War Of The World II - Part 5 free porn video

Part 5 - The Miracle of Westminster

Big Ben struck half past midnight as we entered the eastern end of the bridge. It astounded me for a second that it was little more than twelve hours since I had first laid eyes on the Contessa and Bernhardt. Yet I realised that we had a bond with each such that I knew I would lay down my life for them, and them for me. I hoped the night ahead would not prove the truth of that realisation. 

I could tell that Bernhardt was eager to prove himself against the enemy, chomping at the bit to be put to the test like a true warrior. He knew that the British army had been decimated by the Martians last time, caught unprepared for their fore planning and vastly superior weapons. He knew they would be prepared for this round, and he wished as all warriors do to be proven equal to the task ahead and better. 

But he had a more important job - to look after the safety and welfare of the Contessa. He was, after all, no longer a member of his adopted country's military machine, but a private citizen and in the employ of the Contessa's father. 

I could tell that the Contessa was nervous. I took her hand and looked down at her. She returned my look, eyes wide open, brow knitted. 

"Lets stop a second before we cross the bridge - we need to change our plan," I instructed. 

We stopped. 

"Without you we wouldn't have had the chance to prepare for this," I said to the Contessa. "If we survive as a country, as a race, then it's partly down to you." I squeezed her hand and smiled at her. 

She looked up at me, somewhat forlorn, a pained e_xpression on her face. "But I don't want to die..." she said, pausing as if needing to say more but not sure if she should. 

"I don't want to die either. We don't have the time to get back to my practice on Harley Street. But I was only going for my case, my drugs, my equipment, because my medical skills will be required tonight and in the coming days like never before."

I could feel a pained expression crossing my face as I thought back to the first invasion when those very skills were not enough to save Mary. In my head I knew that It was not my fault, but in my heart I would forever blame myself for not being sufficiently skilled for her needs. 

Both of my new companions caught the look. The memory had caught me without warning and I had not had enough time to steel my expression. I braced myself and started again, but I could see the concern in their eyes. 

"Behind us is St Thomas' hospital. That's the place that I can do the most good. I also think that it's one of the safest places to be," I said. 

"How long do we have, do you think?" Bernhardt asked us both. 

"Forty five minutes? An hour if we're lucky," the Contessa said. 

"Plenty time then. I feel the need to pray. Follow me please." 

So saying he headed off at a jog. Within five minutes we were in the vast cavernous candle lit Westminster Abbey, further past the Palace of Westminster and Big Bens clock tower. A large granite Abbey in the Gothic style, it dated in its present form from the Middle Ages. I hadn't expected my companions to be impressed, having travelled a lot throughout Europe, and spent many a year in the home country of the Roman Catholic Church, but there were ooohs and ahhhhs as we walked down the centre of the nave. A rather imposing space, well over a hundred feet high, it was awe inspiring even for one such as myself who has been there on numerous occasions. On a night such as that with the shadows closing in on you, the candle light barely touching the ceiling if you strained your eyes, flickering across and vitalizing the many iconic statues, it was difficult not to believe in the glory of God and the mysteries that abound. It was also entirely possible to feel agoraphobic and claustrophobic both at the same time. Was it that mixed feeling that we confused as awe? 

By sheer coincidence, I knew the Archbishop of this diocese, Archbishop Lynott. I left Bernhardt to pray with the Contessa and went to see if I could find him. I was eventually lucky enough to find him at the confessionals, a pair of highly ornate wooden cubicles adjoined, with curtains at their entries. He was happy to see a familiar face in about all the turmoil as he exited from behind the curtain. Although there were a lot of worried faces and families in the pews I think I had expected there to be more. I guess they were maybe more interested in being safe in this life rather in the next so had remained to man the barricades. Perhaps they had got caught up in the type of religion we had just witnessed, and had joined in the singing and church sponsored fornicating. I'm certainly not one to sit in judgement. 

