Pathfinder The Trio
- 1 year ago
- 21
- 0
College Trio free porn video
“Greeting his seasoned, experienced, hardened, and worldly eyes was an invigorating tonic to his jaded cynical mind; three heart shaped trimmed pubic mounds.”
A cigarette before sex always calmed Monsignor Bernard’s mind.
It was a chill clear evening as he looked up, the moon waxing crescent. Frost was certain. The mush of late autumn leaves were rusty and soggy under his feet as he looked down. However, his regular glance was through the sparse trees to the secured wooden door in the ivy covered wall that opened onto the cloister of the diocese all girls boarding college for refined young ladies or as their parents hoped virginal incarceration . It was nearly nine as he glanced at his watch.
It was confession that had led to this evening. Not his own, Bernard had ceased to grapple with his own conscience unlike Jacob who wasted a whole night wrestling with an angel. Jacob had left unattended two horny wives and two equally unrequited servants for lesbian mischief. He always wanted to include that in a Sunday sermon. He couldn’t currently find a way to work it in even with a morality angle.
Confession by senior eighteen year old college girls: the highlight of Bernard’s week. They were young but definitely not so innocent. What they considered sin Bernard thought was life education. Still he played by the rules when it was required if they suited him. He listened intently, drawing out easily the libidinous and smutty details that often gave him a boner in the confessional.
The college chapel was nineteenth century tasteful Romanesque revival at the northern end of the cloister. It had been constructed by faith in a series of serene uncomplicated arches and plain windows that diffused an unearthly light for those who trusted the unseen to assuage their bodies. Bernard was a convert to human touch or a cigarette in the interim, either being infinitely more rewarding for alleviating self doubt. He never had any self doubt at the point of orgasm.
The actual confessional was crafted with a devotion Bernard now lacked. It was entirely constructed of striking ornate oak. The dividing grille was an elaborate lattice of mini crucifixes. Bernard remembered last week’s confessionals as he took a lingering drag on his unfiltered fag. He recalled clearly ‘his senior’ about to graduate, pristine angels when in choir harmony, with their pure virginal hearts. However, trying to contain slutty heated thoughts as they were seated silently in a row with legs crossed waiting to confess all.
Trapped in their demure excessively modest ankle length navy dresses, white blouses buttoned to the collar and tightly cuffed at their wrists. Sweet young bodies denied their natural flaunting tease of attraction by a rigorous century old rule book that imprisoned breasts and soft thighs in unflattering, unappealing and deliberately unattractive clothes.
Traditional old school blazers and white gloves added to the impersonal uniformity. However, their lively, sneaky, devilish eyes always gave them away; along with their whispered, privately revealed litany of salacious, perceived sins.
The three senior students he was now waiting for floated lazily through his mind like the smoke rings he was practising; whiling away inconsequential minutes, because the rest of the night was his.
He recalled, sweet seductive Erica, the sports captain, who tried vainly to channel her excessive energy into individual excellence or boisterous team pursuits. She had recently been crowned National under nineteen hurdles champion. Bernard was going to see how far Erica could really stretch those legs.
Erica began her confession with the sign of the cross, then garbled out; “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was two weeks ago. I missed last week’s because of the National championships"
“What have to confess ” said Bernard. Knowing she was nubile and ready.
“Monsignor…I have touched myself repeatedly…too many times …to recall the number…I was so excited after winning the title …I came twice with the shower jet..Plus I had impure thoughts concerning the whole under twenty-one National weightlifting team.”
There was that natural sincerity in her voice. She never made anything up. Reality was way ahead of online written erotica which Bernard was developing a penchant for.
“Three Hail Mary’s, purchase two candles…and in future…. recite your rosary… after…sorry before temptation.”
“Thank you Monsignor”
Next it was the seemingly demure, modest and meek faced but hormone raging Bethany, the angelic lead voice of the choir. A rare coloratura Soprano, destined for the International Opera scene. It was Bernard’s desire to find out what sexual note she would hit with an intense orgasm.
Bethany began her confession with the sign of the cross, and then whispered “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was last week”
“What have to confess,” said Bernard. She had recently turned eighteen. She had a woman’s needs.
