The Organist Entertains Ch. 05

The parish of St Leonards was certainly a changed one in recent months. The new incumbent vicar, Reverend Maxine Power had seen to that. Congregations had increased, new members had been added to the choir, the Sunday School had been reinstated and a parish fete had been planned for the coming Saturday Afternoon.

The parishioners had also become friendlier towards each other, most notably to date the organist, Peter Noakes, who had enjoyed pleasuring the vicar herself, a choirgirl's mother and the not so meek and mild Sunday School teacher. His most recent conquest was with the churchwarden's wife, who was much older and larger than any of his previous conquests and was also a closet alcoholic. He was also worried that they had been caught during their encounter by Mary's younger daughter, Josie, and whether she would tell her father. As a result, he didn't sleep very well again that night.

He was round at David's office by nine thirty the following morning. It was now Thursday and it seemed like a lifetime since he had had his first encounter in Maxine's car on the cliff top on the Saturday afternoon, followed by their antics in the vicarage after the following morning's service. To call David's workplace an office was actually a bit of an understatement. It was actually their former home, a large Victorian house with an old stable block which had been converted over twenty years previously into larger premises for the business when they had moved to their current bungalow.

The building had quite large grounds in front of it, mainly lawns with a few small flower beds, and some small conifer hedges bordering each boundary of the property to give some privacy and also to avoid causing distress to the neighbours, which were both private houses. The stables had been converted into garages for the hearse, two limousines and a private ambulance and were separated from the front garden by two large black wooden gates. The driveway to the gates and round in front of the main door was black tarmac and a low wall separated the property from the main road.

Peter called into the reception area where Josie was sitting at her desk to find out what needed doing in the grounds and was soon hard at work trimming the hedge borders. It was a much cooler day and overcast following the previous day's storm and so was more pleasant to work in. He had been working for about an hour when David came out to speak to him. He was all dressed up in his funeral clothes which consisted of a black tailcoat, grey striped trousers and a white shirt and a black tie.

"Hello, thanks for coming round yesterday and sorting out that tree. Mary's been nagging at me for months to get it sorted, but you know how it is when you get to my age, it's like when you see a pretty girl, the mind wants to, but the body can't!" he said. For a Funeral Director he was quite a jovial character and in the right circumstances had a jolly sense of humour. "And I hear you were looking after Mary yesterday during the thunderstorm. The old girl never has liked them you know. She said you managed to take her mind off it."

"Well, yes," said Peter. He wondered just how much David knew and whether it was a ruse to get him to admit to anything. "Mind you, a few glasses of 'Old Sparky' helped!" he said. David laughed.

"The old girl always has liked that," he said. "I don't drink it much myself, it's a bit too potent, but Mary likes to offer it to visitors. It's a great ice breaker."

Peter knew just how much of an ice breaker it was. Doubtless if it hadn't been for the storm and two glasses of the stuff, he wouldn't have done what he had with Mary the previous day.

"Were you out in it yesterday?" he said tactfully changing the subject away from Mary.

"No, thank heavens," said David. "We were getting a client ready for a final viewing but I was talking to Joe Richardson in The Plough last night and they were doing a burial in the town cemetery when the storm broke and they practically had to drop the coffin in the hole. They were like drowned rats when they had finished. Mind you, I've always said that Joe Richardson has been a big drip for years and that son of his is wet behind the ears!"

Richardson's were the only other funeral business in the town and David laughed out loud at his witticism over his rival's misfortunes.

"Anyway, can't stand here talking, we've got to take Sheila on her final journey," he said turning towards the black gates which were now open. "I'll perhaps see you later when we get back and we can go for a pint in The Plough afterwards. If you need anything, Josie's in the office."

"Yes, okay," said Peter.

He watched as David strode away. The hearse, complete with coffin, had now pulled through the gates into the front garden. David opened the passenger door and took out his bowler hat and cane. He put his hat on and walked to the front of it, bowed and turned to face the main entrance. Suddenly he was very stern and serious looking as he strode slowly and purposely towards the gate, followed by the hearse and two limousines. Peter bowed his head as it passed by. The cortege paused at the entrance as the funeral attendant in the second limousine closed the black gates and got in the passenger seat. David bowed again and got into the passenger seat of the hearse and Peter watched as it turned onto the main road and drove away.