There were a few crying figures, though mostly they were hidden away in the dark corners - people who wished to be allowed to be alone with their faith in their time of need. 

We shook hands and greeted each other warmly. I knew him vaguely through his brothers new young wife being a patient of mine who needed regular sessions. 

I explained that I was here with friends, one of whom was Italian royalty, who wished to pray. I could see that he was impressed - it's always nice, if not desirable to get a royal patronage. Or in the case of the Abbey, yet another royal patronage. He asked for an introduction, and I was happy to oblige. 

As we walked down the aisle towards my companions they were talking animatedly in Italian, complete with the exaggerated hands that you come to expect of those raised in Mediterranean climes. It wasn't an argument but was definitely a heated discussion, and being in the Contessa's mother tongue I had no idea what was being said. There were genuine smiles on both sides. We let them finish before interrupting and introducing them. There were handshakes and bows and smiles all round. 

"Archbishop Lynott," said the Contessa. "Could you possibly do me a huge favour?" 

I stepped back, because this was obviously nothing to do with me. I wandered away out of hearing distance and came across the strangest thing. 

In amongst the grave slabs was a stone that appeared out of time. Mostly the slabs were well worn from centuries of being walked over. Kings and queens and famous clergy were buried around the Abbey - household names. The one that I found looked like it had been laid recently, and bore a name I had never heard before, and dates that had not yet come about. 

It read:

Here lies what was mortal of Stephen Hawking 1942 - 2018 

And there was an equation that meant nothing to me in amongst a swirling maelstrom. 

How curious! It was - as if it had been transported back in time. Was someone playing a joke? Was God sending us a message? Did someone have a time machine? I turned around to ask the Archbishop about it and found him, hands clasped, a few steps behind me with a big grin on his face. Before I could ask he took my elbow and urged me to follow him as he had a surprise waiting for me. 

Not a clue did I have. I couldn't help notice that he now had his full regalia on, including his bigger, fancier mitre, signifying his bigger and fancier relationship with God I suppose. Curiouser and curiouser ...

I was dumbstruck to see Bernhardt and the Contessa waiting for me at the front of the church by the altar. Bernhardt had the biggest smile, and the Contessa had acquired a white shawl and a white lace veil from somewhere - I guessed from the Archbishop himself. 

An organist had appeared as if from nowhere and started playing Handels Water Music. I must have looked a sight. I looked around at the majestic surroundings. It was literally the church where British Royalty had their coronations since the eleventh century. The sense of history was everywhere surrounding us. Were I not in shock it would have been in equal parts oppressive and impressive. 

Archbishop Lynott urged me forward to where my companions waited. Bernhardt tried not to laugh. "What's going on?" I asked him silently with a querying look. 

He shook his head and indicated across to where the Contessa stood. I looked across at her - and my heart skipped as the penny finally dropped. She looked stunning, glancing at me coyly through her veil, eyelashes flashing. It wasn't until later that I realized she must have been terrified. This was no fait accompli - I could still have turned her down even at this late hour. After all, how often do people get married quite so soon after meeting?

The Archbishop lined me up between them then moved around in front of me. We all faced him. The Contessa held up a finger to stop proceedings. "Just a second, please," she said. She leaned in towards me and whispered, "I started to say that I didn't want to die ... Virgo intacta. I was hoping that you would do me the great honour of helping to prevent such a terrible fate."

I was lost for words for a few seconds while my brain processed things. 

The Contessa wanted to be married before she could lose her virginity. Bernhardt wanted to hand over responsibility to someone willing and able to look after the Contessa so that in all good conscience he could help fight the invaders - and obviously not just anyone would do. He obviously trusted me with the safety and welfare of this wonderful girl. I had fallen head over heels with her. I felt a link with the Contessa that I didn't understand yet. And she wanted me to deflower her beautiful sweet little honeypot. To take her carnal desires to places unvisited, but not undreamt. 