“Monsignor…forgive me…I took one of my penance candles to self pleasure myself all through the week…I committed the graver sin of sharing a bed with Chastity Palmer who fingered my vagina and anus…oh forgive me”
Bernard wanted to dispense a vibrator but it was the usual Hail Mary’s and no candles this week.
Finally the inappropriately named Chastity Palmer was on the other side of the grille, the chaste in her name had disappeared a long time ago. She was however, the linguist of the college, in more than one way. She spoke several languages and was learning three more currently. Chastity was a true cunning linguist who shared her talented tongue around the dorm at night, creating damp patches of liquid delight as she whispered obscenities in tongues to get her victim into the zone. Chastity was beyond confession and her penance was preordained, every week it was organising a new assignation.
Chastity began with “Okay Bernie… my cigarettes and my flask of vodka first.”
“In the secret compartment by the alter as per usual…there is a vibrator as an extra treat" No pause, then:
“Okay…what have you planned for this week?”
“The infirmary as usual, be at the cloister door at nine."
Bernard stubbed his cigarette, grounding it under his heavy black boot. It was nine. Chastity was always punctual. The tower bell pealed for nine. Punctuality; was one of the rare useful life values that was instilled by a private religious education. This assignation was timed to coincide with the sister’s regular Thursday evening vigil for the less fortunate; Bernard was on his own mission to assist the sexually needy. A vocation in life is a true calling.
“Ah Chastity…are we organised” …it was always a slight let down if Chastity failed to lure the nominated prey. Still regularly fucking Chastity was preferable to abstinence.
“Yes… but I want an extra pack of Vodka cruisers next week …no questions asked”
“Consider it done “and they were already across the cloister and on their way to the infirmary.
Oh the delight of silky skimpy pj’s on nubiles. Lustrous shiny freshly shaved legs. A sweet coiled waterfall braid of brunette hair on Erica. The ever classic ponytail and cute fringe on blonde, Bethany. Yes, then the cropped edgy fiery red hair of the sassy Chastity. Bernard got his hip flask out, filled with sickly rum and coke, not his taste, but the standard stripper of inhibitions formula for flighty capricious impulsive young women. They were making short work of the contents. Bernard was unconcerned as he produced a second metal flask with similar deliberate high alcohol content masked by saccharine.
They were giggly and heading quickly to loose. Their legs were wiggling and their toes flexing. Chastity would choose the moment. She always orchestrated it so disarmingly like it was an accident. There it was; her own nipple slip, then her full breast. Pert and softly rounded, demanding attention, Bernard always thought buttermilk and nipples of Venus, every time this happened.
A shocked ‘oh my’ from Erica; but her eyes were staring. Bethany was already caressing and tweaking what she had only recently felt in the dark. Chastity was guiding Erica’s hand onto her other now exposed breast. Bernard was relaxed as the ménage got underway. Chastity had Erica’s and Bethany’s tops open and was exploring two sets of breasts at once. Greedy girl thought Bernard as two young nubiles were working in tandem off her breasts as well, now with soft lips. There was a flurried blur of wet mushy nibbling of nipples which was followed by a deft regular flicking, as the sweet pink treasures that nipples are responded tenderly. As nipples flexed in rigid anticipation of each nimble lick from an adoring eager tongue, they glistened in youth’s full firmness.
Chastity was shockingly uninhibited mused Bernard. So caught up in their eager new discoveries were the two novices, they had forgotten the aged male presence in the room, exactly how Bernard liked it in the early stages of growing passion. The candid stage was his. He could watch and wait, as the tempo grew and it was pleasurable watching. He was currently enjoying three tongues probe and melt and mould into each other simultaneously. Here was the pagan power of Eros unbridled.
It was all delight appraising the quality sleek white buttocks of Chastity as she squirmed out of her silky drawers. Two separate hands from different girls were fingering her snatch, Bernard filling in the unseen sight with previous images of Chastity’s fleshy quim. Her labia were inimitable in their nautical association, a memory from his younger prevocational sailing days: her right lip shaped like a billowing full spinnaker, wide, oh so wide, the left flap, a sharp angular jib. Chastity could barely suppress murmurs of delight escaping her soft moist lips. The self-indulgent tramp was enjoying four hands now, plying randomly her fleshy sails and buttermilk melons. Her stalking hands were lowering the last skerricks of sham silky decency to Erica’s and Bethany’s ankles. Where they both carelessly kicked their pj’s bottoms away like parading in your birthday suit in the infirmary was as natural as Lady Godiva suddenly undertaking weekly rides through Coventry.
