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Mary smiled as she entered Father John's study and set the tea tray down. "Good afternoon, Father. I thought you might be a bit peckish by now so I brought some of your favorite biscuits as well," she added, beginning to pour.

When he didn't answer right away, she glanced up at him only to notice that his face was quite flushed. Perhaps it was a fever.

"Father, are you well?" The motherly instinct in her brought Mary around the desk to Father John's side. Placing her hand on the back of his neck first and then on his forehead, she felt that he was cool to the touch, but also noticed that he was sitting rather stiffly with his hands on his lap.

Why, it's no fever at all. Least ways not that kind of fever, she thought. She knew he was testy when it was time for that Diane Foster to come round, but she hadn't realized...

Somehow it seemed a bit demeaning for a man of the cloth to have to resort to such things. In a way it shocked her. Mary had never considered that a priest could have a lustful thought, though after some consideration she reasoned that they were only men. And men were that way. Her Harry certainly had been.

Harry often said he'd burst if she didn't do her duty, but she'd never hesitated long enough to find out what exactly did happen if a man was not relieved of certain pressures. Harry had merely said it was quite painful, and she didn't like to see anyone in pain.

Did she dare to 'do her duty' for this man -- this priest? She thought for a moment, feeling a long forgotten and unbidden tingle between her thighs. Mary was in service to Father John even as he was in service to the Good Lord. Would anyone fault her for offering to ease a bit of this poor dear man's discomfort?

Her decision made and tea things forgotten, Mary knelt down beside him. He first looked at her as if she were daft, struggling to hide the frustrated look on his face. Of all the times! "You wish to pray, Mary? Is something wrong?"

"Father John," she said softly, placing her hands over his and moving them aside to reveal his semi-erect penis which was bent at an awkwardly painful looking angle. The poor darling man! Now more than ever, Mary was certain that she would only be doing him a good deed.

"Mary... " Father John struggled to keep his legs crossed as his housekeeper began to unfasten his belt.

"Husheen," she murmured, nudging his legs apart. "It will be all right." The gasp she heard as she took his manhood in her hand told her that she was right.