All of these thoughts, as well as visions of her writhing on the chair in my practice swam through my head in about half a nanosecond. 

My face lit up. "It will be my eternal pleasure Contessa," I said, bowing slightly. I found out later that we were now both officially members of the Abbey and would be expected to uphold the traditions, provide raffle prizes for annual fetes, judge vegetable shows and carry out various other obligations. However, the smile that she beamed at me through her veil was worth ten time that. 

I turned to Bernhardt and accused him. "This was your plan coming here to pray, wasn't it?" He gave me an "it might have been" shrug. And then a sly grin. 

I took his hand in both of mine and shook it. I could see that he wanted to squeeze hard, but understood that I might need my surgeons hands that night. "Thank you. Will you be my best man?" I asked him. 

It was his turn to smile again. I don't believe he thought I could do him a greater honour. He nodded solemnly, and stood proudly by my side. 

I had kept Mary's wedding ring on a chain around my neck for many a year, and it was now time to give it a new home. I passed the chain to Bernhardt. 

I turned back to the Archbishop and nodded to him to proceed. 

"We are gathered here together in the eyes of Our Lord ..." 

I must confess that I glazed my way through most of the service. I couldn't believe my luck. I know that he cut the service as short as protocol and the law allowed, as there was not a lot of time. 

When it came to the vows I had to say my full name - Franklin Nathan Stein. I thought Bernhardt was going to have a fit laughing. "You have got to be fucking shitting me!" he exclaimed. "Oops, sorry your Archbishopness."

Then it was finally time to kiss the bride. I lifted her veil and took her in my arms. I could have stayed there with our lips locked together forever, but things needed done and there was not much time. It was only when we broke apart that I realised we had gathered around three hundred fellow celebrants who were clapping loudly and wolf whistling. People of all ages and walks of life were joining in. I felt honoured by their joy, whilst realising that they needed some normality to cling to as the aliens fell from the heavens that they normally prayed to. 

"Thank you, thank you," I said, hushing them. "My wife and I invite you back to my place for tea and cake," I paused. "And I'm sure we can find some single malt too." Cheers erupted again. 

I turned to the Archbishop, a sudden need gripping me. 

"Forgive me father for I have sinned," I said. "I feel an urgent need to confess."

"Really?" The Archbishop asked, perplexed. But Bernhardt just laughed at me again, without doubt instantly understanding where I was going with this. He handed me a bottle of communion wine, which I took a long hard draught of and passed to the Contessa. 

"Yes, now would be most propitious. Come along Mrs Stein, time for a confession." So saying I took her by the hand and strode off back towards the ornate booths. 

The confessional booth was tight for two. But I knew we could make it work. We beat the Archbishop to the small cubicles and drew the curtain to hide us from the congregation. 

"I believe that your prize for the heads and tails bet is that you get to go on top," I whispered in the Contessa's ear. I decided in that moment that I would always love that smile that I received in return, and I have never regretted that decision. I nibbled her ear lobe and then kissed her again. 

I didn't believe it was possible to so quickly go from full clothing to being mounted in a small confessional stall. Truth be told not all clothing was discarded - only the necessities. 

The Archbishop sat down in the next stall and slid back the door over the latticed opening just as the Contessa straddled me with one foot either side of my hips on the confessional seat and, taking ahold of my erection impaled herself on it. She was so hot and so damp and so tight. We both moaned in unison. In fact I thought I heard a third moan - but it could possibly have been an echo. 

"Forgive me Father for I have s-i-i-i nnned," I managed. 

"We," the Contessa said as she slid back up me, squeezing me with her internal muscles. And then down again, relaxing in this half of the stroke, sheathing me completely. "We have s-i-i-i-nnnnned. And oh my it has been so very tempting to have sinned a lot more," she continued. 

"Oh Lord!... Forgive us for lusting after this beautiful sin," I moaned. My eyes were closed as I savoured the weight of my new brides passion. 