“Monsignor…your appraisal please “said Chastity as she lined the girls up for inspection.
Bernard was impressed with Chastity’s effort. He decided to double the Vodka for this impudent trollop.
Greeting his seasoned, experienced, hardened, and worldly eyes was an invigorating tonic to his jaded cynical mind; three heart shaped trimmed pubic mounds. Bethany, even cropped was a true blonde, irrefutable like papal infallibility. Erica's trimmed black pubes like a dark cocoa against soft white chocolate skin. Chastity like a bitch on heat, the strumpet with her fire-crotch, its usual but even more startling red, as today it was shaped as the third pubic heart, a valentine for the taking.
“Thank you girls …please turn… and bend over. “
Chastity took the lead and her obedient acolytes in the fellowship of St Bernard’s lustful secret order did likewise.
The deference to authoritative discipline installed by private religious education was alarming at times to Bernard. Somewhere in about twenty years time they would all send their daughters to this prestigious and highly respected institution, they would have fond memories of the college and so would their daughters. Bernard did a quick calculation of his own age and liked the future prospect.
He spread their legs easily and even got his hurdler to reveal her technique.
Chastity’s sweet treat was a given. Her sails viewed from below her arse crack were quivering naturally for any attention. Erica, a true athlete and a potential ballerina with this exquisite pose, had her left leg up like straddling a hurdle , gaping both her puss, which was spread liked the creased pleats of a skirt and her delicate anus ring radiating out like a dahlia in full bloom. While the angelic Bethany had fairy wing soft petalled labia in a glistening pinkish rose hue, layered in intricate folds like elaborate origami.
Bernard never ceased to wonder at the surprise provoked by the touch of another. Confession told Bernard they knew their pussy’s in intimate self loving detail. Yet they went into moaning rapturous apocalyptic revelations of self at the adroit tender craved touch of a man. The self-indulgence pleasure principal accepting both crass and polite manipulations, ravishingly responsive to the repeated desired touches as cascades of pleasure flowed and were constructed in their neighbouring orifices; that Bernard was stage-managing jointly.
Bernard thought if you sinned, make it worthwhile. The fingers of his left hand were working in a partnership pleasuring Bethany’s virgin arse and succulent damp pussy. The two fingers in her cunt definitely indicated she required a fat cock not a thin candle here. Monsignor’s right hand was generously finger fucking Erica, her meaty pleats saturated like a summer skirt in the rain. He understood the theology of the trinity well, three in one and knew how to do it. He bent his face and his tongue was splattering saliva like heaving splashing waves over Chastity’s labial sails. The red haired she devil‘s fingers joined the party, teasing her own clit.
Bernard knew from constant practice the wonders of multitasking. Erica had the athletes controlled breathing but it was rapidly entering a deep low sexual pant; ‘ah, ah… ah’. Chastity was a notch up in tone, repeating her selfish ‘mmm, mmm’ , but tonight it was in harmony because Bethany was a Capella , shit if she got any louder the sisters would investigate. It was surely the finger in her virginal chocolate freckle along with the generous two in her snatch that was creating perfect pussy purring pitch, the sweetest ‘oooh yes…oooh yes… oooh more’. Bernard reflected sadly but for only a moment, he may have missed his true calling as a choir conductor.
He realised it was time to send his pilgrim of lust , his firm staff of comfort into the valley of shadows between three sets of quivering anticipating leaking thighs.
“Chastity sit on Bethany’s face for a while …otherwise… it’s back to the dorm for both of you.”
Chastity was instantly face sitting and Bethany’s tongue was slurping and sucking and her fingers were alternating between rapid fucking and lingering stretching.
