anything like that. For one thing, I'm terrified of heights. So I was always dumped in the hotel's Kid's Club whilst they went off enjoying themselves. I never liked those activities. I just wanted to be on the beach. Best holiday I had was when I went to Turkey with Jenna and her parents when I was twelve."

"Well our hotel is right on the beach, so you're all sorted!" Gordon smiled back. "A full week away from St. Michael's Church and its organ! Finally my fingers can get a much-needed holiday. Plus, it'll be nice not to have Reverend Morris emailing all the time."

"His sermons never get any better do they?" Miah replied. "Jenna did say she was trying to help him there."

"Hmm, she needs to try harder." Gordon fastened his seatbelt. The vicar's wife had many talents, but improving her husband's sermons didn't seem to be one of them. He cast his mind back to Easter Sunday service. "Is Jenna still in the Guild Voices choir?"

"Yes. She really likes it. Their choirmaster Derek said she has a perfect voice."

Gordon chuckled to himself and wondered whether Jenna had worked her special magic on Derek. The fact she'd been using an egg vibrator during the Easter Sunday service seemed proof of that. Reclining in the seat, his mind briefly flashed back to his encounter with Harriet, his old crush. She'd be back in Australia now. He knew he'd never see her again. It was as if a long-abandoned loose end had finally been tied up -- an open door to his youth had closed. Her wise words about his relationship with Miah had emboldened him. Miah was his future now. No matter what happened. It was time to stop looking back.

He was shaken from his thoughts as the plane's engines spooled up and Miah grabbed his arm. "Oh take-off. I love this part so much. I'm such a big kid. But it's so exciting!"

"Yeah. It is. I love it too."

The 737 roared down the runway and rose into the sky, climbing through the dense cloud.

Even when they had reached cruising altitude and levelled off, Miah's eyes remained fixated on the view from the window. Bright blue and nothing but a blanket of cloud obscuring the land far below.

Seconds after the fasten seatbelts sign went out, some passengers rose from their seats and headed for the toilets, just as Gordon had predicted.

An hour into the flight and the queue for the toilets had gone. The cabin was quiet and most people were glued to their phones and tablets. Miah glanced round. Now seemed the perfect time for one of her fantasies to become reality.

"Hey," she whispered in Gordon's ear. "Fancy joining the Mile High Club?"

He laughed off her suggestion, then realised she was deadly serious. "Wait...you want to?"

A Series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

"Well not long to go until Jesus' birthday," Reverend Morris smiled as he and Jenna finished putting up their Christmas decorations. "Just two weeks. Which reminds me, there's another very special person's birthday a week before the festive season, "

"Oh yes. I'd forgotten!" Jenna replied.

"Jenna my love, it's your 21st! You can't forget something like that. I want it to be a truly memorable birthday for you. Is there anything in particular you'd really, really like? Please give it some thought. Turning 21 is a milestone."

"I will Simon. But I pretty much have everything I've ever wanted already," she smiled, slipping her arms round him.

Later, Jenna was engrossed in reading something on her smartphone.

"Imagine that," she whispered to herself.

Noticing her excitement, Reverend Morris became curious.

"What's grabbed your attention, Jen?"

" Mentula Cōleī Baptism," she blurted out, without thinking.

Her husband looked confused. "Pardon?"

"Oh! It's nothing. Just an old fertility rite of the Eastern Orthodox, in some Asian nations! The Japanese call it bukkake. The loose translation of ‘Mentula Cōleī’  is ‘cock & balls’. And it follows the Anglican tradition of sprinkling. Er, would you like a cup of tea?”

"Sure."

Later, when Jenna was having a shower, Reverend Morris picked up his phone. "Bukkake, she said. How does one spell that, then?" He typed into the browser. Boocaka? Bookaki? Bukacay? On the third attempt, the browser's autocorrect suggested the correct term.

"Oh, so that's how it's spelt. He clicked on a Wikipedia link. "Good God!" He spluttered, as he read all about the act. When he'd finished, he chuckled to himself. "You learn something new every day. The Internet never disappoints, "

At the Wednesday Eucharist, Gordon had just finished the recessional hymn. The midweek service always had a lower turnout than the Sunday service, but numbers had been steadily increasing all year.

"Morning Gordon," Reverend Morris said, appearing at the side of the organ.

"Oh hello vicar," the organist replied. "Quite full today. I don't know, the news says that Christianity is declining in this country but this church seems to be the exception."

"It does, and that pleases me greatly. I can't speak for all churches in England, but knowing that our community here at St. Michael's is thriving, well it lifts my heart. I tend not to pay much attention to the news these days. Too depressing. Difficult times for so many. Strikes, cost of living and all that. Oh and England getting knocked out of the World Cup."

"Mmm, yes," Gordon nodded. "Couldn't care less about football. I never watch it. Horse racing is my thing. How's Jenna and Christopher?"

"Oh they're both fine, actually I need to discuss something important with you, Gordon. Jenna's 21st birthday is next week. I was wondering if you could help me with something?"

"Certainly, vicar!" He replied, switching off the light above the organ's keyboards. "Happy to help in any way I can."

"Okay, but not here. Come to my study right now, please."

"Right you are," Gordon said. He didn't even have time to remove his robe and hang it up in the vestry. He was intrigued. The way the vicar was summoning him to the study sounded a bit ominous. He felt like a kid at school being summoned to the headmaster in order to receive a punishment. He meekly followed the vicar down the aisle.

"Close the door if you please," Reverend Morris said, as he beckoned the organist into the study. Gordon did as he asked, and was surprised to find Josh the curate, Father Aiden, Bishop George and Norman Winstanley the new churchwarden all waiting.

"Eh, what's all this, vicar?" Gordon exclaimed. "A lads-only party?"

"Gentlemen," Reverend Morris began. "I've invited you here because you are trusted spiritual mentors; and trusted friends of mine. As servants of God, you all have your own important tasks to perform. Now what I am about to ask you, requires a great deal of trust. As good Christians, I wonder if you'll be able to fulfil this very unique anointing ceremony a parishioner has requested."

Father Aiden crossed himself. "I am always ready to do the Lord's work."

by deadeye_76, Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The Strange Will of Mr. Thurman.

On Wednesday night, the day before Thanksgiving or 2010, I’d just met my fiancée’s mother & sisters. The ‘audition’ cover story fell apart when my bride to be, Gwen; insisted that her family level with me. The true reason for each of them planning to have sex with me was because of Mr. Thurman’s will; and not because they were concerned for Gwen’s future love life.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Thurman. I can see you are in a tough spot. I can commiserate with you about this, but there are still dangers besides the personal issues. Can I tell you an old joke?”

She looked puzzled. “Sure.”

