Chapter Three

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The following morning changed from dull to bright as Ian approached the church and found the main door half open. "Is there anybody in here?" there was no reply as the cool of the building entered.

His eyes adjusted to the gloom. He noted the interior was clean, the linen cloth on the altar spotless.

Still wearing her overalls, Mary stepped from the shadows with a mop and bucket in her hands. "I clean after every service, Vicar."

He smiled. "From what I can see, you do a brilliant job."

"It's what I'm paid for." She turned and left.

Ian watched her, doubtful Mary would ever change. She had seen vicars come and go.

He returned to the vicarage, climbing the stairs to avoid disturbing Mary. He heard a noise behind him as he opened the door to his office. On turning, Mary was standing at the top of the stairs.

"I tried not to interrupt you."

She moves towards him. "I heard you. Can't be too careful these days, especially in the country. Thieves target out-of-the-way houses."

Ian grinned. "I'm about to have a look at my work schedule. You can't miss anything important, you know, choir practice, future weddings and such."

"I'll leave you to it." She turned and descended the stairs.

Seated at a large, dark wooden desk, he observed the chaos before him. Books and paperwork in no particular order. "From chaos comes order," he muttered as he sifted through the mess. He noted the routine services on Sunday morning, noon, and evening. "Nothing out of the ordinary there," he said out loud, placing the document to one side.

He opened a book labelled Village Hall. Inside the cover, he found a year calendar. It listed the Cubs, Scouts, W I, Keep Fit classes, and committee meetings. More critical, the dates, names, telephone numbers and addresses of those responsible.

Sometime later, everything on his desk found a named folder. He glanced at his watch. He opened a file marked WI and telephoned Mrs Kathleen Wright. It is time to introduce myself to the village.

She answered on the first ring.

Ian introduced himself and asked if it was convenient to visit that afternoon.


"Of course, Vicar. About three would be lovely. Tea or coffee."

"Whatever is easiest."

She giggled like a young girl. "Look forward to meeting you."

Ian's mood lightened when he left the gloom of the house and began his walk through the village.

He reread Kathleen's address on his handwritten note. While he stood there, his eyes scanned the house and garden. It was tidy, a manicured lawn the centrepiece surrounded by roses. The front door opened.

A woman in her mid-thirties waved. "You've found me, and you're on time. What more could a woman want?"

Her long, loose blonde hair shimmered in the light. The gentle breeze lifted her long skirt enough to reveal shapely legs. Her smile gave a subtle touch of shyness.

No problem," said Ian, with a sparkle in his eyes.

"I have the coffee ready and some scones straight from the oven."

She stood back enough for him to enter. The scent of an expensive perfume assaulted his senses.

"Please make yourself comfortable in my front room. How do you like your coffee?

"White and no sugar, please."

"I'll be two minutes."

On returning, she handed him his cup and placed a plate of jam-filled scones on a side table. Kathleen sat in an armchair opposite him. Comfortable, she pushed at the heels of her shoes until they were off. With the smile of an angel, she asked, "What did you do so wrong to end up here?"

"Where do I start? I upset the bishop, who wanted me out of the way before I did too much harm. Anyway, I'm here to see if I can help you."

She looked away from him. "Since my husband left, I've put my heart and soul into the WI. I have suffered from many of our members with an unusual problem. They believe I'm after their husbands. When mine left, it became one of the best days of my life. I don't want another to upset my life."

He waited until she stopped talking. "Divorce is a modern disease. I'm sure most men and women who marry or commit to each other do not plan for a divorce." His mind wandered. She was rather attractive. The soft curves of her body and striking wide eyes would attract most men. Her kind of beauty came from her soul. Ian noticed she was watching his every move.

From out of nowhere, she asked, "Do you enjoy being a vicar?"

"I wouldn't be one if I didn't love my work. People say it's a calling, and I admit its mystery drew me in."

"You're a Christian vicar, which means you can marry."

"Correct, but why these questions?"

"Are you gay?"

"Not in any way."

"How do you know you're not? Have you tried?"

He paused. "To answer your question, I've never fancied a man, and the Bible states that sex should always be between a man and a woman. It's called reproduction."

A hint of amusement spread across her face. "You know your housekeeper is a lesbian. "

"She's my housekeeper, not my lover, so why does it matter? Each to their own."

She moved and sat beside him, placing one hand on his thigh. "The moment you entered my house, my need was instant. Whatever you want, we will do. It's been a long time since I've wanted sex."

This is not why I came to see you."

"Vicar, get on with it. I don't yell and won't tell."

Ian could feel the warmth of her body as her scent tantalised his senses. With tenderness, his right hand slid between her open thighs. He watched her body start to writhe as her need arose.

"That's wonderful," she whispered.

"It will improve if we lay on the floor and remove your underwear."

She slid onto the carpet and removed her knickers.

Ian parted her legs, lowered his head and let his tongue and fingers do their work.

Her back began to arch. "Please don't stop. This is so mind-blowing."

Ian slowed his movements until her organism consumed her. She moaned, her body arched as her thighs pressed against his head. Out of control, she gave soft squeals of pleasure.

With her hunger sated, he rolled onto his back. Without hesitation, she rolled onto and mounted him. She continued until he climaxed, and she was exhausted.

Drained, she lay next to him.

As she went to move, he rolled her over. "Get on your hands and knees." He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her onto him.

"I'm drained."

"No, you're not."

She shuddered as a tsunami of enjoyment swamped her.

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