Bernard’s cock was prodding obscenely deep into Erica’s tight athletic twat. She had that fastened supple stretching to clenching with absolutely no cunt slack; she was sphincter tight in her muff hole. He would have to test drive the tighter hole next. Her wetness and his thickness were taking her down the track to orgasm faster than an Olympic medal run. It was clear she had orgasmed hard with a long; ‘Ah yes …. Ah yes…oh my god’. Two sweet tear trickled down her face, one from each eye and her own fem-cum oozed gently around the edges of her pussy, and then meandered in streaky wetness down her right thigh.
The urge to jab into and then poke a decent few thrusts into Erica’s single eye now dominated Bernard’s immediate desire, it was the only dry spot on her sweaty flushed post orgasmic lithe frame. Always prepared, his scouting days helped here as did deep pockets in his black cassock, he squirted a generous amount of lubricant onto his fingers and started to massage his way gently into the tightest of tight holes. It was truly tighter than the proverbial waterproof ducks arse. So virginally tight, but Erica’s mind was loosening to the experience fast, some cute ‘ahs’ escaping unevenly. It was time to shape her orifice with hard meat. Bernard engaged years of experience for this most memorable of buttholes. Tensely stretched and firmly wrapping, yet pliant, only just yielding, remaining tight like a rigorous athletes training schedule. Her puckered flesh drawn out snugly as his penis moved out and slightly away, then her flesh pushed in with his penis, to be greeted by the ‘ah’ of carnal delight. The close constriction of mutual skin dominating the seeming sealing of bodies, focused in one arse, one penis, but two minds. Erica’s pleasurable beyond pleasurable puckered starfish remained tighter than a photo finish at a world championship. Bernard felt a medal winner, ‘Christ this was good’, his only blasphemy for the evening flitting through his mind as he realised it was a dead heat of pleasure as Erica released a trinity of ‘ahs’.
Bernard had a duty of care to share the love, so grudgingly he released his penis from unadulterated heightened delight.
Still holding his boner well, impossible not to with instantly easy accessible pussy at cock level, Bernard had Bethany bending over the bench and tag teamed Erica’s pucker for some lick smacking teasing to Chastity. Bernard nearly came way too early as he viewed petal pink perfection, but the petalled folds of flesh in deep Persian pink deserved a spray of male pearl droplets. Bethany’s butt cheeks were the framing vase, complimenting her hourglass petite hips. Someone had to christen her coochie, luck was with Bernard. He set a slow rhythm like warm ups at choir practice. It was clear Bethany was enjoying this, starting with a few basic contralto grunts of pleasure, but hitting the high notes fast, as Bernard’s love muscle hit indecent depths. She was addicted to the ‘oooh ' but her keen enthusiasm for more delight started a series of ‘oooh fuck…faster…oooh fuck me… deeper’. Bethany was a quick learner. Bernard held her thin waist and was now filthy deep, pounding against her quivering buttocks hard with each massive thrust. She hit her highest orgasmic note; the one Bernard hoped to hear, singularly shrill, opera star perfect, a long held, ‘Oooh’, luckily; as the tower bell rang for ten o’clock.
Bernard really wanted to see his cum spread on Bethany’s glistening sticky pink petals. When a pleasure fixation fixates, well it’s got to be fixed. Bernard held his load to swelling capacity, then withdrew and cascades of dribbling jerky male juice sprayed in a deliberately confined area. Her pussy was the true pearly gates; heaven was open and glowing between a young woman’s legs. Then wafting like the heady dispensed incense from a crucible in a cathedral, the musky scent of Erica’s pleasure hole joined in, as Chastity brought Erica’s clit, to her second climax of the evening.
Erica, Bernard was absolutely certain, would medal at the Olympics in future years and the weightlifting team would leave the media in stupefied ignorance as to their surprise medal failure and lethargy, having been taken out in pairs or god forbid the developing thought; one goddamn Roman sized gang-bang initiated by Erica’s insatiable needs off the track.
“Chastity …tidy up as usual…now remember your prayers girls …and include me for weekly treats…good evening.”
As he closed the door in the wall brushing through the ivy, the crunch of autumn leaves indicated a very heavy frost.
Bernard only paused to light up.
A cigarette after sex he had always known cleared the conscience.