He resumed his work trimming the hedges, tidying up each section as he worked, piling up the branches as he had done the previous day ready for the council to collect. The overcast sky had darkened a little and it had started to drizzle with rain. This didn't worry him too much but in the space of half an hour, it came on quite heavy and persistent. In the end he decided that enough was enough and he decided to call it a day and come back the following morning to finish off. He went to the office where Josie had been working earlier, but the door was locked. He rang the bell and she came to open it. Her dark hair was once again pulled back with the tortoiseshell claw she had worn the day before. She was wearing a grey cardigan, blue and white vertical striped blouse and a straight black knee length skirt. A pair of black court shoes and dark hosiery completed the outfit.

"Sorry about that," she said. "I'm on my own now that dad and the boys are out and we always lock the door to stop anyone wandering in. Both cars are out today otherwise sometimes there's someone here with me so then we don't bother."

"Oh, right," said Peter. "It's come on wet now, so I'm going. If it eases, I might come back later, otherwise I'll be back in the morning, if that's okay."

"Sure," said Josie. "Would you like a drink before you go? I was just going to have one."

"It's not 'Old Sparky', is it," said Peter cautiously.

"Oh my God no!" said Josie. "I see mum got you on that yesterday. Personally, I can't stand it. It goes straight to my head. It's tea or coffee only, I'm afraid."

Peter settled for a cup of tea and he followed Josie to the kitchen and watched as she set about making it.

"It's a nice place you've got here," he said as Josie switched on the kettle and placed a teabag into each of two mugs.

"Yes," she said. "This used to be our home you know. I can remember living here when I was at primary school, then Dad brought the bungalow and turned this into the business office. Before that, we used to have rather cramped premises near the station. We've just had a few alterations done. Would you like to have a look around while the kettle boils?"

Peter agreed and she led him from the kitchen back into the hallway towards the front door. Josie's office was on the right as you walked in the front door. It had once been the house dining room. Opposite was another door which she opened.

"It looks different," said Peter. "I don't remember it being like this when I came to see Wendy."

Wendy was Peter's wife. She had died three years earlier from breast cancer and Stanlakes had handled all the arrangements.

"No it wasn't, we've recently had this room renovated," Josie said. "This was our lounge and we used to use it as a waiting area but we've now branched out into hospitality so that mourners can come back here after the funeral and mingle, have a few refreshments and a chat, you know. Dad's persuaded Trish Thorndike to come and help with the catering. She used to work in a baker's shop until a few weeks ago so she knows all about food hygiene."

The room was quite large and contained a couple of sofas and armchairs plus a few small tables and chairs. There was probably about room for thirty people. Josie then led him down the hallway past the stairs. The next door from the lounge was the old library and it was tastefully decorated with two easy chairs and a sofa.

This is where we bring clients to discuss the arrangements," said Josie. "Usually my dad or Rebecca will come in here with them."

Peter was quite impressed. There wasn't anything dreary or mournful. Everything was very tastefully decorated and in light airy colours. At the end of the hallway was a door with a key pad to allow entry. Josie keyed in the digits and pushed the door forward. There was a short corridor with three wide doors at equal distances and another door at the end.

These are our chapels of rest," she said. "This is where people come to pay their last respects. Sheila was in this one until this morning," she said opening the first door. There was a simple bier covered in a pale cream satin cloth, a chair and a small table with a box of tissues.

"We can put things in here, like a bible, family mementos, photographs, anything like that," she said. "There's nobody in the next one and Sid Carter is in the one at the end."

She took him through the door at the end of the corridor where there was a lift to the upper floor and the door which led out to the garages and also the mortuary.

"Well you certainly have a good set up here," said Peter as they walked back into the hallway past the stairs. "What's up there?"