“It’s one I heard a long time ago.” I sat forward. “A man was at a bar where he met a very desirable young lady. After a few drinks he leaned over and asked her, ‘Will you have sex with me for a million dollars?’ She looked at him and thought about it, but eventually said yes. He smiled and asked her, ‘Will you have sex with me for a hundred dollars?’ She looked aghast and said, ‘What do you think I am a whore?’ He smiled and said, ‘We’ve already established that, now we’re just bickering over price.’” I sat back and watched Mrs. Thurman.

“So are you saying that this makes us whores?” She was not happy.

“No, I’m saying this may be your deceased husband’s way of proving the point that he believes that you, Sheila, and Gaby are; and that this is a dangerous thing we are doing. The final amendment is still unknown to you, right?”

She looked at me carefully. “Right. We can’t see it until it’s time to declare that we have accomplished the first part  of the will’s demands; or decide to protest it.”

“This is a very dangerous thing.” I was worried about what the real goal of such a vicious man would be. Is this really what he wants? He wants them to be whores to prove that they are? Is that really a test?

She came right back at me. “But what choice do we have? If we do not do this before you two are married, we don’t even get a chance at the rest of his estate. I should have some of that, don’t you think?”

“I agree that you should get some of the estate, Mrs. Thurman. I’m sure that I would want it if I was a family member. However, I’m just not sure that I can do this. Gwen?”

Gwen looked up at everyone. She had been particularly quiet sitting there. “John, I love you. I want you to be faithful to me. However, I don’t know how I can say no to my family on this.”

I watched her carefully. She fidgeted and wrung her hands. She was very uncomfortable… as was I. “So if we do this, what’s the plan?”

Mrs. Thurman looked around. “Sheila, Gaby, and I already drew straws long ago to determine the order. I am supposed to go first, then Sheila, and then Gaby. You will sleep with each of us one night for the next three.”

I looked over at Sheila and Gaby. They were also fidgeting and unable to meet my eyes. “Are you two willing to do this, considering you are married?”

Sheila looked up and around. She opened her mouth and hesitated. Finally, she said, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Gaby stared at me until she realized I was waiting for her to answer individually. She was staring at me as she answered. “No choice.”

I went over and kneeled in front of Gwen. “Gwen, you must be absolutely sure that you can handle this. Saying now that you want me to do it and having to remember this for the rest of your life are two different things. Are you going to be able to face the fact that I had sex with the rest of your family?”

“I don’t know. I just think that I have no choice.”

I stood up. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Later that night I visited the bedroom of my fiancé’s mother.

Thanksgiving Day, 2010.

I stared at the ceiling. Shit! I had lied to Gwen about fucking her mother. She knew I went in there to fulfill the requirements of the will, but if it ever came out she would go ballistic. I couldn’t take it back now and she would feel like I was hiding something if she found out after believing that nothing happened. I really was in a fix now. I would just have to deal with it and live with it the rest of my life, because I didn’t want to let this beauty go. But I also had two more women to go, her sisters. This was going to be an interesting but stressful weekend.

The next day was Thanksgiving. We all tried to act like it was another normal Thanksgiving gathering and dinner. The food was good, but there was an underlying current of tension in everyone. We were all jumpy because of the arrangements. We managed to get thru the day, and it was an overall joyous occasion, but as we got closer to nightfall, things got quiet. Finally, we all peeled off and went to bed. Gwen and I went to our room and discussed nothing in particular as we put on our pajamas and got ready for bed. She was trying not to discuss that I was going to go to her older sister’s room. Sheila was next up in the queue. Finally, at about 10pm, Gwen turned suddenly and pulled me into a bear hug. She whispered that she loved me and then pulled back. She looked up at me and tried to smile.

“I guess it’s time.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

Gwen put her head on my chest. “Please tell me again that this will not change what we have.”

I lifted her head by her chin and looked directly at her. “This will never change us. I love you and you love me and we will always be together. This will be over after this weekend.”

She put her head back down. “Okay, you’d better go.”

I started to pull away, but Gwen held on a little longer, then finally relaxed her grip and backed away. She looked up at me. “See you in a little while.”

“Okay.” I kissed her and smiled and left the room in my pajamas.

I headed for Sheila’s room. I knocked lightly and she called out for me to enter. I opened the door and she was already in bed. She smiled and waved me over. I went toward the bed.

She grinned. “Take off your pajamas and get in here.” I complied and she watched closely. “Um. Nice cock.” I looked up at her quickly and she grinned again. “Well, if we are going to do this, I might as well enjoy it. My husband has been neglecting his duties, so I’m ready.”

I was quickly tucked under the covers with her. “We don’t have to do this, you know. We could just say we did.”

“Not a chance.” I felt her reach for my cock and her covers fell away, revealing nice large tits. My cock hardened. “I can’t wait to have sex with a new cock. This has given me the approval I needed.” I was now fully hard based on her rubbing my dick with her warm hands and displaying those voluptuous tits. “And a nice sized one at that.” She threw the covers back and looked at my cock, standing at attention while she held it. “Um. Did I mention that I love sucking cock?” She bent over and slowly licked around the head. I lay back and moaned. She smiled up at me and rearranged herself on the bed so that she was kneeling next to me. I could see that she had a fantastic body. How could her husband neglect that night after night? Maybe she was lying or there was more going on there than she knew.

Sheila continued to lick and suck on my cock, and she was definitely into it. She gave it a final slurp and started to climb up over me. I looked up at her. “Are you ready? Do you need any lube?”

She grinned and rubbed my cock along her slit. “Honey, I’ve been thinking about this all day and I warmed up a little while waiting for you. Yeah, baby, I’m wet and ready.” With that she slowly started lowering herself onto my cock. Fuck, she was tight. “Fuck yes, a good hard cock. That’s what I really needed.”

I reached up and grabbed her nice c-cup tits. “Nice tits.”

She grinned. “Thank you.” Then she got serious. “Now let’s fuck!”

Sheila started bouncing up and down on my dick like a mad woman. She thrust herself up and down, up and down, groaning and mumbling how good it was at every step. She was very good at grinding her clit against me and I knew she was going to cum soon. Unfortunately, so was I. “Sheila, I’m going to cum soon.”

“Hmm… okay… oh, fuck!”

“Sheila, do you want me to try to get to your ass now?”

“Not a chance!” She leaned over and stared directly into my eyes while she rotated her hips, stimulating her clit against my pubic bone and hair. “I’m going to fuck you until we both cum and then I’m going to suck you hard again and then you can fuck my tight ass.”

That was the final straw for me. I started thrusting and thrusting, feeling the orgasm approaching. She started moaning and I could tell she was close, too. Suddenly, she erupted into an orgasm and held still for a second, then jerked, then held still, then jerked, and did this until she completed her orgasm. I was still thrusting and finally I came, too. I held her down against my hips as I buried my dick into her hot pussy as deep as I could get it to start spurting. I spurted and spurted, filling this sexy mother of two with my cum.