A cigarette before sex always calmed Monsignor Bernard’s mind.
It was a chill clear evening as he looked up, the moon waxing crescent. Frost was certain. The mush of late autumn leaves were rusty and soggy under his feet as he looked down. However, his regular glance was through the sparse trees to the secured wooden door in the ivy covered wall that opened onto the cloister of the diocese all girls boarding college for refined young ladies or as their parents hoped virginal incarceration . It was nearly nine as he glanced at his watch.
It was confession that had led to this evening. Not his own, Bernard had ceased to grapple with his own conscience unlike Jacob who wasted a whole night wrestling with an angel. Jacob had left unattended two horny wives and two equally unrequited servants for lesbian mischief. He always wanted to include that in a Sunday sermon. He couldn’t currently find a way to work it in even with a morality angle.
Confession by senior eighteen year old college girls: the highlight of Bernard’s week. They were young but definitely not so innocent. What they considered sin Bernard thought was life education. Still he played by the rules when it was required if they suited him. He listened intently, drawing out easily the libidinous and smutty details that often gave him a boner in the confessional.
The college chapel was nineteenth century tasteful Romanesque revival at the northern end of the cloister. It had been constructed by faith in a series of serene uncomplicated arches and plain windows that diffused an unearthly light for those who trusted the unseen to assuage their bodies. Bernard was a convert to human touch or a cigarette in the interim, either being infinitely more rewarding for alleviating self doubt. He never had any self doubt at the point of orgasm.
The actual confessional was crafted with a devotion Bernard now lacked. It was entirely constructed of striking ornate oak. The dividing grille was an elaborate lattice of mini crucifixes. Bernard remembered last week’s confessionals as he took a lingering drag on his unfiltered fag. He recalled clearly ‘his senior’ about to graduate, pristine angels when in choir harmony, with their pure virginal hearts. However, trying to contain slutty heated thoughts as they were seated silently in a row with legs crossed waiting to confess all.
Trapped in their demure excessively modest ankle length navy dresses, white blouses buttoned to the collar and tightly cuffed at their wrists. Sweet young bodies denied their natural flaunting tease of attraction by a rigorous century old rule book that imprisoned breasts and soft thighs in unflattering, unappealing and deliberately unattractive clothes.
Traditional old school blazers and white gloves added to the impersonal uniformity. However, their lively, sneaky, devilish eyes always gave them away; along with their whispered, privately revealed litany of salacious, perceived sins.
The three senior students he was now waiting for floated lazily through his mind like the smoke rings he was practising; whiling away inconsequential minutes, because the rest of the night was his.
He recalled, sweet seductive Erica, the sports captain, who tried vainly to channel her excessive energy into individual excellence or boisterous team pursuits. She had recently been crowned National under nineteen hurdles champion. Bernard was going to see how far Erica could really stretch those legs.
Erica began her confession with the sign of the cross, then garbled out; “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was two weeks ago. I missed last week’s because of the National championships"
“What have to confess ” said Bernard. Knowing she was nubile and ready.
“Monsignor…I have touched myself repeatedly…too many times …to recall the number…I was so excited after winning the title …I came twice with the shower jet..Plus I had impure thoughts concerning the whole under twenty-one National weightlifting team.”
There was that natural sincerity in her voice. She never made anything up. Reality was way ahead of online written erotica which Bernard was developing a penchant for.
“Three Hail Mary’s, purchase two candles…and in future…. recite your rosary… after…sorry before temptation.”
“Thank you Monsignor”
Next it was the seemingly demure, modest and meek faced but hormone raging Bethany, the angelic lead voice of the choir. A rare coloratura Soprano, destined for the International Opera scene. It was Bernard’s desire to find out what sexual note she would hit with an intense orgasm.
Bethany began her confession with the sign of the cross, and then whispered “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was last week”
“What have to confess,” said Bernard. She had recently turned eighteen. She had a woman’s needs.
“Monsignor…forgive me…I took one of my penance candles to self pleasure myself all through the week…I committed the graver sin of sharing a bed with Chastity Palmer who fingered my vagina and anus…oh forgive me”
Bernard wanted to dispense a vibrator but it was the usual Hail Mary’s and no candles this week.
