shards of intense, almost painful ecstasy up into her belly
and down deep into her ass.
A hollow, huffing sound arose in her throat. The noise brought her
out of her reverie. When she looked around, she noticed that Irina was now
sitting on the closest of the three sofas, watching with a calm, contained expression.
But however contained the expression was, the Russian’s eyes were wide open,
and there was no doubting that she was way into this. No doubt at all.
Carol didn’t know whether to continue. Did the “test” finish here?
Her ass was still grinding in thin air, so she carried on, finger-fucking
herself gently through the aftershock of the orgasm, her hand sticky with pussy
juice, the top of her thighs wet with it too. The silence of the room was
broken only by a series of regular wincing sounds, which she realized were her
own.
Then they stopped. Everything stopped. She felt the hot walls of her
pussy press against her fingers, which were a little way inside her, but had
come to a halt. From behind her she heard Father Hernández rise from his seat
and make his way to the door, his footsteps quick, his steps short. If he was
aroused, he was hiding it well beneath his long black cassock.
Only when he was about to open the door did he turn and look briefly
back at the two of them, a flash of crushing shame in his eyes, as if he wasn’t
sure what he’d done, or, perhaps, what he was about to miss.
Then he was gone. With her eyes still on the door, Carol started to
move her hand again, withdrawing her finger and running it quickly up and down
the length of her sex until she was trembling, her butt jerking, her legs
spread wide.
As she came again, she let her fingers rest on her wet pubes, her
pelvis moving of its own accord with hard little spasms.
And there she remained, her whole body spinning with the most unexpectedly
deep feeling of satisfaction as the climax finally receded. However, she was
still aware of Irina behind her, and as she let her pleasure subside, she
wondered what the next part of the initiation was going to entail.
Chapter Eight
Irina Lescheva was
a recent arrival at the church of San Filipe. She never stayed in any one place
long, and tonight would be her last night here. The business she conducted
through the social centers of different churches across the continent was high
risk, and she moved around a lot, making detection difficult. She had been on the
Cardinal’s radar for several years, and now, after a long and frustrating
search, he had caught up with her.
This evening’s business was to result in considerable extra income
for Father Hernández, which was precisely why Irina managed to inveigle her way
into places like this: she paid well. Tonight’s plan, though, was going to
suffer some last-minute alterations.
“Did you enjoy that?” Irina said, her accent somehow stronger when
she whispered.
She watched as Carol slowly removed her hand from her pants.
“Yes,” Carol said, still with her back to the Russian, making it
sound as if she was overcome by guilt, unable to turn and face her.
“It is good,” Irina whispered. “It is good. Very.”
Carol stayed where she was. And there they remained, neither of them
moving, not looking at each other.
The expectation was just right. She could tell how horny Irina must
be by now. This wasn’t just business. This was pleasure. Between them the air
was electric. They were both as horny as hell. Yet they didn’t move.
“What,” Carol said, in a low, tentative voice, “what shall I do?”
“Anything,” Irina replied, “anything and everything. Free yourself.
Show me everything.”
Carol nodded, obedient. For a moment she seemed to consider the
instructions. Then she slowly removed her shirt and let it fall to the floor.
She loosened her pants and slid them down over her hips.
She turned around, but kept her eyes to the floor, as if still in
the painful process of renouncing all bodily shame. She used a single
and down deep into her ass.
A hollow, huffing sound arose in her throat. The noise brought her
out of her reverie. When she looked around, she noticed that Irina was now
sitting on the closest of the three sofas, watching with a calm, contained expression.
But however contained the expression was, the Russian’s eyes were wide open,
and there was no doubting that she was way into this. No doubt at all.
Carol didn’t know whether to continue. Did the “test” finish here?
Her ass was still grinding in thin air, so she carried on, finger-fucking
herself gently through the aftershock of the orgasm, her hand sticky with pussy
juice, the top of her thighs wet with it too. The silence of the room was
broken only by a series of regular wincing sounds, which she realized were her
own.
Then they stopped. Everything stopped. She felt the hot walls of her
pussy press against her fingers, which were a little way inside her, but had
come to a halt. From behind her she heard Father Hernández rise from his seat
and make his way to the door, his footsteps quick, his steps short. If he was
aroused, he was hiding it well beneath his long black cassock.
Only when he was about to open the door did he turn and look briefly
back at the two of them, a flash of crushing shame in his eyes, as if he wasn’t
sure what he’d done, or, perhaps, what he was about to miss.
Then he was gone. With her eyes still on the door, Carol started to
move her hand again, withdrawing her finger and running it quickly up and down
the length of her sex until she was trembling, her butt jerking, her legs
spread wide.
As she came again, she let her fingers rest on her wet pubes, her
pelvis moving of its own accord with hard little spasms.
And there she remained, her whole body spinning with the most unexpectedly
deep feeling of satisfaction as the climax finally receded. However, she was
still aware of Irina behind her, and as she let her pleasure subside, she
wondered what the next part of the initiation was going to entail.
Chapter Eight
Irina Lescheva was
a recent arrival at the church of San Filipe. She never stayed in any one place
long, and tonight would be her last night here. The business she conducted
through the social centers of different churches across the continent was high
risk, and she moved around a lot, making detection difficult. She had been on the
Cardinal’s radar for several years, and now, after a long and frustrating
search, he had caught up with her.
This evening’s business was to result in considerable extra income
for Father Hernández, which was precisely why Irina managed to inveigle her way
into places like this: she paid well. Tonight’s plan, though, was going to
suffer some last-minute alterations.
“Did you enjoy that?” Irina said, her accent somehow stronger when
she whispered.
She watched as Carol slowly removed her hand from her pants.
“Yes,” Carol said, still with her back to the Russian, making it
sound as if she was overcome by guilt, unable to turn and face her.
“It is good,” Irina whispered. “It is good. Very.”
Carol stayed where she was. And there they remained, neither of them
moving, not looking at each other.
The expectation was just right. She could tell how horny Irina must
be by now. This wasn’t just business. This was pleasure. Between them the air
was electric. They were both as horny as hell. Yet they didn’t move.
“What,” Carol said, in a low, tentative voice, “what shall I do?”
“Anything,” Irina replied, “anything and everything. Free yourself.
Show me everything.”
Carol nodded, obedient. For a moment she seemed to consider the
instructions. Then she slowly removed her shirt and let it fall to the floor.
She loosened her pants and slid them down over her hips.
She turned around, but kept her eyes to the floor, as if still in
the painful process of renouncing all bodily shame. She used a single
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