She finally collapsed onto my chest. “Um. That was nice. I think I’m going to like having sex with you.”

I pushed her up. “This is it, Sheila. Tonight is the last time we will have sex. Period.”

“Okay, okay, no need to get upset. I’m just going to leave an open invitation out there for you, that’s all.”

“Sorry, not going to happen. I love your sister and I’m going to marry her. She’s the one for me. Once we finish here tonight, we’re done.”

She stared at me for a second. “Hmmm. I guess that means that baby Gwen is pretty good in the sack, too, eh?”

“No comment.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “No matter. I’ve got you for a little longer tonight, and I’m not letting you go until we are done.”

I groaned and she grinned. She clambered off me and lay next to me. She snuggled up against me and waited a few minutes for us both to catch her breath. Finally she rose up on one elbow, her body still molded to mine. “Well, John. Are you ready for the next round?” She reached out and cupped my balls and soft dick. “Not yet? Well, let’s see what we can do about that.” She then leaned over and started cleaning and sucking my dick. Fuck! This woman was definitely into sex! I decided to tell her that.

“Oh, shit, Sheila, you can really suck cock!”

She lifted her face from my crotch and grinned evilly. “Damn right!” Then she buried her face back into my balls and licked them from the bottom up. She finished by going all the way up my dick and then burying it into her mouth. Fuck! I groaned and she pulled off.

“Um. I see that somebody’s dick wants some of Sheila’s ass. You ready stud?”

I stared at her for a second. “Uh, yeah.” I was barely recovered from the first fuck and she had my dick hard and quivering again.

Sheila sat up and patted me on the hip. “Get up and do this right. Get behind me and fuck my ass hard.”

I was amazed at how different this woman was in and out of the bedroom. She was fucking amazing at this. I crawled up onto my knees and she turned and got on all fours with her face buried into a pillow. She turned her head to me for a second.

“Fuck my pussy for a few moments to get nice and wet and then shove it in my ass. I love ass-fucking, so you shouldn’t have any problems.”

I crawled around behind her and stared at the voluptuous ass in front of me. Her little brown star was winking at me as she appeared to be flexing it. I moved up behind her and aimed my dick at her pussy. I eased it in. Our combined lubrication in her pussy meant that my dick was soaking wet instantly. I slowly fucked her a few times to get it ready and then pulled it out.

“Yeah, baby, fuck that sexy ass.”

I moved forward and pushed my dick against her asshole. “You mean this ass?”

“Fuck yeah! Do it! Fuck me!”

I pushed quickly and her ass opened up and my dick went all the way to the hilt in one solid thrust.

“Oh, yeah, fuck me baby!” Sheila kept after me to fuck her, so I did.

I pulled back and started thrusting. I would pull back kind of slow and watch as her ass clamped onto my dick and then I would quickly bury it. Each time my hips slapped up against hers and she moaned. I could feel her rubbing her pussy with one of her hands and I just started fucking her hard at that point. There was no attempt at her satisfaction now. I just pounded her and looked for my next cum. I wanted to fill her nasty ass with as much cum as I could. I fucked and fucked and she started rolling her hips a little as she played with her pussy and that pushed me to the edge. I was fucking her hard and enjoying it immensely. I was on that edge, wanting it to last forever, but also badly wanting to cum. Suddenly she shuddered in orgasm and the rhythmic squeezing of her ass put me over the top.

“Oh fuck! Here it cums!” I buried myself in Sheila’s tight ass and pumped a load deep into her. I pumped and pumped and was exhausted when I finished. I collapsed on top of her and pushed her flat on the bed.

“Nice job, John. I think you’re going to keep Gwen well satisfied.”

I lay there on top of her feeling her flex her ass and the nice contour of her bubble butt. “I plan on it.”

“Um. Just stay there for a minute until your dick shrinks and naturally pops out of my ass.”

I lay there, feeling her under me. I started relaxing and finally my dick popped out of her ass. She giggled. “Oh, yeah. Nothing like a good pussy and ass fucking to take the edge off.”

I rolled off to the side and stared at her. “Is your husband really neglecting you?”

She grinned. “Yeah. I think he has a little something on the side at work, so I have a friend who comes over and makes sure I don’t get too horny.” I must have been staring at her after that. “What? Don’t get all high and mighty until you’ve been in that position. I’m a woman reaching my sexual peak and all he can do is drool over the bimbos at work.”

“Okay.” What could I say to that. “I think I’ll get cleaned up and go.”

“Okay, lover. I’ll be sure to tell Gwen how good you were and took good care of her sister.” She gave me an evil grin and wink.

“No, thanks.” I threw my pajamas back on and went to Gwen’s room.

Gwen was not even pretending to be asleep this time. She was sitting up and reading her book – at least that’s what she was trying to do. She looked up as soon as I entered.

“Well?” She looked at me apprehensively.

“Your older sister is a little freaky.” I decided I had to tell her the truth about this one.

Her face showed her disappointment even though she knew why I went in there. “I figured. She was always the one telling us about her sexual exploits in college.”

“She also admitted to me that she thinks her husband has a mistress so she has a lover, too.”

Gwen stared at me. “She actually said that?”

“Yeah.”

Gwen got quiet for a minute. “So you fucked her?”

I stared at Gwen, trying to portray the regret that I felt. “Yeah.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Are you sure you want to talk about this?”

She looked down and then back up, staring at me. “Yes, I want to know.”

“I didn’t really enjoy it, but I did cum. She was very good.”

“She was?”

“She was even a little – I don’t know, maybe a little slutty?”

Gwen stared for a moment. “Do you think there’s any truth to my father’s accusations?”

“No. Absolutely not. I know that they are strong, independent women. I also know that they were not wallflowers in college, but there’s a big difference between having a healthy sex life and being a slut!” I said that emphatically, trying to ensure that she understood my position.

“I agree.”

Gwen lay down and turned away from me, saying nothing more. I thought she might be mad. I crawled into bed with her and lay there, thinking about what I should do, or what I could do. I could come up with nothing. I was completely ill equipped to handle this type of situation. I decided it was best to just lay there and not try to bother her.

I lay there and listened to her breathing. She didn’t’ seem to be relaxing. Finally, she turned toward me and put her arm over my chest and her leg over mine. “I’m sorry. I know we asked you to do this. It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry that I had to do it.”

She rose up and kissed me on the lips. “I love you. I always will.”

“I love you, too. Always.”

I was much more capable of relaxing now and thought about tomorrow. I was hoping tomorrow would be easier. Finally, I went to sleep.