Finally the inappropriately named Chastity Palmer was on the other side of the grille, the chaste in her name had disappeared a long time ago. She was however, the linguist of the college, in more than one way. She spoke several languages and was learning three more currently. Chastity was a true cunning linguist who shared her talented tongue around the dorm at night, creating damp patches of liquid delight as she whispered obscenities in tongues to get her victim into the zone. Chastity was beyond confession and her penance was preordained, every week it was organising a new assignation.
Chastity began with “Okay Bernie… my cigarettes and my flask of vodka first.”
“In the secret compartment by the alter as per usual…there is a vibrator as an extra treat" No pause, then:
“Okay…what have you planned for this week?”
“The infirmary as usual, be at the cloister door at nine."
Bernard stubbed his cigarette, grounding it under his heavy black boot. It was nine. Chastity was always punctual. The tower bell pealed for nine. Punctuality; was one of the rare useful life values that was instilled by a private religious education. This assignation was timed to coincide with the sister’s regular Thursday evening vigil for the less fortunate; Bernard was on his own mission to assist the sexually needy. A vocation in life is a true calling.
“Ah Chastity…are we organised” …it was always a slight let down if Chastity failed to lure the nominated prey. Still regularly fucking Chastity was preferable to abstinence.
“Yes… but I want an extra pack of Vodka cruisers next week …no questions asked”
“Consider it done “and they were already across the cloister and on their way to the infirmary.
Oh the delight of silky skimpy pj’s on nubiles. Lustrous shiny freshly shaved legs. A sweet coiled waterfall braid of brunette hair on Erica. The ever classic ponytail and cute fringe on blonde, Bethany. Yes, then the cropped edgy fiery red hair of the sassy Chastity. Bernard got his hip flask out, filled with sickly rum and coke, not his taste, but the standard stripper of inhibitions formula for flighty capricious impulsive young women. They were making short work of the contents. Bernard was unconcerned as he produced a second metal flask with similar deliberate high alcohol content masked by saccharine.
They were giggly and heading quickly to loose. Their legs were wiggling and their toes flexing. Chastity would choose the moment. She always orchestrated it so disarmingly like it was an accident. There it was; her own nipple slip, then her full breast. Pert and softly rounded, demanding attention, Bernard always thought buttermilk and nipples of Venus, every time this happened.
A shocked ‘oh my’ from Erica; but her eyes were staring. Bethany was already caressing and tweaking what she had only recently felt in the dark. Chastity was guiding Erica’s hand onto her other now exposed breast. Bernard was relaxed as the ménage got underway. Chastity had Erica’s and Bethany’s tops open and was exploring two sets of breasts at once. Greedy girl thought Bernard as two young nubiles were working in tandem off her breasts as well, now with soft lips. There was a flurried blur of wet mushy nibbling of nipples which was followed by a deft regular flicking, as the sweet pink treasures that nipples are responded tenderly. As nipples flexed in rigid anticipation of each nimble lick from an adoring eager tongue, they glistened in youth’s full firmness.
Chastity was shockingly uninhibited mused Bernard. So caught up in their eager new discoveries were the two novices, they had forgotten the aged male presence in the room, exactly how Bernard liked it in the early stages of growing passion. The candid stage was his. He could watch and wait, as the tempo grew and it was pleasurable watching. He was currently enjoying three tongues probe and melt and mould into each other simultaneously. Here was the pagan power of Eros unbridled.
It was all delight appraising the quality sleek white buttocks of Chastity as she squirmed out of her silky drawers. Two separate hands from different girls were fingering her snatch, Bernard filling in the unseen sight with previous images of Chastity’s fleshy quim. Her labia were inimitable in their nautical association, a memory from his younger prevocational sailing days: her right lip shaped like a billowing full spinnaker, wide, oh so wide, the left flap, a sharp angular jib. Chastity could barely suppress murmurs of delight escaping her soft moist lips. The self-indulgent tramp was enjoying four hands now, plying randomly her fleshy sails and buttermilk melons. Her stalking hands were lowering the last skerricks of sham silky decency to Erica’s and Bethany’s ankles. Where they both carelessly kicked their pj’s bottoms away like parading in your birthday suit in the infirmary was as natural as Lady Godiva suddenly undertaking weekly rides through Coventry.
