Anonymous - The Oyster Volume VI

'Come on, old boy, now you can spill the beans about your excommunication from St Peter's Church,' I chortled. Teddy frowned and said heavily: 'Andrew, I was not excommunicated from the Church and I resigned from the bloody choir. I wasn't even fourteen years old at the time and was very much the innocent party who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time-or right time, according to how one views the incident which led to my departure.

'It all began after a rumour began around the village that the new curate, a Mr. Longford, had been seen shagging the village postmistress on top of a haystack in one of Farmer Gower's fields. “It's probably just idle gossip, Albert,” I heard one of the male choristers remark after our Thursday night practice, but Albert replied: “Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that, Fred. You know what they say, there's no smoke without fire.”

'I was dying to know whether or not the story was true and I agreed to take part in a lookout rota organized by George Pearce, the oldest choirboy, to spy on the haystack because like the others, I would have given anything to watch the couple having a fuck. Only a few days before, George had brought the copy of the Reverend Jeffrey Burton's A Young Person's Guide to Human Procreation which he had been given by his father for his fourteenth birthday to show us.'

'My Uncle Humphrey gave me a copy of that book when I was at school,' I said reflectively. 'We all called it Fucking For Fun as it didn't have all those stupid warnings about wanking.'

Teddy nodded his head and continued: 'Yes, I sent a copy to my nephew only last week. Anyhow, I didn't have to spend any time in Farmer Gower's field because that very night Canon Ball asked me to finish setting up the seats in the Church Hall which was going to be used for a performance of Mr. Hutchinson's farce Lord Bresslaw and the Missing Postal Order by the village Amateur Dramatic Society. “It should only take you about twenty minutes at most, but I'd be most grateful as they are having a rehearsal there later tonight and it would be useful practice for the actors to pretend there is an audience watching them,” he said. As I had nothing special to do, I agreed to help him.

'However, the Canon was called away on some errand and I was left alone in the hall where the stage had been erected and the spotlights set up. It didn't take long for me to arrange the remaining seats and I was about the leave when suddenly the door opened. Who should walk in but Mr. Longford and Miss Blake, the village postmistress, an attractive full-figured lady of about thirty years of age.

'I ducked behind the back row of seats and saw Miss Blake extinguish all the gas lights except for one which lit up the front of the stage. “Ruth, I can't help worrying that we might be discovered?” asked the curate. But she shook her head and answered: “No, no, Cecil, we'll be quite safe from any prying eyes here and it will be much more comfortable than the haystack.”

'My eyes were out on stalks and my cock stood up as stiff as a little poker as the couple fell into a fierce amatory clinch, tumbling back onto the chaise longue which had been placed at the front of the stage.

The curate's hands roved around the postmistress's curvy body, dexterously unbuttoning and unhooking so that she was able to wriggle out of her clothes. I was quite transfixed as I watched him yank down her knickers. When Miss Blake was stark naked, the Reverend Cecil Longford stood up and feverishly started to tear off his own clothes. I immediately noticed the matted bush of hair at the base of his belly from which rose a massive prick that stood majestically up against his tummy, the tip level with his navel.

'Miss Blake smacked her lips as she snaked her fingers around this gigantic shaft and lustily fisted it up and down in her hand. Surely the curate's enormous cock could never fit inside her cunt, I thought to myself as, to my surprise, she now slid down on her knees to lick his knob, swirling her tongue over the wide uncapped helmet to his obvious delight.

'My own little cock was now bursting for relief. Ripping open my flies, I moved forward towards the stage, pulling my throbbing tool out of my trousers and starting to rub it as Miss Blake scrambled up and laid herself face down on the chaise longue so that her generous bottom was sticking high up in the air.

'This puzzled me somewhat because, at this early stage, I Was totally ignorant about fucking doggie style. But I was soon to be enlightened as, without further ado, Reverend Longford climbed onto the long low chair behind the postmistress. Parting her creamy soft bum cheeks, he thrust his rampant chopper deep into her cunney from behind. I could see his balls jiggling against her beautifully rounded thighs.

'Not only was this sight tremendously exciting to watch but it also made clear to me that any worries about how Miss Blake would be able to accommodate the curate's thick cock were totally unfounded. Of course, her slippery quim naturally stretched itself to welcome his surging shaft and the aroused lady threw back her head to let out yowls of delight as he slicked his rod in and out of her juicy love funnel.

'I was so enraptured by this erotic scene that, still furiously frigging myself, I moved even closer. Then waves of ecstatic pleasure engulfed me as a jet of frothy spunk shout out of my cock and arced through the air to splash on Reverend Longford's heaving bottom. Luckily both he and Miss Blake were oblivious to my presence for they were both jerking and panting away as they gloried in the joys of a mutual spend so I was able to scramble back undetected to my previous hiding place.'

I nodded sagely then enquired: 'But if the couple never saw you, why did this lead to your expulsion-oh, awfully sorry, old boy, resignation — from the choir?'

'Ah, well, whilst nowadays it would be easy to keep what I had seen to myself, at that early age I found it impossible to resist spreading the news among all the other boys in the choir. In time, of course, Canon Ball heard about how I had been telling anyone who would listen how his curate had been fucking Miss Blake in the Church Hall.

'Now, unlike many of his fellow clerics, the Canon was not one to thunder in the pulpit against worldly pleasures. As he said to me sternly, there were many worse sins than fornicating, especially as neither Miss Blake nor Reverend Longford were married. Whilst he could not condone their behaviour, it was reprehensible of me to blacken their characters by telling tales out of school. I felt truly remorseful when the Cannon added: “Think on the text I talked about in my sermon last week, Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”

'I hung my head in shame and, to cut short the story, I was so ashamed about what I had done that I resigned from the choir the next day. Much to my mother's chagrin, I also refused point-blank to accompany her to church for at least a month afterwards,' he concluded while the train slowed down as we approached our destination.

'What happened to the curate and the postmistress?' I asked and Teddy gave a weak smile. 'Oh, about a year later they married and the last I heard of Reverend Longford was of his appointment as the Dean of St Albans.'

'Well, at least your conscience is clear, for the scandal did nothing to hinder his career,' I remarked as I stood up and pulled down my travelling bag from the overhead shelf. With a great hiss of steam, we glided slowly into Woodstock station.

As promised, Katie Judson was waiting for us on the platform. What a truly delightful girl she was, with her round, heart-shaped face which boasted large, wistful blue eyes, a demure little Grecian nose and a soft, tremulous mouth. Katie was wearing her shiny light brown hair in a prim oval-shaped bun at the back of her head with a tiny fringe of curls at the top of her smooth forehead. She looked quite adorable as she walked towards us with a sparkling smile on her face.