I woke up and knew that it was morning by the light streaming in the window. There was no sign of Gwen. I sat up and looked around. The door was open and I could hear talking downstairs. I walked down there and Gwen and her mother were cooking breakfast. Gwen came immediately over to me and put her arms around me. She gave me a big kiss.

“Good morning, my favorite man.”

I answered her. “Good morning, my most favorite woman.”

She grinned. “C'mon. Let’s eat before my sisters get up.”

I agreed and we sat down for breakfast. It was the most relaxing meal I’d had since I arrived. I was holding out hope that the rest of the day would be easy, but I knew deep down that it wouldn’t be.

Friday after Thanksgiving, 2010.

I had just finished breakfast on Black Friday with my fiancé and her mother. I thought about what lie ahead. I had already fucked my fiancé’s mother and sister in order to fulfill the requirements of this weird will that her father had left when he died. Gwen didn’t know I had fucked her mother. I had lied and said we couldn’t do it. I had told her the truth about her slutty sister Sheila. Now, I had one more sister to go; Gaby.

The middle of the day went quickly for me. I took my time getting ready and the four women all went to do some shopping. They were avoiding the large malls, but were going to hit some small stores. I watched some football and caught up on some reading.

About 5pm, they strolled back in, carrying a few bags each from their trip. They were all laughing and having a good time. When Gaby looked over at me I saw her blanch. She was definitely feeling stressed out about our meeting later that night. Gwen came over and gave me a big, wet kiss and they all flounced upstairs to put their purchases away.

Dinner was leftovers and we all gathered around in the kitchen to dip into the containers and fill our plates. I got a little of everything and was second in line for the microwave, so I was sitting with Gwen as the other three were finishing and warming their food.

She leaned over to me and I smiled. She smiled back and then leaned closer to my ear. “I love you more than I can express.”

I turned my head after she said that to see tears welling in her eyes. I pulled her in and gave her a hug and told her I loved her. About that time her mother came out of the kitchen.

“Hey, you two, get a room!” She said it jokingly, but it seemed that Gwen was not to be cheered up. She didn’t laugh or respond, she just went back to eating.

The scenario this evening was the same as the others. We watched a little television and then everyone went to bed early.

At 10pm, I was ready to leave my room and head toward the room of yet again another Thurman woman. Gaby was the middle child and had been married for about 3 years. She had a one-year old that her husband had taken to his family’s house for the holidays. She was supposed to join them tomorrow for a couple of days.

I said my good-bye to Gwen and headed to Gaby’s room. When I entered, it was very dark. I waited for a couple of seconds to get my night eyes and then moved toward the bed. I could hear her breathing and her nervousness was so evident as to be discernible from 10 feet away.

“Gaby?”

“Y, Yes?” She haltingly answered, her voice breaking.

I sat on the bed. “Are you alright?”

I heard her take a deep breath. “Yes, but I can’t have sex with you.” She said it in a breathy whisper.

I was not surprised. “That’s okay.” I lay down on top of the covers. “I’ll just lay here and we can talk for a while. We don’t ever have to tel

By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Jenna took a deep breath as she approached Oakwood Road Methodist Church.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?" Reverend Morris asked.

She patted his shoulder. "I'll be fine Simon. You don't need to

"Right, well, I'll be sat in the car then. I hope you won't be too

"Reverend Morris, I think you're scared!"

"No I'm not! I can't help being concerned for the safety of the woman I love can I? Aren't you a tiny bit nervous?"

"I'm as cool as spring water," Jenna replied. "I was reading all

Reverend Morris nodded as he watched his wife enter the church. "Well

He reclined in his car seat. "I was so lucky to meet Jenna. Of

Father Aiden was walking along the street. Many things were on his

"Holy Mother, " he muttered. A rush of excitement swept over him as

"Hello Father!"

The priest almost dropped his phone. Someone was shouting at him from a parked car.

"Oh, Reverend Morris. Hello there." Damn, no chance of a repeat

"Yes, I hope she won't be long. I'm just waiting for her."

"Are you alright? You look a bit anxious, if you don't mind me saying."

"It's a long story, Father. I think you'd better sit down in the

The priest looked confused. "Nope. Tell me more!" He opened the car door and sat down. I could do to unburden myself too."

"Okay, well, this might sound a bit weird."

"I can handle anything weird," Father Aiden replied.

"It's about ghosts. As a Catholic, what are your thoughts on them and have you ever seen one?"

Father Aiden thought about his answer very carefully. "Hmm. In

"So you've seen one?"

"Yes. Two actually. Once in Ireland when I was a child and another

Reverend Morris looked relieved. "That's good to know."

"The Old Testament also has a few ghost stories. The most famous one

"Yes. And not just any ghost, but the ghost of John Wesley! He's

"Oh I see, then she must, wait, what?" Father Aiden did a double take.

"Thanks for coming' along Mrs. Morris," Reverend Ewing said, shaking

"Not at all! And call me Jenna. I'm a true believer. If my husband

"Your hubby mentioned that your grandma is a Methodist?"

"Uh yeah. Bit of a tenuous link. Like Sir Henry Barrington-Smythe's horse."

"Huh?"

"Oh, never mind. Figure of speech."

"You Brits and your little quirks!" Reverend Ewing laughed. "I'm still getting used to 'em!"

"You said John usually appears in the vestry?"

"Uh-huh. Can be anywhere in the church, but he seems to like the vestry best."

"Right, well go and wait in there and say a few prayers, and see if

Jenna entered the vestry. Everything looked perfectly normal in there. She closed the door and looked around.

"It always comes back to the vestry," she smiled to herself as she recalled when she first got to know Reverend Morris.

Suddenly, the row of gowns on the rail began to swing on their hangers. The temperature dropped, and Jenna rubbed her arms.

"Are you there, John?" She called out.

"Yes."

She spun round. There was no sign of the spirit. "Hey, come on, show

"My sincere apologies," John replied, and slowly faded into view. For

He nodded and bowed. "Bless ye, for am so honored you hath come here.

"Very kind of you to say, Mr. Wesley." Jenna said. "Why are you back in the land of the living? Aren't you happy in Heaven?"

"Ah yes," he began. "Happier than mortals can ever imagine. But you

"You've got a lot of places to visit in just one night," Jenna said.

"Indeed I did, yes. To my regret, I lingered a little too long here,

"Oh dear. May I ask why out of all the people in the world, you

"No Miss Jenna. It was your aura that attracted me. It's very strong.

"You're making me sound like some kind of saint! I assure you I'm

John had a rather dreamy expression on his face. "You remind me so

It was then that Jenna had an idea. A huge grin spread across her

John put his hands together. "You do? Pray, do tell, my dear."

"You need to experience an orgasm. What could be more positive than that?"

He blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh you know, " She tried to think of a period-appropriate phrase so he'd understand. "The end act of carnal relations?"

