Father John sat at his desk. He should be working, but his thoughts were filled by Diane. He knew from her confessions that today was the day she chose to go on her 'wanderings' and he wondered what she had done that she would confess on Saturday. As he thought of her sitting or standing there confessing, busy with her hand between her legs and the other playing with her lovely breasts, his penis rose and because it was uncomfortable he unzipped himself, withdrawing it. He started to alternately gently squeeze it, then stroke it slowly a couple of times.

She was about ready, he was sure, for him to absolve all her sins by applying the holy unction, and in his mind's eye he could picture her either bent, kneeling, or lying before him, ready to recieve him and the look of rapture on her face as she received his spendings. At the same time he had a battle with his conscience. He, as a priest was doing wrong. He should be celibate, or that was what his parishioners thought.

He knew different though. Were the brethren celibate when they beat him for having an erection, and then sodomised him, reaching round to masturbete him to climax, so that he remembered the pleasure of ejaculatory release more than the pain. He thought that when he went to the seminary things would be different. Even there the priest tutors used their charges. Of course he had masturbated, but from them he learnt how much more pleasurable the touch of another on his manhood was.

Since he had been ordained, he haad discovered that housekeepers had other duties than keeping house, but as they were usually much older he got much relief, but little pleasure.

Since he discovered the need of some female parishioners for the special absolution that came with holy unction, he supposed he had had about twelve who seemed to know when the unction was no longer needed, but none had obsessed him the way that Diane was doing. He wanted her so much and yet, even though in other cases he would have taken them on their first visit to the presbitery, with Diane he was frightened that it might break the spell that he had put her under, causing her to rebel.

He could see her now, her mature figure and her big breasts. He could almost smell the subtle perfume she wore, mingling with the smell of woman, as her fingers squishilly pistonned back and forth in her vagina. OH!! How he wanted her, needed her. Needed to sink himself into her.

His hand was moving faster and faster up and down the shaft of his hardness. He knew that he should save it for, but he was powerless when he fantasised. He lost all will.

Just as he was about to approach, the home straight, of his manual stimulation, there was a knock on the door.

'Tea Father?' asked the voice of his housekeeper muffled by the door.

Then the handle began to turn, and he hurriedly tried to make himself decent, but he seemed to be all fingers and thumbs. He couldn't get it away. The door was opening and in desperation he pushed it down between his legs and crossed them, hoping against hope that it was hidden and that she would not glance down past the desk top as she entered.

Then she was there at the open door with his tray.

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'Johnny hasn't come yet.' said Auntie Joan, idly stirring her tea with her left hand.