"How have you sinned my children. Give me details ..."

"Jesus Christ! ... Forgive me, I have committed sins of pride and sins of the flesh," the Contessa said between gasps, as she rode me like a Grand National jockey, working a fine rhythm. "I have lusted after the good doctor here and been proud to have him lust after me." 

"That's good that is..." I said with a huge grin on my face. 

"Details please my dear ..."

"I have performed acts on him more reminiscent of a back alley whore than a Contessa, and not allowed him to finish the act as nature would have him. But I swear on my mothers grave that this marriage was legitimate in the eyes of the Lord and in the laws of my ancestors."

"So you haven't actually..?" the Archbishop asked hopefully. 

"No, your Archbishopness, but she did suck my cock in the back of a carriage going over Tower Bridge," I said, lapsing into the more common parlance. I couldn't for the world have remembered the word 'fellate' if you had threatened to cut my left testicle off with a blunt pair of scissors. 

"I knew it! I fucking knew it!" came an instantly recognisable cry from the pews. I laughed. 

"Mmmmmm, what was it like?" came a hopeful voice from the next cubicle. "Hurry, tell me. I haven't long ... sorry - WE haven't long."

The Contessa interrupted me before I could talk, but she didn't slow her rhythm for which I was grateful. 

"I performed fellatio on him Father. I had wanted to since the very moment we met. It was thick and straight and long. It was hot and masculine. It tasted strong and earthy. Mmmmmm.... I wished to coat my throats with his emissions... Never have I tasted such a wonderful cock. And I loved the feel of his balls, Father, playing with his big hairy man stones, feeling them pulse for me. It gave me a feeling of power and control while being in a position as subservient to him. Such delicious feelings Father."

"That's good my dear. It wasn't what I wanted to hear, but it'll do. Unburden yourself. Jesus is listening ..." The Archbishops voice sounded somewhat strained. 

"Father forgive me - I have lusted after women too."

"You have?" I asked. This was news to me. 

"Mmmmm tell me more my dear ..." came from the adjacent stall. 

"Of course I have. Haven't you wondered about how it would be to lay with a man? No? Why not? Well, not half an hour ago across the river I wished to be with Selina, such a pretty, devout girl. We could be devout girls together, don't you think Father?" she asked with a wink at me and a smile. "I'm sure you could teach us how to ring the Lords praises properly, couldn't you? Show us the errors of our ways, help us be clean and pure in His eyes. Maybe ... even .... punish us if we wrong? If my husband will allow it of course, since I am now his property in the eyes of the Lord."

My husband - that had a nice ring to it. I could hear the Archbishops breathing speed up. 

"Personally I always find that over-the-knee skin-to-skin works best Father, what do you think? It's too easy to lose control if a cane or a belt is used, and it quickly can slip into abuse." With that my beautiful, magical wife raised herself slightly from my lap and smacked her own bare buttock sharply using her hand and moaned. "Oh yes, Father I've been a naughty girl ..." She slowed her rhythm and smacked herself again. "Ohhhhh ... mmmmmm! Yes that's it Father, punish me ...Show me the errors of my ways."

I had to bite my knuckle to stop from laughing out loud. I hadn't known her for very long, but I knew that I loved this woman deeply. 

She sat back down on my lap squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing. I was tensing myself and relaxing, tensing and relaxing. I hadn't realized how much pleasure you could gain without actually moving, with just pure muscle control. I had never felt more physically in tune with someone. I pulled her to me and kissed her hard. 

"Father, did you know that my very talented husband is a master of tongues? Esperto di sesso orale. " she said, and stood up where she had squatted, one foot either side of where I sat. Right in front of me was what I craved most in the world. I grabbed a buttock in each hand and pulled her towards my face. 

I heard a strangled moan from the next stall. 

"Yes Father, I fell in love with his oral skills while he brought me to orgasm anally. Can you believe it?"