He blushed. "Oh. Miss Jenna I be a man of God. I don't see how, "

Jenna sank to her knees. "Only one way to find out, John!" She

She reached out to touch him, and expected her hand to pass right through his body, but it didn't. He jolted at her touch.

"Don't worry John. I've done this before, many times in fact. It's a

The moment of first contact had arrived. Jenna let one hand gently

"Oh my! I feel strangely warmed yet again!" John sighed.

Jenna fumbled with the buttons on his breeches, being more used to

"How on earth were you so unlucky in love?" Jenna exclaimed.

"Mostly the ladies deserted me long before I even reached the bedchamber," he mumbled.

"Well I'm not deserting you." She pledged.

Outside the vestry, Reverend Ewing paced back and forth, wondering what the strange groaning noises were all about.

"The hell is going' on in there?" She said out loud.

"Ah!" John sighed, his eyes closed in ecstasy. Thoroughly satisfied, he cried out in joy. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"Ah!

Jenna stood up and wiped her lips. "Godspeed, John! Oh! Just one more

Reverend Ewing was about to knock on the vestry door, when it suddenly opened.

"Oh! Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine. You can reopen your church. John's spirit is at peace once more."

"For sure? He's really gone? But how?"

"I just said a prayer for him. Told him how much his teaching

"Well thank you so much, Jenna," the reverend said, shaking her hand.

Jenna looked down and was mortified at the huge globs of cum. "Oh

"Of course. Thank you again, and give my regards to Simon!"

When she'd gone, Reverend Ewing looked round the vestry. "Hmm, strange. There are no candles in here."

After peace was restored to Oakwood Road Methodist Church, and the

"I've finally completed this special sermon," Reverend Morris said,

"It looks fantastic. Let me grab a coffee and settle down to enjoy this!"

"I hope it won't come across as too boring. You know I always get

"Your sermons are always fun and relevant, Simon, You're too hard on yourself."

The mild-mannered vicar smiled. "Aww, thanks! Oh and I hope Norman

"The new churchwarden? What's he done wrong?"

"Well, as you know, he took over from dear old Albert who died last

"Very sad when a church dies. What are they building in its place?" Jenna asked.

"An Aldi supermarket. Anyways, about Norman. He's sixty-five and a

Jenna was immediately intrigued. How come I've never noticed this guy

"Yes, but not just young! I've seen him staring at the legs of older

"Naughty boy. At least he's not ageist." Jenna said. "He needs to get on OnlyFans."

Reverend Morris couldn't help but laugh. "You always try to see the

"Is he married?"

"No, widowed. Took early retirement too. Has far too much time on his

"So true," Jenna nodded. "He makes bottoms for idle hands to pinch. "I don't think I've seen Norman. What does he look like?"

"Well he wears glasses and he's the spitting image of Frank Carson."

Jenna blinked. "Who?"

"Heh, I keep forgetting the age gap between us. Frank was a Northern

"Ok. I'll keep an eye out for Norman this Sunday!"

"If he tries anything with you, tell me at once!"

"Oh don't worry. He wouldn't dare," Jenna replied, smirking to

As expected, the Sunday service was very well-attended. Jenna had

"I hope this isn't disrespectful to the war dead," she thought to

Before long, Norman Winstanley appeared and Jenna recognized him at

"Ah, that's him. Mr. Wandering Hands Winstanley," she said to

"I wonder if he wears y-fronts like Gordon? He looks the type." Of

Norman stood in his usual place, ready to direct the lost sheep, as

Suddenly, the strains of the organ interrupted the quietness of the

Everyone dutifully stood up, and it was then that Jenna caught

Who's that tasty little filly? Norman thought. I haven't seen her

Look at him, undressing me with his eyes, Jenna smirked. Oh he's

The hymn finished, and everyone sat down, as Reverend Morris began the usual start of the morning Eucharist.

"A very blessed welcome to all who have joined us today, for this,

Jenna bowed her head. At the same time, she crossed her legs and slid

"Venus herself," he muttered, gazing at her flawless legs and

A cough brought him to his senses. Josh the curate was desperately trying to attract his attention as discreetly as possible.

"Oh, sorry!" Gordon whispered, fumbling with his music sheets. He started playing the Gloria.

Jenna was getting excited just thinking about flashing her white

Part 1 of 2, by  deadeye_76, listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010:

“Your family wants me to do what?!?!” I said this in a harsh whisper to my fiancé. We were in her bedroom at her family home on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, having gone there for the weekend. What she had just told me was shocking. I couldn’t believe my ears and she was sitting there looking shocked and stunned herself, tears forming in her eyes. I started pacing and thinking about what I should say. But first, let me tell you how we got to this point.

Fall, 2009 I met my fiancé the year after we both graduated from college. We were working at the same company, both at the entry level, her in the Human Resources department and me as a database administrator.

One Friday as the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays approached, some of the folks from the company went to a happy hour. There were many people there and I noticed Gwen right away. She was a little reticent to get caught up in the unbridled joy (or stupidity depending on your point of view) that some people were exhibiting. She was smiling and laughing, but seemed a little reserved. She was blonde, very pale, and had a tiny bone structure. She looked to be no taller than about 5'2", but I couldn’t tell for sure. I went over to the table where she was sitting and said hello to one of the guys that was there that I already knew. I was hoping for, and received, an introduction to her. I noticed that her eyes were a little green, but seemed to run toward hazel. They also captivated me and I caught myself staring at her a few times.

Soon it was approaching 8pm and we had been there since about 5:30, so I decided to go to the restaurant next door and get some dinner. I told my friend this and then looked at Gwen. I was never very aggressive with my approach to women and was a little shy about asking, but somehow I managed to ask her if she wanted to join me. She looked down at her drink and then over at her friends who were, in my mind, making fools of themselves in front of some of the company managers. She looked at me and smiled. She agreed and I was inwardly thankful that I had gotten up the nerve.

When she stood, I got a better look at her. She was maybe 5'4" and 110 lbs. She looked to be athletic and in good condition. She moved like an athlete and since I played baseball in college, I figured she might have played some sport, too. She was wearing nice jeans that accentuated her slender stature and tight butt.

Over the next couple weeks we dated a little casually, nothing too formal. We were taking it slow, mostly because she wanted to. I wanted to take it slow for a while, but being around her was driving me nuts. She seemed to ooze some pheromone that was making me hornier than usual. She was also living alone in a nice apartment while I was living with a roommate. She must have come from money, but she never told me anything about her family or situation.

For Christmas, Gwen was going to be heading home to be with her family. She had finally told me some things about them. I had learned that her father had died last summer and her mother lived alone in a big house. Her two sisters were older than her and married. The oldest had two children and the younger one just one child. They were all going to be there for Christmas and I could tell she was looking forward to being with family. Just before she left, I took her to a very fancy, very upscale place. I told her to dress up and she didn’t disappoint.

