A Different Kind of Love Story

"Let me have it all," I whisper in his ear as I feel his fingers slipping out of me.

*

"Kathrine, aren't those jeans just a little too tight on you," Mildred Cooper asks me as I'm beginning to regret wearing them tonight in front of her and the rest of the ladies who I know are thinking exactly what she is now.

But I love this feeling of turning back the clock so I can be with Tristan, and every time he looks at me I can just tell what's going through his head as my heart begins to race just like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Of course the few times his friends have come over since we've been making love I could see the shock on their faces because of how I look now, and later that night I'd tease him mercilessly when he was riding me about all the nasty things that they wanted to do to me that I saw in their eyes. The truth is every teenage boy is like a machine that just has one thing it's programmed specifically to do, and getting between as many legs both young and old is all most of them really care about. Naturally he is just so far removed from thinking that way anymore, and maybe it's just a mothers pride but he's just so unlike anyone that I've ever met. Sometimes I think I'm being just too harsh with the way I've been comparing him to his father lately, but the cold hard truth is he's loves me in ways Jack could never even comprehend let alone equal.

As if to prove my own point I'm still reeling from the way we made love last night, and the fact I haven't suffered any ill effects from having two of his fingers stuffed inside my ass is such a relief too. There's still a part of me though that can't believe how having both my vagina and anus being stretched at the same time contributed to an orgasm that was just out of this world, and yet I know this may very well become something so enjoyable that not exploring it any further seems unthinkable to me now. We've just come so far in such a short amount of time that there are times I wonder if it might be good for us to take a break from the carnal side of our relationship, and yet I know when we lie down in my bed every night the thought of not feeling his naked body wrapped around mine is something that I know neither one of us could tolerate for even the briefest amount of time.

"They're called diamond jeans Mrs. Cooper," I hear Tristan whisper to me as he's helping me put one of the large folding tables in place.

"Stop," I whisper back to him as I can already feel all the eyes of everyone in the room focused on my butt.

"Relax Millie; you're just jealous because you're rump is the size of a Studebaker," I hear her sister Ethel's voice as an immediate uproar of laughter begins to fill the room because of what she just said.

If ever two sisters were opposites these two certainly are, and as much as I love Millie there are times when she can just be so abrupt almost to the point of being rude. I don't think she really means to be so abrasive but being around her for any length of time certainly requires a person with very thick skin. Ethel on the other hand is what I would call the epitome of grace and elegance, and even though she has to be in her late sixties or early-seventies she still manages to carry herself in a way I can only hope to be like when I finally reach her age.

"I hope you realize my dear that there are young women half your age in this congregation who are green with envy of your girlish figure," Ethel says so softly to me as she puts her hand on mine as if making her point all the more.

"Looking fit Kathrine," I suddenly hear Father Maroni say as he's walking bye me carrying a few chairs towards the back of the room.

If there was ever a man who should think about leaving the priesthood it definitely has to be him, and even though I've been a devout Catholic all my life I just find it almost cruel the way he's supposed to resist urges that so many of the corrupt members of the Vatican probably violate daily. The truth though is there have been rumors circulating for the last few years that he's had more to eat than just what was being served to him on the dining room tables by some of the divorced members of our congregation, and in many ways I think because times have changed so much he's been given a free pass by many of the older women who at a different time might have tried to have him defrocked for what he's supposed to have done with those divorcees. After all, if the Bishops and Cardinals can protect serial pedophiles then why can't we cast a blind eye to a man who helps so many and asks so little in return.

"Translation, you have a smoking hot ass Kathrine," Tristan whispers to me as I try and hold back from laughing because he's well aware of Father Maroni's wandering eye when it comes to me.

"Would you stop," I whisper as my eyes follow the cleric and imagine just how it would feel if I ever exposed myself to him.

The reality is that I've known for years that he's been interested in me more as a man than as a spiritual adviser, and it only took a couple of years after Jack died for me to sense just how attracted he was to me. At first I thought it was just my imagination getting the better of me but each time I received communion it was the way his finger seemed to linger inside my mouth that I knew what was going thru his head, and the mere fact he was so bold right in front of everyone excited me in a way that always made my panties moisten. The thing is it's not like I've given him permission to keep perusing me, although my silence may very well have been taken as I'm just playing hard to get.

But right now I have enough to deal with without daydreaming about having an affair with a horny priest, and the way I have to force myself each day to swallow another pill so I won't get pregnant is only telling me that the only man I want in my life is standing in front of me now. He's pulled feelings and emotions out of me that I didn't even know existed, and to think that in only such a short amount of time we've both managed to come so far together seems almost mind boggling.

"Better be careful my dear or you'll end up becoming another nymph in his little harem," Ethel whispers to me so politely breaking me from the delicious daydream I was just having.

"What," I respond so surprised that she would even be aware of such juicy gossip.

"Let's just say that there a select group of ladies that receive a lot more than just the body of Christ in their mouths from him after Sunday's Mass," she replies so softly that I barely heard her.

"You're kidding," I say as I know my eyes are showing her just how stunned I am by what she's revealing to me.