I heard a small voice answer, "Yes my dear I can..." It sounded like there was a white dove in the stall with him trying to take off, white wings beating like mad. 

Inhaling her intimate scent into my soul I kissed the sensitive skin high on the inside of each thigh before licking the moisture from her juicy lips with the very tip of my tongue, caressing her only very gently. I felt her knees go weak but held her up. She moaned loudly. I looked up into her eyes - she looked down on me breathing deeply, a flush across her cheeks. 

"Stop teasing me you bastard," she said with more love and lust in her voice than I had ever heard before. 

I dug my fingers into her backside and pulled her onto my face, spreading her with my tongue. There was a slight tang of iron, but I cared not a jot. I ate her like a hungry tramp with the finest fillet steak - without finesse, just pure greed. Licking and lapping and sucking and nibbling. Grabbing and pulling. I adored the taste of her - I couldn't get enough. If I am ever to be hanged, and offered one last meal ...

This was a whole new experience to me - not the dutiful copulating for reproduction that I had been used to with Mary, God bless her soul. The legs open, lights out, head turned away and don't move Victorian era sex - if we must I'll do it like a good dutiful wife. I blame the damnation and fire and brimstone and guilt laced teachings of the Calvinistic Protestant faith for that - not my good and faithful wife. 

This was heated and passionate. This was twentieth century hedonistic sex. Sex for the sake of sex. Pleasure for the sake of pleasure. What had I been missing? This had the potential to turn into full gay abandon!

"I'm ready, " the Contessa said. I heard a breathy 'so am I' from the next box. "I want you inside me..." she panted. "I need you my love."

I helped her climb down and turned her around to face the wall. She leant forward, trousers at her knees, legs spread as far apart as possible. I put one hand on her back, pushing her even further forward and then ran my cock back and fore between arse and clit several times before parting her lips and thrusting forward hard into the satiny slickness of her beautiful warm quim. I quickly built up a rhythm. 

Her breathing was getting shallower, speeding up in time with my thrusts. 

Even though we were speeding up physically it felt as if time itself was slowing down as it can do at the most important times in life. 

As we both neared our orgasmic release I could feel every pulse throughout my body, my heartbeat thumped in my ears, my skin felt radiant, my brain was on fire. As a doctor I knew that adrenaline and other chemicals were coursing through my system, but as a participant in this most intimate dance I thanked God for the cliff edge towards which I sped. 

It was then that I believe a true miracle occurred. 

Or possibly even the next step in human evolution, though only time will tell. This was an occurrence I had never heard nor read of happening before in all my religious and spiritual readings nor in the many annals of scientific learning that I had pored through. Nor have I heard of it happening to any other person - not even the Indian tantrists although they have at least tried dedicating themselves to trying to achieve it. 

There are many channels of pseudo-scientific nonsense in this world that people choose to believe in. The healing vibrations of certain crystals, homeopathy, seances and spirit readings to name but a few. Without exception they are there to fleece the gullible and make money and bring power to the charlatan. And as a man in the medical profession - don't even get me started on faith healers ...

If I were to be trying to sell you this miraculous occurrence, tell you that you too could experience it if you believed hard enough, had the right amount of faith in the one true God and gave me lots of money then you would have every right to accuse me of being a snake oil salesman, a crook or a charlatan and run me out of town on the sharp end of your pitchforks. In fact I would go as far as to recommend that particular course of action. Please - don't give these scoundrels your time, let alone your hard earned money. 

And even though I'm clearly not out to fleece you - I am asking neither for money nor power - I cannot blame you for having a heavy dose of skepticism about what I have to recount - much as I would were the roles reversed. 

To put it as succinctly as possible - as we were consumed with our earthly pleasures our spiritual entities merged together. I have come to think of it as our very souls joining. 

