Depravicus (4 page)

Deciding to
try his luck by pretending to pass out, he was sure the naughty
girl would succumb to her inner desires once she caught sight of
his rock-hard cock.

"I wasn't cut
out to be a fucking nun," she sighed, spying through the net
curtains. "Stuck in the bloody convent day in day out... I'm used
to clubbing and drinking, having fun."

"It must be
quite a culture shock," Will replied. "I suppose you miss having
relationships."

"Yes I do.
It's not natural, going without sex. I feel fucking starved."

So did he.
"Oh, I've come over a little dizzy," he said, holding his head.

"Are you all
right?" she asked, turning and facing him. "You're not pregnant,
are you?"

"Pregnant? No,
no... It's the heat. I tend to blackout when I get too hot. Wearing
this cassock doesn't help." He felt far more comfortable when
completely naked.

"That's why I
never wear panties beneath my habit."

"Neither do I.
Well, not very often."

"So, where's
your church? The church of the... What was it called?"

"Er... The
Unholy Union of the Wretched Souls. It's here, in the house."

"Really?"

"It's a
temporary measure. A measure of temporaryness. Is that right?
Temporaryness? Goodness me, it seems to be getting hotter," he
gasped, mopping his brow with the back of his hand. "Should I pass
out, don't worry about me. I usually come off... Come round in
about fifteen minutes."

"Have you been
to the doctor about it?"

"Yes, but he
wasn't much help. He suggested that I leave it alone... Oh, I see
what you mean. He said there was nothing I could do about it. At
least I have some warning when I'm about to..."

Lifting his
cassock as Lolita again peered out of the window, he dropped to the
floor and sprawled out. His erect cock exposed, his full balls
rolling, he watched the girl through his eyelashes as she knelt by
his side and asked whether he was all right. Unmoving, he breathed
deeply as if asleep, praying for her to touch his exposed penis,
pull his foreskin back and run her fingertip over the sensitive
bulb of his glans. Was she into oral sex? Much to Will's
disgruntlement, she pulled his cassock down and placed a cushion
beneath his head. Fuck, he thought agitatedly as she sat on the
sofa. That worked well.

"Will," she
finally breathed after several minutes. Slipping off the sofa, she
knelt by his side. "Fifteen minutes," she muttered, tentatively
pulling his cassock up over his stomach. Eyeing the veined shaft of
his cock, she stroked his scrotum. His penis twitching expectantly,
he was sure she wouldn't hesitate to lift her habit and impale
herself on his magnificent shaft. But he wasn't so sure that she
was a little cumslut. If she wasn't, she soon would be. Grabbing
his fleshy cock she gently squeezed. "Fifteen minutes," she again
breathed, looking up at the clock.

This was a
prayer come true, Will knew as she ran her hand up and down his
veined shaft, his foreskin rolling back and forth over the
ballooning glans of his massive cock. It was obviously a sign from
God, he reflected. A girl coming to his house, gripping his cock...
Locked up in the convent she must have been dying for a length of
meaty cock, he mused. Yes, he thought happily as she fully
retracted his foreskin and moved her open mouth towards his
glistening knob. There was nothing like having a girl gobble your
cock.

"Oh," she
gasped, sitting upright as the doorbell rang. "It's fuck-face," she
murmured. "Will, wake up. The Reverend fucking Mother's here."

Lying
perfectly still Will knew that suddenly emerging from his
unconscious state might arouse the girl's suspicion. The hag
couldn't get into the house, so there was no need to worry. This
added credence to his blackout, he reflected as the girl perched
her biteable buttocks on the sofa. Remaining on the floor in time
of a diabolical crisis was a brilliant move. Lolita would be
convinced he was out cold and not hesitate to suck his knob and
piston her wet cunt with his granite-hard cock-shaft.

Once the
hag-bag had gone the nun would settle on the floor again and suck
his knob, he was sure. Either that or kneel astride him and thrust
his cock up her tight pussy or force his swollen knob deep into the
heat of her bottom and bounce up and down until he spunked or...
The doorbell ringing again, he prayed for the Mother Inferior to
fuck off and leave him to his decadent ways.