“Monsignor…your appraisal please “said Chastity as she lined the girls up for inspection.
Bernard was impressed with Chastity’s effort. He decided to double the Vodka for this impudent trollop.
Greeting his seasoned, experienced, hardened, and worldly eyes was an invigorating tonic to his jaded cynical mind; three heart shaped trimmed pubic mounds. Bethany, even cropped was a true blonde, irrefutable like papal infallibility. Erica's trimmed black pubes like a dark cocoa against soft white chocolate skin. Chastity like a bitch on heat, the strumpet with her fire-crotch, its usual but even more startling red, as today it was shaped as the third pubic heart, a valentine for the taking.
“Thank you girls …please turn… and bend over. “
Chastity took the lead and her obedient acolytes in the fellowship of St Bernard’s lustful secret order did likewise.
The deference to authoritative discipline installed by private religious education was alarming at times to Bernard. Somewhere in about twenty years time they would all send their daughters to this prestigious and highly respected institution, they would have fond memories of the college and so would their daughters. Bernard did a quick calculation of his own age and liked the future prospect.
He spread their legs easily and even got his hurdler to reveal her technique.
Chastity’s sweet treat was a given. Her sails viewed from below her arse crack were quivering naturally for any attention. Erica, a true athlete and a potential ballerina with this exquisite pose, had her left leg up like straddling a hurdle , gaping both her puss, which was spread liked the creased pleats of a skirt and her delicate anus ring radiating out like a dahlia in full bloom. While the angelic Bethany had fairy wing soft petalled labia in a glistening pinkish rose hue, layered in intricate folds like elaborate origami.
Bernard never ceased to wonder at the surprise provoked by the touch of another. Confession told Bernard they knew their pussy’s in intimate self loving detail. Yet they went into moaning rapturous apocalyptic revelations of self at the adroit tender craved touch of a man. The self-indulgence pleasure principal accepting both crass and polite manipulations, ravishingly responsive to the repeated desired touches as cascades of pleasure flowed and were constructed in their neighbouring orifices; that Bernard was stage-managing jointly.
Bernard thought if you sinned, make it worthwhile. The fingers of his left hand were working in a partnership pleasuring Bethany’s virgin arse and succulent damp pussy. The two fingers in her cunt definitely indicated she required a fat cock not a thin candle here. Monsignor’s right hand was generously finger fucking Erica, her meaty pleats saturated like a summer skirt in the rain. He understood the theology of the trinity well, three in one and knew how to do it. He bent his face and his tongue was splattering saliva like heaving splashing waves over Chastity’s labial sails. The red haired she devil‘s fingers joined the party, teasing her own clit.
Bernard knew from constant practice the wonders of multitasking. Erica had the athletes controlled breathing but it was rapidly entering a deep low sexual pant; ‘ah, ah… ah’. Chastity was a notch up in tone, repeating her selfish ‘mmm, mmm’ , but tonight it was in harmony because Bethany was a Capella , shit if she got any louder the sisters would investigate. It was surely the finger in her virginal chocolate freckle along with the generous two in her snatch that was creating perfect pussy purring pitch, the sweetest ‘oooh yes…oooh yes… oooh more’. Bernard reflected sadly but for only a moment, he may have missed his true calling as a choir conductor.
He realised it was time to send his pilgrim of lust , his firm staff of comfort into the valley of shadows between three sets of quivering anticipating leaking thighs.
“Chastity sit on Bethany’s face for a while …otherwise… it’s back to the dorm for both of you.”
Chastity was instantly face sitting and Bethany’s tongue was slurping and sucking and her fingers were alternating between rapid fucking and lingering stretching.
Bernard’s cock was prodding obscenely deep into Erica’s tight athletic twat. She had that fastened supple stretching to clenching with absolutely no cunt slack; she was sphincter tight in her muff hole. He would have to test drive the tighter hole next. Her wetness and his thickness were taking her down the track to orgasm faster than an Olympic medal run. It was clear she had orgasmed hard with a long; ‘Ah yes …. Ah yes…oh my god’. Two sweet tear trickled down her face, one from each eye and her own fem-cum oozed gently around the edges of her pussy, and then meandered in streaky wetness down her right thigh.