"Surely you've felt his eyes undressing you from time to time," she whispers to me as I can't believe a woman who is thought to be so refined and dignified would be planting such an intimate thought in my head.

"I'm not sure," is all I reply as a part of me wonders if she's just setting me up to say something inappropriate.

"Five years without feeling the caress of a man's lips on your flower must be so frustrating for you," she whispers as I'm not sure if I should be angry or appreciative of what she just said to me.

"Just a little," I reply as the thought of getting naked with Tristan later tonight makes that ache deep inside me even more intense now.

"I can assure you my dear that any rendezvous with him would be most discrete," she whispers as she's suddenly making me feel uncomfortable with the way she seems to be soliciting me right out in the open as everyone else in the room is totally oblivious to what we're talking about.

"Are you trying to recruit me into his little harem," I ask as I feel my thighs beginning to quiver?

"Father Maroni has been a blessing to this parish in so many ways, and bending a few rules in order to keep his spirit from faltering is the least we can do for him," she replies in a tone that sounds almost maternal like in nature.

"And I take it I'm one of the rules that can be bent," I say as I'm not sure if I should be angry or honored by what she seems to be offering me.

"The truth is he finds you're innocence most beguiling," she says with such a smile on her face that I'm sure she's had this conversation with only a select few of the other divorced and widowed members of our parish.

"But he's not after my innocence, is he," I ask her as I can see Tristan watching us and wondering what we're talking about.

"We both know that what he needs lies between those long legs of yours," she says as she smiles so politely and begins to walk away as I'm trying my best to comprehend just what happened between us.

"What was that all about," Tristan asks me as I'm not even sure I heard her say everything that my ears relayed back to that part of my brain that is still trying to figure out what just happened between us?

"I'm not sure," I reply as I start to go down the list of likely candidates who could be giving Father Maroni a taste of the forbidden fruit.

*

"Do you think she was just fooling around with you," Tristan asks as my nails ever so gently glide up and down his stomach.

I just love the way the two of us can lie naked in my bed and talk for what seems like hours the way best friends are supposed to be able to do together, and with his gorgeous organ remaining totally flaccid as we speak I'm aware just how much he's taking in every thought that I'm expressing to him now. There's no way his father could have kept himself from getting an erection if we were in bed like this, and to have a partner who both adores and listens to me just pulls me even closer to him with each passing day. Is he my soulmate I've heard the whisperings of the voices in my head asking me over and over again when he's buried deep inside me, and even now I can hear them asking that same question as we're so soothingly resting in each other's arms.

"I don't think so," I reply as I dissect the brief conversation I had with Ethel again as thoughts of what it would actually be like to have an affair with a priest begin to filter through my head.

Of course secrecy would be the key if it was going to succeed, and in many ways just like how Tristan and I are now forcing ourselves to appear normal when we're out in public together there would have to be almost an aloofness towards his lover when they are in close proximity of one another. For me it was just so tortuous to keep my hands off of Tristan after we first started making love, but we both knew that the sight of us holding hand as we strolled through a park together could be our undoing. But we've adapted very nicely since then, and now routinely driving an hour away so we won't bump into anyone we know allows us to feel more like a couple romantically involved as we walk with our hands locked together.

"So she's like a pimp in a way," he asks as those words just seem a little too harsh considering who it is we're talking about.

"I'm not exactly sure what she is," I say as it's still hard to believe that she really approached me so boldly tonight the way she did.

But she must sense something about me that would give her so much confidence to talk to me about something so intimate, and as much as I still think it's a bunch of baloney I'm starting to wonder if that gap between my thighs has anything to do with all of this. I know the pictures Tristan took of me in Lowe's clearly does show a diamond shape wedge between my legs, but for me to accept that it could have been formed by an excessive amount of intercourse still seems like a stretch for me to actually buy into such a notion.

"I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to be completely honest with me," I say as I can't believe what I'm about to ask him?

"Ask away," is all he says.

"Is there really any truth to what you've told me about that gap between my thighs," I ask as my eyes look into his in such a way that he knows I need to hear a serious response coming from him?

"When Robby and Mikey stopped by last week they did all they could not to keep staring at your ass, and Robby asked me at least a half dozen times if you have a boyfriend," he replies as I'm still struggling to accept that both men and boys are aware of something that I've always thought was just plain nonsense.

"So both of them think that I'm fucking like a rabbit because I have that gap down there," I ask almost in a hush?

"But you're my rabbit, and that's all that counts," he replies as I almost feel like a detective with all the thoughts that are going through my head now.

"Then I bet Ethel and Father Maroni noticed the gap too," I say as it all just seems to be coming together now.

"But why would she approach you if she knew you're already seeing someone," he asks as I'm so proud of myself for connecting all the dots in such a short amount of time.

"Because for the last year or so I've been telling Father Maroni in confession about all the times I rub myself, and I'd bet money that they think I'm stuffing myself with an oversized sex toy now," I reply as the logic just seems too good not to be true.

"And if you really did have a boyfriend you would have mentioned it to him in confession by now," he says as I can't believe how he's so quickly grasping what I think is the probable explanation for Ethel's bold advances towards me.