No, I don't blame you for disbelieving me. It's okay, I quite understand your cynicism. In fact such extreme claims deserve granite clad proof, and I am sorry to say I have none to offer. However, I know what happened and I will never change my story. 

This was the first time it happened, but not the last. And as it was the first time, it came as a bit of a surprise, as you can imagine. I have said already in this narrative that I had felt an unusual connection with the Contessa. Never could I have imagined that connection could be so extreme, nor so beautiful. 

Like a pan of water heated slowly on the stove, it was not an instantaneous event, more of a gradual realization. I first noticed that something was not-as-I-was-accustomed-to by an increasingly strange feeling in my perineum, the muscular area in the case of a man like a backward reaching extension of the penis between his testicles and anus. 

It was as if for every thrust that I made into my beautiful bride, the same thrust was being made into me. I did of course check that neither Bernhardt nor Archbishop Lynott had for some reason decided that this marriage consummation required an uninvited third party. There was no-one behind me in the darkened stall. Was someone playing a practical joke? Had the Holy Spirit come down from Heaven to join us? 

Even as I was tempted to stop and find out what was going on, the scientist part of me knew that I needed to collect more data. I wasn't planning to stop my thirst for knowledge any time soon. 

The feeling spread outwards to my buttocks - it felt as if they were being pressed from behind, smacked by big solid thighs. And inwards too, I was feeling more and more as if I was being physically penetrated. It most definitely wasn't my anus though, I knew that much. This was far outwith my experience. My testicles felt like someone was playing conkers with them, knocking them against someone else's. 

And then, the strangest thing - the Contessa took one hand from the wall and started touching her erect clitoris, and my knees went weak - because I felt it. I had to focus so that I didn't collapse under her. I had felt her touch an organ than was not there, had never been there. I have heard of amputees feeling pain in appendages that were no longer there, due no doubt to the connection of nerves still being active. However this was entirely different. My brain felt as if it was connected to a nine volt battery and small beautiful lightning showers were leaping across it. It was almost too much for me to take in, but I owed it to my new wife to persevere. 

My list of incredible experiences kept growing. Next I could feel 'my' pert young breasts, held in such smooth silk lace, bouncing with each thrust, 'my' nipples so sensitive, rubbing against the exquisite material, feeling every thread. And still the Contessa was rubbing 'my' clitoris.

All this time I was still feeling all the physicality that I was accustomed to feeling as a man, the testosterone coursing rampant through my system, the musculature of my legs and arms as I held her and thrust into her, the sexual sensations in my manhood, slick within the tight heat of my lover, the pulsing of my blood, the quickening pace of my heart as my body raced towards my inevitable climax. 

I was also still fully aware of the emotional feelings - the need to protect, and to please my new bride whilst obviously gaining pleasure myself as well. These emotions were perhaps heightened by the very real dangers that I knew we would be facing literally minutes later. 

Part of me wondered if we should not perhaps have been taking ourselves somewhere safer, getting away from this inevitable target. The rest of me ganged up like schoolyard bullies and battered that part into almost instant submission. 

So the desire to please her in case something should happen to me was paramount in my mind. I wanted her to have only good memories of our time together should it in fact not even last one rotation of the earth. 

But now those sensations, both physical and emotional, were being added to, even multiplied in some cases. 

I wondered if we could share other senses. I leant forward and whispered in the Contessa's ear, "Suck your fingers for me."

"Lo senti anche tu?"

Yes, I felt it too, but the Contessa's voice was inside my head talking Italian - and I understood it! Even our minds were connected now. 

"Questo è cosi sorpendente!" I heard, shrill in my mind, the excitement possibly more than her royal bearing would allow her to express out loud. She was right though, it certainly was amazing. 

"È sempre cosi?"

"No, this is something very special, it's never been like this before.," I replied through our thought link. 

I felt her fingers both on my manhood and inside 'me' at the same time, and bizarrely they felt like my fingers at the same time. We coated our fingers in our juices til they dripped off of our knuckles. 

