After the Carnival

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Fr. Ed gets a charitable contribution from my wife.
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We had just left a volunteers meeting at the church. Our Summer Carnivale - the biggest fundraiser of the year - began the following Friday and Father Ed was rallying the volunteers and handing out assignments. For the third straight year, Dina and I would be assigned to the evening shifts at the dunk tank. It was no surprise. Dina has a great figure and a feisty personality when she is on the platform in the dunk tank. Men find the combination irresistible and will keep dropping dollars until they have soaked her and shut her up. With Dina on duty, the dunk tank out earned all the other midway games. Father Ed had noticed.

Father Ed was making his way around the room, reading assignments off his clip board. This was his way of personally connecting with every volunteer. People didn't really volunteer as much as they received assignments and instructions from Father Ed. If left to their own choices, everyone would volunteer for the food and beer tents and no one would be around for clean-up. Father Ed had perfected the art of getting people to agree to a job they would rather not do. He had a gentle persistence that made it very difficult to say no to him. Dina and I were safe, only because she was such a money maker at the dunk tank.

Father Ed was a fine priest who only saw the goodness in people. He was owed more favors that he could ever collect and was happy to call them in for the benefit of someone else. He was in his mid 50s, graying at the temples and a little thick around the middle from too many well meaning widows whose pies, cakes and cookies were never refused at the rectory. The declining number of priests in our area left him perpetually tired.

He lived alone except for Brother Samuel, a missionary priest from Nigeria who served the nearby prison as chaplain. He was the de facto chaplain for all police and firemen in town too. Along with the prisoners, they were his congregation. A private man who didn't have much involvement with the St. Norbert's community, you wouldn't even know Brother Samuel lived at the rectory except for his paintings hanging on the walls. I had always admired his artwork. Imperfect geometric designs, oval and diamond patterns his brush strokes wrinkled into just a hint of past perfection, mostly in soft pastel shades. It was not like any other African art I had seen. I often wondered where his inspiration came from.

Father Ed approached Dina and I with his assignment clipboard. It would be more accurate to say that he approached Dina. He smiled and put his arm around her shoulders, standing to her side and holding the clipboard out in front of her chest. It was Summer, so Dina was wearing a baby blue scoop necked t-shirt which was modest under any normal conditions. Squeezing Dina's shoulders while they bent over the clipboard made the soft collar pucker and pop open right between her lovely 34-C breasts. Fr. Ed and I could both see Dina's tan line and the paler breasts below it down to her bra. Tiny drops of her sweet essence spanned the valley between her enticing mounds.

"Let's see if we can find your name on here. Hmmmm..." he prolonged the "hmmm" while he searched the list until it sounded to me like start of the Campbell's soup commercial.

"Here it is ... Friday and Saturday night in the dunk tank" Dina volunteered, smiling and putting an end to Father Ed's search.

"Of course. You two are such a blessing. Thank you." he smiled again as he moved on to the next volunteer and we made our way out the door.

"Did you notice that?" I asked as we got into the car.

"You mean Fr. Ed's review of my cleavage? Yeah. I noticed it." Dina chuckled.

"It's not funny. He's a holy man. He shouldn't be ogling you."

"For chrissake Don, he's a man first. Give the poor guy a break. He's celibate. He's probably never even seen a woman's breasts. Frankly I feel sorry for him. I hope he got a good look." Then she added, "next time I'm going to see to it that he has a better view." I loved Dina's impulsive side. It was one of the things that most attracted me to her when we started dating. But she had to see what a bad idea it would be.

"How is that going to work exactly?" I asked. "You can't just walk up and flash him. Even if you did, it would just get him in trouble with the bishop. You know how easily people in this parish get offended." It was true. Dina and I have been Catholic since birth, but we're not particularly devoted to the rules. We belong to St. Norbert's mostly for the social activities and the music at mass. We've made some like minded friends, but most of the parishioners are more of the score keeping (and score settling) type. Fr. Ed would never survive as pastor if she flashed him and Dina knew it as well as I did. All the way home we talked about how difficult Fr. Ed's life must be. The lack of any element of romance or passion. The long hours. The strict discipline of the bishop. Dealing with people at their worst. The loneliness. It was no wonder that the priesthood was on a steady decline.