"It does make sense, and whether I'm being stretched by a real guy or huge vibrator I'm still going to get the gap regardless," I say as I'm suddenly aware just how excited I've gotten because of what we're talking about.

"Too bad you can't tell him who it is that's really stretching you every night," he says as I watch as his organ begins to become rigid right in front of my eyes.

There's just no denying that as magical as the connection is between us on an emotional, intellectual and physical level there also exists a bond I have now with the nearly eight and a half inch organ that is already reaching its full length. The reality though is that even if his organ was half the size of the beast I'm looking at I'd still be just as deeply in love with Tristan, and yet I've now become hopelessly addicted to the way my insides swell and adjust to his length and thickness whenever he slides inside me. There's just no comparing him to any of the lovers from my past, and the way he's been pumping me lately until I have to plead with him to cum just seems like something out of an erotic movie. In so many ways it's as though his penis acts as an umbilical cord with the way we both seem so attuned to each other's needs without having to voice a single word aloud, and I think he already knows that he'll never find another like me who will connect with him the way I do.

"Last Saturday in confession I mentioned how I love to walk around the house in a short little yellow t-shirt knowing what it does to you," I whisper as I wrap my hand around him and begin to gently slide up and down his entire length with those images in my head of what must have been going through Father Maroni's head when I confessed that naughty fantasy to him.

I know we're still in the honeymoon period but this connection we have together just keeps finding ever newer ways to heighten our arousal for each other, and now using what's being said in sanctity of a confessional to push us so far past where any others have ever been just seems like the appropriate thing for us to do now. As a priest I'm sure Father Maroni has heard hundreds of juicy stories as he's had to sit there with his pants no doubt bulging, and I could always tell by his breathing as I confessed to fingering myself just how much he was getting off to what I was telling him. Supposedly he can't make out who we are but I'm sure he's well aware who it is that is sitting behind that flimsy screen pouring out their sins, and of course recognizing our voices is the key to identifying who we are too.

"That's kind of funny because I've been telling for the last year how every morning I lie in bed with an erection waiting for you to come in and wake me with the sheet barely covering me," he moans as I can already sense just how excited he is by what we're revealing to each other.

"He knows you want Mommy to see that big dick of yours," I moan as his hand reaches around me and I feel his fingers sliding inside as my hand continues to glide up and down him.

"And he knows Mommy likes showing me her long legs," he says as his fingers are already in sync with my hand as he's fucking me just as hard as he would if his gorgeous creature was inside me.

"He asked me if I wanted to expose myself to you," I say in a voice totally strained to the point where I'm not even sure if the words even came out of my mouth.

"He's asked me dozens of times if I ever ejaculated in front of you," he says in a gasp as I begin to feel his hot semen pelting me as I furiously pump him as shot after shot explodes out of his organ.

"You like teasing him just as much as I do," I whisper as my eyes just stay locked on the stream of thick white semen that just keeps flying out of him?

"Even more," he says so softly as my hand gently works the last of his orgasm out of him.

"Maybe they've connected the dots too," I whisper as another possible explanation for why Ethel was so bold begins to work its way through my consciousness as my hand so business like keeps milking him of all his cream.

"But they can't prove anything," I hear a voice echoing in my ears as I'm not sure if it came from within me or if Tristan whispered it to me as his fingers now begin to caress my tiny bud.

"No they can't," I moan as my own orgasm slowly starts to make its way towards me as I smear all the semen that came out of him with my fingers as he locks his mouth onto mine.

*

"Is that really me," I say in a voice so thoroughly shocked because of how my eyes are trying to convey to my brain that the slender creature on the television screen actually belongs to me.

"How many times have I told you this is how you look," Tristan says as its slowly starting to sink into that part of my intellect where my perceptions about myself are located is finally being confronted with the evidence that just can't be denied any longer.

It's just every woman's fear that the image reflecting back to her from the bedroom mirror every morning is just another reminder that each day that passes is proof that her desirability is diminishing in front of her very eyes, and as much as he has told me over and over again how I'm built just like one of the models in the videos in his computer I desperately wanted to believe him, but the truth is I never did. But now as I watch the camera follow me from room to room dressed only in a yellow t-shirt that barely reaches my thighs it's as though I'm finally beginning to accept what he's been telling me about myself all along is actually true. The funny thing is that for someone who can be so shy I'm certainly exhibiting a level of comfort in front of the lens that kind of surprises me, but the fact the one holding the camera is totally naked with that enormous creature beckoning to me to take it inside me certainly explains why I appear to be so at ease.

"Too bad we can't let Father Maroni have a copy of this," I say as I can only watch in awe and imagine him with his hand sliding up and down his dick because he thinks this is how I've been teasing Tristan for the last few weeks.

"Let's face it Kate, what you did to me when you'd wear those blue leotards around the house is just as hot as this," he says as I watch myself reaching up in the cupboards as my still girlish like bottom is totally exposed for the camera.

"I didn't think you noticed," I reply as I still find it incredible that at forty-one I still have the same legs and tight little ass that I did as a teenager.