"Storerooms and the like. Come up and see," said Josie. They went upstairs and she showed him the rooms. The large bedroom at the back was full of wooden coffins, minus their fixtures and fittings. There were about a dozen there. "These are all standard sizes," she explained. "If we need anything larger or more elaborate, we have to order them in."

Next to that was the linen store containing various rolls of material for lining the coffins plus various sized shrouds and other clothing items. The little bedroom on the front contained wardrobes where the staff kept their formal uniform jackets and coats and also stored their everyday coats and bags when they were at work. There was also a bathroom and finally a fully fitted bedroom overlooking the front garden. Peter was a bit surprised as the bed was made up complete with sheets and a duvet.

"What do you need that for?" he asked pointing to the bed.

"Some of the guys use it when they're on call at night," she said. "It saves them disturbing their families if they get called out in the middle of the night. Dad's used it a few times, so have Derek and Ron. It's very comfortable."

She sat on the left hand side and swung her legs onto the bed giving Peter a flash up her skirt as she did so.

"Come and see for yourself," she said laying her head back on the pillow and patting the space next to her.

Peter was a bit hesitant however the bed did look very comfortable so he kicked off his trainers and walked round to the opposite side. He lay on the bed next to Josie, his hands on his stomach, looking up towards the ceiling.

"It is comfy, isn't it?" he said. "I could almost nod off on here."

Josie turned towards him and propped herself up on her right elbow.

"You could do a lot more than nod off on here," she said, running her left hand slowly down Peter's left leg.

"Now come on," said Peter sitting up. "We can't do anything here. Your dad will be back in a bit and besides, what if someone needs your services?"

"Dad won't be back for ages yet," said Josie, pushing him back again. She looked at her watch. "It's nearly half past eleven. They'll be at St Martins now for the service, that'll be for about half an hour, then they've got to go to the crematorium, that's not until twelve thirty, so nobody will be back here much before one o'clock. We've got about an hour and a half all ourselves."

"Supposing someone comes to the door or phones up," said Peter. "You can't ignore them."

"Nobody can get in," said Josie. "We don't get many personal callers. If we do, I'll go and answer them and should anyone ring there's a phone on the bedside table here, and one in the mortuary and the garage. It rings everywhere so I can easily answer it."

She pointed to a black phone on the bedside table next to her.

"Well, you certainly have everything covered," said Peter.

"Like I say, relax," said Josie pushing him back on the bed again. "There's just you and I up here, and Sid and Emily downstairs, and they won't be disturbing us!"

Peter had forgotten about the two deceased persons downstairs; Sid in the chapel of rest and Emily in the mortuary cooler, but his mind was soon diverted as Josie leaned over him and started kissing him on the lips. He reciprocated and put his arms round her shoulder blades, pulling her towards him so that her breasts brushed against his chest. His cock had risen dramatically beneath his denim jeans and Josie ceased her kissing actions just long enough to unfasten his zip and pull it out through his boxer shorts with her left hand. She started to run her hand along its shaft while leaning across him and kissing him once more. Every so often, she would run her thumb over the glans at the end, feeling for any precum that may have formed.

Once she was satisfied that all in order, she pulled herself up and turned round so that she was kneeling at right angles to Peter's left hip. She pulled off her shoes and dropped them behind her and they fell with a clump to the floor, then she steadied his cock with her right hand and supported his balls with her left and brought her mouth down encasing his cock completely so that the glans was touching the back of her throat. She started sucking enthusiastically, bobbing her head up and down in a steady rhythm. Peter lay back, slightly propped up on his elbows watching her as she proceeded. Her hair which had previously been held tidily in place by the crocodile claw had now started to come loose and strands of it were hanging down in all sorts of places. This did not seem to deter her as she carried on regardless, making little 'um,um' sounds as she went, until finally, Peter felt his cock tense and he shot forth a load down the back of her throat. She swallowed it greedily, trying desperately and eventually successfully not to let any spill onto the bed sheet or her clothes.