Things progressed quickly from there. I found that while she was a little demure in public, she was, underneath it, a fiery, opinionated, outspoken woman – and I was slowly falling in love with her. She told me one night in May that she was in love with me and watched me closely. I could feel her gaze as she carefully watched how I responded. I just smiled, stared back into those eyes, and told her I loved her, too. Apparently, I passed her test because she ripped my clothes off and had her way with me – several times that night. It took a week to wipe the grin off my face.

By July, we had become a couple that people described with both our names. It was only a matter of time, in my mind, before we got engaged. I decided that the best time would be after she returned from her summer vacation with her family and me with mine, which made it Labor Day weekend. We were both going to see our families the last week of August, separately, and would be back for that weekend. I had a key to her place so I set it up in a manner that she would appreciate. We were both hopeless romantics and I knew she would really appreciate the effort.

I shook my head. She and her mother were close. Her father had died the previous year and they had become even closer. I loved her for that, too.

She finally put her phone down and went over and plunked down on the bed. “Okay, let’s eat something here.” She eyed me. “Somebody is going to need their strength.”

I grinned and reached into the pocket of my robe for the last part of her surprise. She was just finishing her first cracker and had reached for her champagne. I put my left hand on her arm and stopped her. She looked up at me questioningly. I smiled and slid off the bed onto my knees. She was still looking puzzled until I held up the small ring box.

I was unprepared for her reaction. She screeched and threw herself at me. She tackled me better than anyone had when I played football and ended up on top of me. I was being assaulted by lips for the next 2 minutes. She kissed me on the mouth, all over my face, and then my neck, before returning to my mouth. Finally she sat up and grabbed the box that I was still holding.

I grinned at her. “Is that a yes?”

She ripped the ring out of the box and put it on her finger before she answered me. She looked down at me and smiled. “That was a hell, yes, don’t you ever think about taking it back.”

By November, we had made arrangements to spend Thanksgiving with her family. And that’s where we ended up today. We are sitting in her bedroom trying to wrap our arms around what her mother had just told her. It was unthinkable to me. Her mother had told her that her two older sisters both had sexual duds for husbands. The husbands were not adventuresome, were not good at taking care of their wives’ needs, and were not interested in even learning how to please them. Her mother had told Gwen that therefore, since just she and the three girls were there that Thanksgiving, having left the families to visit the other relatives, she and Gwen’s two sisters were going to audition me to be a good husband. They would each spend a night with me to ensure that I knew how to take care of a woman sexually.

I thought and thought about what to say. Her mother and sisters were attractive enough. There was nothing disgusting about it physically, but something didn’t seem right. How was I supposed to answer this? Her mother had become Gwen’s closest friend since her father died, so she was shocked and dismayed. I guess there was only one thing to say.

“Gwen. I don’t like it, but I will do whatever you say. If you want me to do it, I can handle it, but only if you can. If you say no, I’ll back you 100%. I have no idea what you think, but I’m behind you. Tell me what you think and what you think we should do.”

So here we are, Gwen and I. We are sitting in her bedroom trying to wrap our arms around what her mother had just told her. It was unthinkable to me. Her mother had told her that her two older sisters both had sexual duds for husbands. The husbands were not adventuresome, were not good at taking care of their wives’ needs, and were not interested in even learning how to please them. Her mother had told Gwen that therefore, since just she and the three girls were there that Thanksgiving, having left the families to visit the other relatives, she and Gwen’s two sisters were going to audition me to be a good husband. They would each spend a night with me to ensure that I knew how to take care of a woman sexually.

I thought and thought about what to say. Her mother and sisters were attractive enough. There was nothing disgusting about it physically, but something didn’t seem right. And how was I supposed to answer this? Her mother had become Gwen’s closest friend since her father died, so she was shocked and dismayed. I guess there was only one thing to say.

“Gwen. I don’t like it, but I will do whatever you say. If you want me to do it, I can handle it, but only if you can. If you say no, I’ll back you 100%. I have no idea what you think, but I’m behind you. Tell me what you think and what you think we should do.”

Gwen looked up at me. I hated laying it on her, but I had to know what she was thinking. “This is all a lie. There’s more to it than what you have been told. C'mon.” She held out her hand and I took it.

Gwen led me into the dining room where her mother and sisters were sitting, sipping wine and waiting for my answer. They looked almost as tense as Gwen, but I could not figure out why. There was definitely something more going on here.

Gwen led me straight to her mother. “Mom, I want you to tell John the truth about this. Show him the paper.” Her mother hesitated and just looked back and forth between us. “Now!”

I had never seen Gwen this demonstrative with her mother and her mother must not have either. She jumped when Gwen said that. “Okay, honey. But he has to agree to keep this a secret, okay?” She looked at Gwen and then at me.

I was unable to understand what they might be talking about. I looked at her and then Gwen. “Sure. I can keep a secret.”

Mrs. Thurman got up and walked over to a drawer in a small secretarial desk. She opened a drawer and pulled out an envelope. She walked back over to us and stood there looking at Gwen. She finally took a deep breath and handed it to Gwen. “We have to proceed very carefully.” She looked at everyone. “Sit down, John. Okay, Gwen, show him.”

Gwen turned to me and handed me the envelope. “Please, please, read this completely before you say anything.”

“Sure.” I didn’t know what else to say. What the hell was in this envelope? She let go of the envelope as I took it and sat down.

I opened the envelope and read the letter that was inside.

“Ann, I know that I am dying at this time. There is nothing more that can be done about it. However, I have a few things to get off my chest. First, I know that you are a slut and that you have been having affairs for the last few years. I also know that your first two daughters are sluts as well. They have fucked every man they can at college, and they have even branched out around our neighborhood. I just hope that you three do not corrupt Gwen as she gets older. I will be dying soon and I cannot do anything about what fucking whores you three have come, but I can at least make you three do one thing. I can withhold my estate from you. I have a plan that I have come up with to prove a point. I am going to withhold everything except a $50,000 annual allowance for Ann, from all of you. Only when you carry out these instructions will the remaining part of the estate, currently valued at $35,000,000.00, be released to be shared by all of you as I dictate in an additional amendment to my will. Here’s the plan. Someday soon, Gwen will come home with a man she wants to marry. In order for the remainder of my estate to be issued to you fucking tramps, you will have to each fuck and suck this man before the wedding. One night alone with each of you should do it. The requirement is that you have to give up all three orifices to him. I don’t care what you tell Gwen or if you don’t, but if you do this, to prove my point, the remainder of my estate will be released according to the additional document. If not, then it will automatically go to my favorite charity. In order for this to be considered accomplished, this young man will have to report to my attorney and confirm it. I hope you all rot in hell. Don”

I sat there stunned and read it again. I had never read a letter full of such hate and disgust. It sounded like a bitter, angry old man and was nothing like the man that Gwen had described a few times. “Uh, this is a very strange letter.”