Friday night we were ready for our turn at the dunk tank. Dina would sit on the perch drawing in the business and I would be off to her side collecting the balls and resetting the platform after each hit on the target. Dina planned a dramatic entrance to build an early crowd. She used the adjacent rectory as a wardrobe room and came out the back gate wearing a skimpy black satin bathrobe from her last spa day. I set the ladder next to the tank and helped her up to the platform. She smiled. "Gentlemen ... come and get me ... if you think you're up to it." A crowd began to gather. "Look I'm totally dry." With that, she pulled the robe apart showing off her pink bikini and doing a 360 turn on the platform. It was modest as far as bikinis go, but neon pink.

It showed off Dina's figure well. Even at 33, Dina looked like a coed with softly curled blond hair down to her shoulders, a deep tan and a respectably flat tummy. She has a classic hourglass figure which had filled out nicely since our college days. Her bikini top squeezed her boobs together making them swell over her top and quiver in the evening air. Her thighs, toned and muscular, framed her sex. Her ass was ample and round in every direction, showing a little butt cheek peeking out from under her bikini bottoms. She paced the platform accenting the wiggle in her walk before settling in. Still Dina's act was harmless fun. The men stood ten feet away at the toss line and never got closer. I handled everything between the line and the tank. It was a perfect system. Dina showed off. The men got a good look and the church made money.

"Don! I figured it out." I was picking her up in front of the rectory at the end of our shift. Dina had used the rectory bathroom to change into dry clothes while I pulled the car around. She had a wide, open-mouthed smile and a look of excitement in her eyes.

"What have you figured out?" I asked.

She couldn't shake the smile as I drove us home. I had a feeling I was not going to like the answer. "It's Operation Secret Flash" I could hear the breathlessness in her voice. "I know how to give Father Ed a better view of my boobs. I can do it in the rectory after the dunk tank tomorrow. Fr. Ed has to let me in to change and has to wait for me to finish before he can return to the Carnivale. Tonight, we were the only ones there the entire time I dried off and changed clothes. I was talking to him though the bathroom door while I changed. All of a sudden I realized I was holding my top in my hands with my boobs facing the door while he was on the other side. Any excuse to get him into the bathroom would let me give him a little show with nobody ever knowing."

"I would know." The fact that her plan actually made sense suddenly was making me uncomfortable. Now it was quite clear that another man might be getting the full view of Dina's boobs. The men at the dunk tank could only imagine what was under Dina's bikini, I could see it on their faces. The curiosity, the lust. It even turned me on a little. But this was different.

"Don, please. What are you worried about? I'm not running off with him. It's just a flash. We've done it before. Remember the French Quarter? More than one man got a good look as I recall."

She argued well. In fact it was my idea for her to flash her tits that night. It was mid-August and Dina was wearing just a billowy cotton halter dress tied behind her neck. I walked her up and down Bourbon Street pouring cocktails into her and massaging her back as I pleaded my case. I kept bumping into her to jiggle her breasts and rub her nipples against the cool cotton. While rubbing her back in sweeping circles, I would occasionally slip my hand under her top and gently tease her swelling nipples. At last she agreed to let me untie the top and expose her to the crowd.

I walked her down to one of the popular balconies and stood beside her with my hand on the halter's bow. The alcohol and the fondling had made her more receptive to my instructions. She didn't have enough clarity left to argue with me about the details. My erection grew as the crowd recognized what was about to happen and moved in close. I gently massaged her shoulder and whispered into her ear. "Just drop your arms down to your sides and relax. I will decide when and for how long your tits are exposed to this crowd. You have no control, so just smile and relax." She tensed up as the crowd gathered and as I reached for the bow she closed her eyes. "No. You cannot close your eyes. Smile and look up while these men admire you. Make eye contact. Think about how many erect dicks are pointed at you while I'm holding your top down. Watch how closely these men approach you to get a good look at you." Dina took a deep breath, smiled her gigawatt smile and relaxed her shoulders. I pulled on the bow, and lowered her top right down to her waist and held it there.