Her hair was now a right mess and most of it had worked loose from the hair claw. When she had finished, and licked his prick clean, she pulled the claw from her hair and shook her head, letting it cascade sexily round her shoulders. This was the second time in two days that Peter had seen her with her hair down and he felt his cock stiffen once more. He pushed her back onto the pillow so that she lay with her hair splayed out around her and her knees slightly in the air. He came down across her and started kissing her once more, his arms round her shoulder blades, hers around his. His tongue darted between her lips and she repeated his actions. He brought his right hand down between her knees and pulled the front of her skirt up slightly. His hand disappeared into the gloom working its way up her nylon clad legs until he felt the damp in her crotch. He was slightly disappointed to find she was wearing tights, but she was clearly very excited as the dampness had seeped through her knickers onto the dark nylon.

He brought his hand back out and broke free from their tonging. He held her shoulders gently with both hands and kissed her delicately on the lips before moving himself astride her prostrate body. He started to unfasten the buttons on the front of her cardigan until they were all undone, then followed immediately with those on her blouse. She lay back with her head on the pillow looking up at him expectantly as he did so and sat up briefly to allow him to slide each article off her shoulders and down her arms and away, only pausing to unfasten the buttons at the end of the blouse sleeves. He placed them on the end of the bed behind him and turned back to marvel at the white silky slip she wore underneath, with its slender straps resting on her shoulders adjacent to those of the skimpy mauve bra which it covered. She lay back on the pillow and arched her back slightly to allow him to put his hands behind the waistband of her skirt and unfasten the little button and slide the zip down. Slowly he pulled it away from her body, and it slid over the rest of the shiny material beneath. She lay back and bent her knees double to allow him to do so and once clear of her feet, he reached behind to place it with her other clothes.

Her dark tights could clearly be seen stretching up under it to her crotch and Peter pushed the hem of the slip up a little way. Taking hold of the waistband, he pulled them down over her legs and round her ankles until they were clear of her feet and she maintained her laid back, knees bent position while he did so.

"Interesting colour combination!" he said, eyeing the items still adorning her body. Her tights had revealed a pair of crimson red tight panties that rubbed across her pussy lips, one of which could just be seen peeking out from the crotch. "Did you get dressed in the dark?"

"Cheeky so-and-so!" said Josie with a grin. "I just pulled out the first thing to hand. If I had known that I was going to be entertaining, I would have hunted around for a matching set."

Peter laughed. He caught hold of the panties and pulled them down over her knees to her ankles and tossed them on the ever growing pile of clothes. Her dark neatly trimmed pussy awaited him, with her partly opened lips beckoning him forward. He spread her legs wide enough apart to position his head against it with her knees slightly in the air. Kneeling before her, he positioned his fingers against the lips and inserted a finger. She was dripping wet so he put his tongue inside her and started licking.

Josie lay back on the bed; her eyes closed moaning with ecstasy. As Peter licked and slurped his way inside her, her hands were resting on her breasts and she was rubbing them over her slip and bra. She managed to pull the front of the slip down a little and squeeze her tits out above the bra and started massaging each one until they were bullet hard. Every so often, she would let out a little gasp as his tongue made contact with her clit and this only managed to make her even wetter. Of all the conquests Peter had had that week, she was the quietest. There was no shouting or swearing, no thrashing about, just the little gasps and a few 'oohs and aahs' until she erupted with a big sigh out onto the sheet.

Peter lifted his head up and looked up at her. She was still lying back with her eyes closed fingering her tits. He unfastened his jeans and slipped them off, followed by his boxers and slid up over her body. He pulled the straps of her slip down her arms and managed to release them from it, then reached behind and unfastened her bra and removed it as well. Her breasts were cone shaped and quite small with the small teats positioned exactly on the ends. He put his tongue down onto the right one and started licking it and sucking it alternately before repeating the exercise with the left one. His cock was now huge and Josie could feel it pressing up against her upper leg. Peter eased himself up and guided it towards her waiting pussy and into the chasm beyond. She gasped as she felt all seven inches bury itself inside her. In his usual steady style, he began thrusting in and out of her.