Mrs. Thurman nodded. “Yes, it is. First, I want to say something on our behalf. I never cheated on Don. I have no idea where he got his ideas from, but over the last couple of years he became jealous and saw every man who I talked to as a possible adulterer of mine. Sheila and Gaby are not tramps either. I would imagine that they had a healthy sex life at college because that’s the way things are nowadays. I spoke to them and neither of them understands the comment about the neighborhood. We are not tramps.”

I looked at her and then Gwen. “I have no reason to doubt you. However, this is a very strange situation.” I looked down at my hands. “Mrs. Thurman. I love your daughter more than anything. As soon as we were a steady item I considered that I was only going to be with her. We have been monogamous for a long time. I do not want to hurt her or cheat on her, so I’m having a hard time considering this.”

She looked at me and sighed. “I know. I knew that Gwen would come home with a very nice man.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. However, I cannot imagine giving up the money that Don accrued over our lifetime. I was a stay at home mother and raised three daughters. I went to all his social events. When I could go back to work, he was making enough that he asked me to stay home. I agreed and continued to support him. I thought I would get his estate after agreeing to that. But since I didn’t, I now find that I cannot support myself or even this house on what I am earning in my job. I was hoping to keep this big house in the family and continue to live in this nice neighborhood and enjoy life, but without the rest of his estate I cannot do it. I know that my daughters each deserve a piece of this, so we talked about it over the last year and a half, to make sure we knew where we stood. We all agree that it’s worth it to do this just this one time for our families.”

“What about contesting it? This is very irregular? Why not contest it and get it thrown out? I cannot imagine any judge upholding something like this.”

Mrs. Thurman looked at her hands, pulling on them, twisting them in nervousness. “I asked a friend who is a lawyer about this. He said we could. However, there is an attachment that I didn’t give you. On it is the list of people he accuses us of cheating and having affairs with. I could probably live with it, but there are very nice, responsible members of the community on there. What happens when this comes out in court? You know that in today’s world it would come out or they would be called to contradict my husband’s allegations. And it would definitely be a juicy news item. These people would be ruined, maybe even their marriages disrupted, by a jealous old man’s fantasies. I cannot think about that. The same is true of my daughters. He names people the same way. I’m sorry, but I won’t do that even if you refuse. I just hope we can convince you to do it.”

When she finished I considered what I had heard.“I’m sorry Mrs. Thurman. I can see you are in a tough spot. I can commiserate with you about this, but there are still dangers besides the personal issues. Can I tell you an old joke?”

She looked puzzled. “Sure.”

“It’s one I heard a long time ago.” I sat forward. “A man was at a bar where he met a very desirable young lady. After a few drinks he leaned over and asked her, ‘Will you have sex with me for a million dollars?’ She looked at him and thought about it, but eventually said yes. He smiled and asked her, ‘Will you have sex with me for a hundred dollars?’ She looked aghast and said, ‘What do you think I am a whore?’ He smiled and said, ‘We’ve already established that, now we’re just bickering over price.’” I sat back and watched Mrs. Thurman.

“So are you saying that this makes us whores?” She was not happy.

“No, I’m saying this may be his way of proving the point that he believes that you are and that this is a dangerous thing we are doing. The final amendment is still unknown to you, right?”

She looked at me carefully. “Right. We can’t see it until it’s time to declare that we have accomplished the first part or decide to protest it.”

“This is a very dangerous thing.” I was worried about what the real goal of such a vicious man would be. Is this really what he wants? He wants them to be whores to prove that they are? Is that really a test?

She came right back at me. “But what choice do we have? If we do not do this before you two are married, we don’t even get a chance at the rest of his estate. I should have some of that, don’t you think?”

“I agree that you should get some of the estate, Mrs.Thurman. I’m sure that I would want it if I was a family member. However, I’m just not sure that I can do this. Gwen?”

Gwen looked up at everyone. She had been particularly quiet sitting there. “John, I love you. I want you to be faithful to me. However, I don’t know how I can say no to my family on this.”

I watched her carefully. She fidgeted and wrung her hands. She was very uncomfortable… as was I. “So if we do this, what’s the plan?”

Mrs. Thurman looked around. “Sheila, Gaby, and I already drew straws long ago to determine the order. I am supposed to go first, then Sheila, and then Gaby. You will sleep with each of us one night for the next three.”

I looked over at Sheila and Gaby. They were also fidgeting and unable to meet my eyes. “Are you two willing to do this, considering you are married?”

Sheila looked up and around. She opened her mouth and hesitated. Finally, she said, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Gaby stared at me until she realized I was waiting for her to answer individually. She was staring at me as she answered. “No choice.”

I went over and kneeled in front of Gwen. “Gwen, you must be absolutely sure that you can handle this. Saying now that you want me to do it and having to remember this for the rest of your life are two different things. Are you going to be able to face the fact that I had sex with the rest of your family?”

“I don’t know. I just think that I have no choice.”

I stood up. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Everyone visibly relaxed for a moment, and then the mood got tense as everyone realized what was coming. Mrs. Thurman spoke first. “Okay. It’s 8pm. Everyone get to bed and let’s get this over with. John, you can come to my room about 10. Is that okay?”

“Fine.” I watched Gwen and saw her flinch at that. I went to her and took her by the hand. I led her upstairs and into her bedroom. I sat her on the bed and kneeled in front of her. “Any time you change your mind, you let me know, okay?”

She nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

I leaned over and hugged her. “I’m not sure about that, but if we love each other, we’ll get thru this.”

She nodded glumly and looked up at me. “You think so?”

“I know so. I’m not allowed to take that ring back if you remember correctly.”

She smiled a little. “That’s correct.”

We got ready for bed and I put on the pajamas that I had brought. I usually slept in the nude, but made sure I brought them for being at her house. Her mother and family were allowing us to sleep together, which I initially thought was very modern. Now I wondered if that was just because of the situation they were in.

Gwen got quieter and quieter as 10pm approached. She clung to me and we lay there hugging each other. She finally looked up at about two minutes before. “I love you. I want you to take care of them. They are my family and they deserve your respect and love just like me.”

I stared into her eyes. “You are so good to them. I hope they realize what this means to you.”

She buried her head in my shoulder. “I hope so, too.”

She finally pushed me away. “Okay. Go to Mom.”

I stood and she lay there staring at me, a single tear leaking down the side of her face toward me. This made me angry and was fucking with my head. I didn’t know if I should go or not. She gave me a wan smile and “Go. We have to do this.”