Dina's breasts are soft and pale with rose colored areolas the size of silver dollars that swell up when she is excited. Freed from the halter, the top line of her boobs is curved like a ski jump so that her proud nipples were pointing up at the bead throwers. From her tan lines it was clear that these gorgeous breasts were not accustomed to being put on public display. There must have been 50 men around her by the time I dropped her halter top. Cameras flashed instantly. They were already close but now they pressed right up to her. Dina could hear the crude comments all around us. "Look at those nips!" "I wanna motorboat her!" "Oh yeah, I'd fuck her." "I'd titty fuck her." "Show us her ass, too!" Guys were slapping me on the back and thanking me for getting her top down. Bead necklaces rained down. Dina just kept smiling.

Afterward, we almost ran back to the hotel. I was barely able to keep my cock in my pants all the way to the room. I put her on the floor before the door even clacked shut, spreading her legs wide. I lifted her mini and pushed her thong to one side, ramming my throbbing member into her slutty little cunt with all the force I had. Dina's pussy was soaking wet. As soon as the head of my crimson cock breached her outer lips, I slid deeply into her wetness. She convulsed into her first orgasm right there on the floor. We went at it again on the bed and, just before dawn, a third time with Dina bent over our 3rd floor balcony. It was probably the best sex we ever had. When Dina brought up the French Quarter, I knew I was losing control of the situation. But this was different. We didn't know any of the drooling men who saw her in New Orleans and would never see them again. I have to see Fr. Ed every week. I decided to concede her point, but limit the plan as much as possible. Maybe it would still fall through. Maybe she would chicken out.

"So Fr. Ed is getting the French Quarter view, right? He can look but don't touch?" I couldn't negotiate for less. But Dina had been thinking and refining her plan as we drove.

"No, that wouldn't be fair to him. It might be even worse than not getting flashed at all. It's like showing a thirsty man water but not giving him a sip. No Don, that won't be enough" she concluded. "We have to let him touch me."

"C'mon Dina, the French Quarter treatment is more than enough for Fr. Ed" I pleaded. I watched the smile disappear from her face. She quietly stared at me, hesitating.

"Don, I didn't want to ever tell you this, but if you think the French Quarter was a show with no touching you're just naive. As soon as you exposed me those guys were on top of us. Right away, there was a hand reaching under my dress and rubbing my ass. There was no one to push that hand away because you were busy high fiving your new buddies. The hand crept slowly up my rear until he found my panty line. His finger followed my panty line over to my crack and tugged it away from my ass."

"Dammit Dina, why didn't you stop him?" To my regret, I demanded the answer from her.

"Jesus Christ Don, don't you remember your instructions to me? 'You have no control, so just smile and relax.' I didn't stop him because of you and your stupid plan."

"I ... I ... I'm sorry. I ... I ..."

"Shut it Don. Now you're going to hear how your great plan really turned out while a bunch of mouth breathing morons outwitted you with a handful of beads. Anyway, mystery man ran his fingers down toward my pussy. I closed my legs and held my knees together. That stopped him, but I was too drunk to stand that way for long without falling. Pretty soon I had to spread my feet apart again to stabilize myself. He must have seen that as an invitation and moved his hand between my thighs. He began rubbing my pussy lips through my panties. I thought to myself, OK you had your fun move on, and pretty quickly he did. But he was only repositioning himself. Soon I had both of his hands sliding up the outside of my thighs. He slid them right up to my panty line again. I felt his fingers curl around the lace waistband and pull each side in opposite directions, stretching the elastic to its limit. By that point it was easy for him to pull my panties down across my thighs, stopping just above the bottom of my skirt."

"Dina ... look, if I had known ..."

"He finger fucked me Don!" She yelled. "With you standing a foot away, he rubbed his slimy fingers back and forth across my bare pussy lips - over and over - each time, pressing into me a little deeper. In the middle of a public street, with an audience, he had two fingers in me as far as they would go, working back and forth, before you decided to end the show. People watched him do it. I could hear them laughing and taking pictures. I'm not even sure it was the same fingers every time because I was drunk and you left me hanging out so long. I pulled my panties back up while you were retying the knot on my halter. You never even looked down." Dina was breathing hard now. She calmed herself before getting to the point of the whole conversation. In a quiet but firm voice, she continued. "So if you think Fr. Ed is going to get just a flash when you gave more to some drunken pigs on Bourbon Street, you're sadly mistaken. End of discussion."