The urge to jab into and then poke a decent few thrusts into Erica’s single eye now dominated Bernard’s immediate desire, it was the only dry spot on her sweaty flushed post orgasmic lithe frame. Always prepared, his scouting days helped here as did deep pockets in his black cassock, he squirted a generous amount of lubricant onto his fingers and started to massage his way gently into the tightest of tight holes. It was truly tighter than the proverbial waterproof ducks arse. So virginally tight, but Erica’s mind was loosening to the experience fast, some cute ‘ahs’ escaping unevenly. It was time to shape her orifice with hard meat. Bernard engaged years of experience for this most memorable of buttholes. Tensely stretched and firmly wrapping, yet pliant, only just yielding, remaining tight like a rigorous athletes training schedule. Her puckered flesh drawn out snugly as his penis moved out and slightly away, then her flesh pushed in with his penis, to be greeted by the ‘ah’ of carnal delight. The close constriction of mutual skin dominating the seeming sealing of bodies, focused in one arse, one penis, but two minds. Erica’s pleasurable beyond pleasurable puckered starfish remained tighter than a photo finish at a world championship. Bernard felt a medal winner, ‘Christ this was good’, his only blasphemy for the evening flitting through his mind as he realised it was a dead heat of pleasure as Erica released a trinity of ‘ahs’.
Bernard had a duty of care to share the love, so grudgingly he released his penis from unadulterated heightened delight.
Still holding his boner well, impossible not to with instantly easy accessible pussy at cock level, Bernard had Bethany bending over the bench and tag teamed Erica’s pucker for some lick smacking teasing to Chastity. Bernard nearly came way too early as he viewed petal pink perfection, but the petalled folds of flesh in deep Persian pink deserved a spray of male pearl droplets. Bethany’s butt cheeks were the framing vase, complimenting her hourglass petite hips. Someone had to christen her coochie, luck was with Bernard. He set a slow rhythm like warm ups at choir practice. It was clear Bethany was enjoying this, starting with a few basic contralto grunts of pleasure, but hitting the high notes fast, as Bernard’s love muscle hit indecent depths. She was addicted to the ‘oooh ' but her keen enthusiasm for more delight started a series of ‘oooh fuck…faster…oooh fuck me… deeper’. Bethany was a quick learner. Bernard held her thin waist and was now filthy deep, pounding against her quivering buttocks hard with each massive thrust. She hit her highest orgasmic note; the one Bernard hoped to hear, singularly shrill, opera star perfect, a long held, ‘Oooh’, luckily; as the tower bell rang for ten o’clock.
Bernard really wanted to see his cum spread on Bethany’s glistening sticky pink petals. When a pleasure fixation fixates, well it’s got to be fixed. Bernard held his load to swelling capacity, then withdrew and cascades of dribbling jerky male juice sprayed in a deliberately confined area. Her pussy was the true pearly gates; heaven was open and glowing between a young woman’s legs. Then wafting like the heady dispensed incense from a crucible in a cathedral, the musky scent of Erica’s pleasure hole joined in, as Chastity brought Erica’s clit, to her second climax of the evening.
Erica, Bernard was absolutely certain, would medal at the Olympics in future years and the weightlifting team would leave the media in stupefied ignorance as to their surprise medal failure and lethargy, having been taken out in pairs or god forbid the developing thought; one goddamn Roman sized gang-bang initiated by Erica’s insatiable needs off the track.
“Chastity …tidy up as usual…now remember your prayers girls …and include me for weekly treats…good evening.”
As he closed the door in the wall brushing through the ivy, the crunch of autumn leaves indicated a very heavy frost.
Bernard only paused to light up.
A cigarette after sex he had always known cleared the conscience.
Ofelia
- 08.02.2023
- 20
- 0
Where the Mountain RisesChapter 27 Happy Trio
- 1 year ago
- 16
- 0
Disciplined College Trio
- 2 years ago
- 32
- 0