I left her and

By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

On Monday afternoon, a letter arrived at the vicarage that took Reverend Morris by surprise.

"I don't believe this!" He gasped, reading the letter out loud to

"Whoa, " Jenna spluttered.

"Yup. You and I have been invited to dine at Bishop George's place.

"Wow, what a tremendous honor for you, Simon!" Jenna smiled, flinging

"Hmm, maybe?" Reverend Morris re-read the letter. "This is totally unexpected, and a bit bizarre. I can't get my head round it."

"I remember seeing Justin Welby give that speech when we were

"I wish I shared your optimism my love, but I can't help but thinking that there's a catch."

A few days later, Reverend Morris' fears were confirmed when a second letter arrived.

"I don't believe this!" The vicar lamented as he read the

"I can see how that could be seen as quite triggering in this day and

Reverend Morris slapped his forehead. "Oh this is a nightmare. The

Jenna narrowed her eyes, seeing how distressed her husband was. This situation needed rectifying immediately.

"Simon, try not to worry. When we dine at Bishop George's place, you

"No," Reverend Morris replied. "To be honest, I know hardly anything

Jenna smiled. "Oh good. So what we have here is a controlled situation."

"For now. I expect he'll tweet all about it after the meeting."

We'll see about that, Jenna thought to herself.

The day of the meeting arrived. Reverend Morris anxiously fiddled

Presently, Jenna came breezing into the sitting room, where her

"Do I look alright?" She asked, knowing full well what Reverend Morris' response would be.

"Oh my God, wow, you look absolutely beautiful as always, Jenna. Right well, we'd better get going."

"Try not to worry, Simon." She said, kissing him. "It might not be as bad as it seems."

He sighed. "St. Michael's church means so much to me. I treasure its

"And we shall continue to treasure it. Don't you worry. Things might

"I hope so."

They headed to the car. A plan was forming in Jenna's mind. Justin

Bishop George was stood at the door of his home when Jenna and Reverend Morris arrived.

"Great to see you both!" He smiled. "Can't say I'm happy at what the Big Boss is proposing here."

"You and me both, George," Simon sighed. Jenna winked at the bishop.

"Right, do go in, make yourself comfortable, there are refreshments

"I've got your red lace panties on tonight," he whispered.

"A great choice!" Jenna whispered back.

Reverend Morris sipped a sherry as he nervously awaited the

"He's coming," Reverend Morris gulped. "Why do I feel like a little kid about to be sent to detention?"

"God is with us," Jenna replied, patting his thigh.

Bishop George entered the room. "It is a great pleasure to welcome

"Oh good, he's come alone," Jenna smiled, fearing that his wife might

Everyone shook hands. "Ah, Reverend Morris," the Archbishop began. "The vicar of St. Michael's. Nice to meet you at last."

"Thank you, Your Grace. And this is Jenna, my wife."

Jenna was quick to offer her hand. "I've wanted to meet you for such a

The vicar's young and stunning wife had certainly caused the

"What a mercy she wasn't at the Queen's funeral," he said to himself.

The pre-dinner conversation between Reverend Morris, Bishop George

Bishop George suggested his guests seat themselves at the table in

"Bishop George is such a good cook, Reverend Morris prattled

Sensing her husband's discomfort, Jenna cut in. "He's a much better

The Archbishop chuckled. "Let us say a prayer before we dine."

The first course passed without incident, but Jenna was hungry for

"You've done so many impressive things during your tenure, Your

"Why thank you Jenna. "I appreciate your kind words!"

Jenna continued. "Your Grace, I ask you as a good Christian, would

The Archbishop adjusted his glasses. "Jenna, I have no wish to cause

He had been quietly sipping his soup. Suddenly, a strange sensation

"Are you enjoying your soup?"

"Um, Jenna, what are you doing?"

"As I was saying, your letter has stressed my husband out so much,

The Archbishop glanced down and then at her. "Um, well I'm very sorry to hear that."

She smiled back and began rubbing his inner thigh very gently. He

"Do you realize what you're doing? I am a married man!" He whispered.

"I do, but you pride yourself on having a liberal outlook, yes?

"You are, a rather naughty vicar's wife," he whispered back, feeling his cheeks flushing.

"You haven't granted permission, Your Grace."

The Archbishop took a deep breath. Why was he giving in to temptation

"Mrs. Morris, you may do as you wish. I am yours to explore, "

This was all the permission she required. Before the Archbishop could

"Er, yes. That's right."

Jenna swiftly freed the Archbishop's staff from his white boxer

The Archbishop's back stiffened and he caught his breath as he felt

She knew to vary the speed of her up and down motion, and could sense

"Your Grace, I beg of you. I want to go further and worship properly.

The Archbishop was desperate to come. Sweat had broken out on his

"Thankyou, .dear Justin!" She said, using his Christian name for the

The Most Reverend's breathing started to become more rapid and

Only after the last discharge was launched and the Archbishop leaned

The Archbishop jolted in panic as Bishop George and Reverend Morris

"I'm sorry I was so long," Reverend Morris mumbled. "Call of nature and all that."

"And silly me, I forgot to turn the oven up, but worry not, the roast beef is nearly ready!" Bishop George replied.

"Understood," panted the Archbishop, wiping his glasses.

Bishop George tilted his head at his Jenna's empty chair, and the movement under the table. He raised the tablecloth.

"Oh I say, Jenna. Have you lost something?"

"Just my pearl earring," she calmly replied. "But fortunately, I have now found it."

Bishop George nodded and gave a wry smile. "So I see. And you seem to have gained a pearl necklace too!"

A Ghost Appears at the Methodist Church

"What are your thoughts on ghosts, Jen?" Reverend Morris said as he climbed into bed.

Jenna reclined next to her husband, and ran a finger through his

"I might get to see one tomorrow. I've just had a rather desperate

"Whoa, that ghost must really like the Methodist church then!" Jenna

"Well it's not just any old ghost that's taken up residence there.

"What, the John Wesley? The founder of Methodism?" Jenna blinked.

"Yes. That's the bit I find really hard to believe. Not saying that

Jenna was fascinated. "Maybe he didn't choose to return. Maybe

"Good theory!" Reverend Morris replied. "Wesley did visit the site

"Shouldn't Father Aiden be called along too? Like in the Exorcist?"

Reverend Morris laughed. "I once watched that movie with some mates

Jenna thought for a while. "If you ask me, having John Wesley

"No? Tell me more!"

"I was working as a tavern wench, when Charles arrived, weary after a

Jenna rolled over and kissed him. The Reverend's tongue darted into

"And, I helped Charles overcome his writer's block, so he was able to write Hark the Herald Angels Sing."

She pulled down his boxers and rolled her tongue around the head of her husband's cock, trying to get every d