My head was spinning. I was so confused.

Oh shit, I thought, this plan of hers is going too far. I would never be able to make eye contact with Fr. Ed again. I don't even know if we could be in the same room together. Every time he smiled at Dina I would know that it was different - that this time he was mentally fondling her boobs. But when I heard Dina's complete plan and realized how much time she must have spent thinking about it, I noticed that my cock involuntarily began to stiffen. I had to admit that, like the French Quarter sex, the plan had its appeal. But I needed to keep control of the situation. "I'll go in with you. We'll do this together, like Bourbon Street but better" I proposed.

"Don't be an idiot! He won't enjoy it if you're there." Thinking it through a little more, she threw me a bone. "I'll prop the bathroom window open and you can listen, but keep your mouth shut or you'll ruin it. Please Don, this is five minutes out of your life. I promise. Please let me do this for Fr. Ed. He deserves it, and none the other prudes in this church will ever do it."

"OK Dina, OK. Five minutes in paradise for Fr. Ed. He can stare at your tits all he wants, but anything more only in moderation. I will be outside under the window, keeping silent and keeping track of the time. But if he gets carried away with the touching, three taps on the window means that it's time to shut the plan down and get dressed." I could see on her face that Dina was on a mission now. This was all I could get to rein her in - and I was lucky to get it.

The Saturday night dunk tank was a repeat of Friday night except for Dina's bikini. She had changed colors to lime green. Strange, I thought, the bikini top strap across her back looked like it had been tied in a knot. I wondered if she was having doubts about her plan. Fr. Ed would have enough trouble with simple clasps. I don't know how that knot is coming out.

Dina's shift ended and she climbed out of the tank. "I love you Don" she told me with a hug. Now go find Fr. Ed and bring him to the rectory. It wasn't hard to find him. Earlier I noticed that he happened to be chatting up the flock by working the corn roast table. The corn roast - coincidentally - was the only booth with an unobstructed view of the dunk tank. "That guy must really be desperate" I thought as I went to collect him for Dina. At least bringing him to the rectory gave me an excuse for also being there. I slipped into the back yard and a waited for Dina to open the bathroom window.

The rectory bathroom was the connecting type with a door into the kitchen on one end and a door into the bedroom on the other. It was long and narrow by nature with a stand up shower and toilet on the kitchen end and a double wide vanity on the bedroom end. Above the vanity a wall of mirror panels gave me a good view of the entire room from the corner of the window. I settled in as Dina began casually chatting with Fr. Ed through the door.

"Darn it! I'm stuck. Fr. Ed, can you come in here and help me please?" Dina said in her sweetest vulnerable maiden voice. I could tell that this put her plan into action. Her eyes were wide and her hands slightly trembling as she watched the door swing open and Fr. Ed step forward.

"How can I help you Dear?" Fr. Ed appeared in the doorway. Dina moved further away from the door forcing Fr. Ed to step into the middle of the bathroom. Once he was in position, she turned her back to him, exposing more butt cheek than I recalled seeing in the dunk tank. She had hiked the bottom edges up so much it looked like a thong, which framed two tanned, smooth and inviting moons on full display. I watched Fr. Ed's eyes drop immediately down to those sexy buns, taking advantage of the free look. The pace of my own breathing quickened. Damn, this is really going to happen. Now I wanted to see her tits - and see her volunteer them to Fr. Ed. I reached down to my shorts and adjusted my growing package. The head of my cock pressed urgently against the elastic waist.

"There's a knot in my bikini top. When I got dunked tonight, the water must have swelled the knot and now I can't untie it behind my back. Please see if you can get it off." Dina backed into Fr. Ed to give him a closer look at the knot. The two steps back alternately jiggled each of the buns that commanded Fr. Ed's attention. I'm not sure he even heard her request. "Fr. Ed?" Dina asked again. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and went right to work on the knot. In the mirror, I could see that Dina had already untied the neck straps which were hanging loosely in front of her. While Fr. Ed was working on the knot, Dina slipped her thumb between her chest and the underwire and was gently tugging it forward and away from her chest. Now the only point holding the top in place was the knot.