"Thank God,"
Lolita breathed after a few minutes of silence. Settling on the
floor again, she took the solid shaft of Will's cock in her hand
and examined the glistening bulb of his purple knob. "It's so big,"
she whispered, running her fingertip over his sperm-slit. Leaning
forward, she parted her full red lips and sucked his swollen glans
into her wet mouth. Breathing heavily, Will tried to remain
perfectly still as he felt her tongue slithering over the
silky-smooth surface of his sex-globe, her slender fingers kneading
his fully-loaded balls. Taking his swollen plum to the back of her
throat, she mouthed and gobbled, gently sinking her teeth into his
veined shaft. Her fingertip teasing the sensitive skin between his
scrotal sac and his anal entrance, she certainly knew what she was
doing.

A cumslut of
experience, Will mused as she raised her head and engulfed the rim
of his glans between her succulent lips. This was what life was all
about, he knew as she teased the sensitive tissue of his anus. A
girl sucking his cock, desperate to swallow his sperm... Who needed
marriage? As she tried to push the tip of her tongue into his
knob-slit, Will did his best not to move.

His body
trembling, his breathing fast and shallow, he knew that he was
about to fill her pretty mouth with his spunk.

Stifling a
moan of decadent pleasure as his sperm coursed along his penile
shaft and spurted from his sex-slit, his body rigid, he dug his
fingernails into the carpet as she drank from his fount of lust.
His rolling balls draining, he felt her tongue snaking over his
throbbing glans, lapping up his orgasmic fluid as he quivered in
his debased pleasure. She really was experienced, he reflected as
she repeatedly took his purple pleasure-head to the back of her hot
throat.

Sucking and
swallowing hard, she didn't waste one drop of male liquid. He could
hear her gulping down his testicular cream, her slurps resounding
around the room as she sucked the remnants of his orgasmic liquid
from his veined rod of carnal lust. Finally slipping his knob out
of her mouth and running her spunk-wet tongue all over his balls,
she moaned softly through her nose. She was surely in need of a
damned good clitoral licking after her mouth-fuck, Will thought in
his wickedness. No doubt she'd squat over his face and grind her
wet cuntal folds into his thirsty mouth and squeeze out her
lubricious juices of desire and...

"My God!" the
Mother Superior exclaimed as she burst into the room.

"Oh," Lolita
gasped, her tongue licking her spunked lips. "Er... Mother..."

"Entercock,
what on earth do you...?"

"He passed
out," the girl explained.

"I'm not
surprised."

"No, no. You
see, he has blackouts. I was just..."

"Get back to
the convent," the hag-bag spat, her clenched fists resting on her
ample hips. "Never have I witnessed such despicable behaviour."

"But,
Mother..." the girl stammered, leaping to her feet and making for
the door.

"You're going
to find out what ironing is really about, my girl. Now, get back to
the convent and wait in my office."

As the girl
fled the room Will remained perfectly still. He had to continue
with the fainting scam, even though it would result in dropping
Lolita in the crap. The very day Josie cleared off there was
trouble, he reflected as he watched the Reverend Mother through his
eyelashes. But it wasn't his fault he'd passed out and had been
taken advantage of by a pretty girl with a rampant thirst for
spunk. It could have happened to anyone, he tried to convince
himself, aware of the hag-bag gazing at his cock lying slug-like
over his hairy scrotum. He hoped she was not going to suck him
off!

"Get up,
Entercock," she hissed, kicking his arm.

"Oh, oh," he
moaned, propping himself up on his elbows. "Er... What
happened?"

"You know very
well what happened."

"Am I dead?
Oh, Reverend... What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

"Through the
back door."

"What I want
to know is, what were you doing to that poor girl?"

"Poor girl?"
he asked, clambering to his feet and looking about him in a most
perplexed manner. "I don't know any poor girls. I once knew a girl
who was rich, but she..."

"Don't start
your old rubbish, Entercock. I know you, making out that you're
innocent when you're as guilty as..."

"Hell?"

"Blasphemer.
That girl was licking..."

"Which
girl?"

"Oh, I see.
You're going to make out that you knew nothing about Sister
Crotchly being here and... and committing vulgar sexual acts with
you."