Our knuckles? My knuckles? Her knuckles? Had I thought too hard about it in that moment then everything would have come to a grinding halt. It is only subsequently that the supplying of labels has become a problem. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow and live the experience. Especially when it is as groundbreaking and vital as that one most certainly was. 

When she sucked her fingers as I had asked, my mouth watered. I could taste her. But she tasted slightly different than she had only a minute or so previously.

”Mmmm I love that I can taste you in me, husband, ” she thought to me as she sucked her fingers. Of course, because I was still inside her my own flavours would be added more to the wonderful cocktail. 

Although thoughts and feelings and emotions were merging and combining it wasn't as if we were becoming one entity - we could still actively communicate with each other. 

”I love the feel of having a prick. No wonder you men think you rule the world with these hard in front of you. It's so... potente? Potent! Powerful! And I love that you are so strong!" the Contessa actively squealed. 

The internal electricity intensified across our brains, sending us spinning down through a warm wet tropical maelstrom together into the void. Or was it a whirling galaxy of stars that we expanded into? I don't know for sure, but lights of every colour flashed around us like synapses. 

Individual thoughts disappeared to be replaced by pure emotions, pure feelings. Lust, passion, joy, trust, unalloyed happiness and erotic love were paramount in the mix, but there were others undeniably there too. Loss, despair, hatred, dread and fear were all simmering gently under the surface. A total panoply of human emotions was there for us to dip into, and there was never any doubt which ones we would choose. 

Swirling, coursing, thrusting, throbbing, tensing. Time lost its meaning to us in that locale. Ten seconds? Ten minutes? Ten hours?

But all too soon it felt our bodies dragged us back, erupting like geysers, exploding both to the heavens above and to Mother Earth below at the same instant. It was mind-blowing to experience not only my own release but also that of my beloved, whose release I had only manufactured and witnessed prior to that moment. 

Female orgasms may not be, in general, as visual a spectacle as that of males, but I have intimate knowledge that it can be so much more physically intense. It surprised me that either of us were still breathing by the time the final tremors left our bodies - I had counted twelve very distinct releases of a steadily decreasing intensity from the Contessa - leaving us shaking, laughing and to be crassly honest, absolutely dripping. We both had sweat running down our backs and other mixed bodily fluids running in rivulets down between where we were still actively merged - in body at least. It felt as if we were stuck together at the thigh, and had we never parted how perfect that would have been - to have lived forever in that moment of post-coital ecstasy.... 

The Contessa helped herself to some of our mixed emissions and tasted it with a sigh. "Abbiamo un buon sapore insieme," she said softly. 

I realised that I no longer had the foggiest idea of which she spoke, nor could I taste our interminglings on her tongue. Obviously our merging was undoing itself in much the same way that we had connected in the first place - gradually, softly. Every breath that I exhaled reduced the area of our link. I was glad that it was thus, rather than an instantaneous break, which I believe could have led to shock. 

We were both drinking in the air to fill our lungs as the last connection between us, the same one as the first, finally dissipated. The world outwith our small dark cubicle began to creep back into my senses. 

I opened my eyes. We were somehow still stood, leaning into each other to remain upright. Over the Contessa's shoulder I could see through the latticework into the adjacent booth. There was the Archbishop, eyes closed, blissful smile on his lips, sitting back with his small flaccid penis in his hand, with what looked like a few new pearlescent glints on his fancy white frock. He must have sensed me looking at him. 

"You know how it goes...," he said through his grin. "Say some Hail Marys ... that sort of thing. And - I'll expect to see you both back here next Sunday?" he added hopefully. 

I was about to retort when we were interrupted by a loud sharp slam of a heavy door being heaved open, followed almost instantly by a cry of, "They're coming! They're coming!"

I smiled a most satisfied smile, and heard a giggle from the Contessa. 

But then we heard the panicked commotion of the people in the pews, and reality hit home.