"Good grief,"
he gasped, holding his hand to his head. "Vulgar sexual acts? Here,
in my very house?"

"Here, on your
very lounge floor."

"My very
lounge floor?"

"Your very
stained lounge carpet. My God, you're a sad man, Entercock. I shall
ring the Bishop again. And this time he won't believe that I
invited you into my office for elevenses, afternoon tea, high tea,
or anything else."

"Morning
tea?"

"I'll see to
it that you're put down, Entercock. You mark my words."

"I once had a
pussy put down."

A woman
scorned, and all that, Will thought as she stormed out of the
house. He'd had the spunk sucked out of his cock, which couldn't be
too bad a start to Josie's time away. But the night was young, and
he wondered what to do for the rest of the evening as he grabbed
another can of lager from the fridge. There was always the pub, he
ruminated. Sixteen pints of lager, a few jokes and a laugh...

Wandering into
the dining room he opened the patio doors and began flinging the
furniture out into the garden. A perfectly normal thing to do on a
hot summer evening. The large room would make an ideal bar, he
mused, dragging the sideboard into the garden. The table and
chairs, the Welsh dresser... The room finally cleared, he stacked
the furniture up in the garden and poured a can of petrol over it.
Striking a match, he tossed it into the antiques and stood back as
the flames shot up into the evening sky.

He'd tell
Josie that they'd been burgled, he decided, taking another can of
lager from the fridge as the fire raged. It wasn't his fault that
they'd been broken into and the dining room completely stripped of
valuable antiques. He'd been in the pub... No. He'd been shopping
in the village when the thieves had struck. They must have had a
van. It had been bloody fortunate that Will had returned before
they'd stripped the lounge. Grabbing the phone as his plan came
together, he rang the landlord of the local pub.

"Jack, it's
Will," he said. "Are you busy?"

"Fuck off,"
the man returned endearingly. "Fucking busy? Huh, that'll be the
fucking day."

"I'm building
a bar in my dining room and wondered whether you had any
fittings."

"I've got some
fucking old pumps and stuff in the fucking cellar if that's any
fucking use to you."

"Great. I
haven't built the bar yet. I'll have to nick some wood from
somewhere."

"There's a
fucking bar out back. The fucking brewery ripped the fucking thing
out last fucking year. It's in one piece, if you fucking want
it."

"If I fucking
want it? Fucking right, I do. OK, I'll arrange fucking
transport"

"This is going
to be for your private fucking use, isn't it?"

"What do you
mean?"

"You're not
thinking of setting up in fucking competition and..."

"Jack, how
could you think such a thing?"

"Because I
know you of fucking old. I wouldn't fucking put anything past
you."

"It's for my
private use. I swear on your mother's life."

"That's all
fucking right, then. Hang on, I'll pass you over to Steve."

"Steve?"

"He's a
fucking builder. He's staying at the fucking pub while he does some
fucking work in the fucking village. He's got a fucking truck. He
might be able to bring the fucking bar over."

"There's no
need for me to speak to him. Tell him to bring it over now. I'll
pay him, of course."

"You'd fucking
better. He's built like a fucking brick shithouse. And his fucking
mate's even fucking bigger."

"OK, OK. Tell
them to bring it over now. And any other bits and pieces you might
have. You know, optics, pumps, pipes, coolers, an ice making
machine, several barrels of lager and bitter, a few crates of vodka
and..."

"Will?"

"Yes?"

"Fuck
off."

Clapping his
hands, Will couldn't believe his luck. Josie would go mental, of
course. Her brain would boil and implode before exploding and...
But she wasn't due home for two months. He'd cross that bridge when
he came to it, he decided. Besides, she'd probably love a bar in
the dining room. No, perhaps not. Whose house was it, anyway? He
grabbed another can of lager from the fridge. Fucking women think
they can fucking move in and fucking throw their fucking weight
about and take fucking charge of your fucking life and... and there
was nothing you could fucking do about it. The price one paid for a
resident fanny, Will mused, wondering whether to have a quick
wank.

"He's up to no
good," the Reverend Mother said, gazing across her desk at the
Bishop. "Unless we stop him now, nip him in the bud..."