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Jenna Gives Up Sex For Lent? Part 2

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But she finds new Uses For Old Organ Pipes.

A series in 17 parts, by Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

 

 

The third Sunday of Lent had arrived. Reverend Morris was counting down the days until Easter in the same way a prisoner counts down the days until their release. He was dreading today's morning Eucharist after the embarrassment of last week.

"I still can't believe I was stupid enough to mix up that erotic story with my sermon!" He exclaimed. "Why did I print it out?"

"Ah relax, Simon. It was a fantastic first attempt, and that vicar from Manchester seemed to enjoy it!" Jenna replied, making herself a coffee.

"Yes I know but, well I suppose you're right. Nobody made a complaint. I'm just glad the youth & children were already dismissed to their classes. I'd have had a load of outraged parents begging for me to be defrocked!"

"No damage done," Jenna smiled. "And you truly do have hidden talents. I had no idea you were so good at writing erotica. You should try it again sometime!"

This Sunday's service passed without incident, and most of the congregation were no doubt disappointed that the vicar's sermon had returned to its familiar, boring self. Afterwards, Gordon peered over the top of the organ and smiled as he noticed Jenna.

"Morning!" He said.

"Hello Gordon!" Jenna replied. "How are you getting on with, you know?" She winked.

"Ah that," he laughed. "You weren't kidding when you said use lots of lube, were you? It's fun, but," Gordon lowered his voice. "It doesn't match up to you. I miss our organ lessons."

"Me too. We're halfway through Lent. Stay strong. You'll get through it!"

"I'll try my best! Oh, are these of any interest to you or Simon?" He handed her two tin organ pipes, one smaller than the other. "I know you're into arts and crafts. Thought you might have some use for these. Some of the old pipes have been replaced."

"These are nice!" Jenna said, holding up the pipes. "Great condition."

"They make great wall ornaments. I see loads of them for sale on eBay. Some go for really high prices."

"I'll see if I can get creative. It'll be a fun spring project for me. Thanks Gordon! Oh before I forget, you couldn't do a favor for a member of the church, could you?"

"Certainly!"

"Gladys asked if you could call round and fix a new door handle on her kitchen door. I know you're really good at D I Y; you fitted new wall sockets in the church hall."

The organist's face fell. "Um, oh right. Yes. I'm sure I can."

"Great! She'll be thrilled. Right, I'd better get going. Simon's taking Christopher out for some father-son time, so I'll be home alone. I'll see if I can get creative with these old organ pipes!"

Gordon gulped. The thought of calling round to see Mrs. Wilcox terrified him.

"My God, the old girl will pounce on me like a lioness ambushing a gazelle!" He noticed the churchwarden heading up the aisle. "Norman! Could you do me a favor?"

Jenna arrived back at the vicarage, wondering how to spend the rest of the afternoon. She looked carefully at the two organ pipes, running a finger down the smooth, dull metal.

"Hmm, this larger one, it could be just the right size!"

Up in the bedroom, Jenna lifted her skirt and pulled her panties down to the floor and stepped out of them. Feeling horny, she imagined Gordon walking in and catching her with her legs spread with an organ pipe buried deep in her cunt. The larger pipe measured about 11" long from pointed tip to end of the tapering foot. She remembered what Gordon had told her about organ pipes.

Flue pipes are also known as labial pipes. The foot is the bottom portion of the pipe, usually conical. At its base is the toe hole, through which wind enters it.

"Ooh yeah." Jenna reached between her legs and discovered that she was already dripping wet. She fingered her cunt and clit. Damn, she needed to be filled. She took her time greasing up the organ pipe until it was dripping lubricant.

"Ah!" Jenna began sliding the pipe into her well-lubed cunt, one leisurely inch at a time. When she'd taken about six inches inside, she began slowly pushing it in and out, coating the pipe with her juices.

Her fingers rubbed her clit softly and covered it in her essence. The pressure and speed of her fingers built. She imagined Gordon's thick fingers deep inside her, whilst she lay naked on the organ stool in the church,

Jenna wanted more, wanted it harder. She increased her speed and moved the organ pipe in and out faster. Suddenly, her whole body tensed, the sweet feelings of ecstasy were almost torture. She need to come but wanted the pleasure to last longer. She was almost there, almost tipping over the edge of orgasm. She pushed the pipe still deeper into her womanhood, then reached for the smaller one,

Norman’s Submission

Norman Winstanley turned into Rosebay Gardens, the quaint little cul-de-sac where Mrs. Wilcox lived.

"Nice place for old folk," he mused, parking up in front of the small bungalow. He picked up the small tool bag, headed up the drive and knocked on the door.

Glancing round, he was amused by the pair of garden gnomes on the front lawn. They were dressed in bondage gear.

The front door opened and Mrs. Wilcox appeared. "Oh, hello Norman! What are you doing here?"

"Here to fix your kitchen door, my dear!" Norman replied. "Gordon sends his apologies but something came up."

"Dearie me," the old lady replied, not fooled for a moment. "Oh well, you'll do nicely! Right this way!" She ushered him inside and gave his arse cheeks a squeeze.

Norman raised an eyebrow, but ignored her actions. After all, the old bird was eighty-six.

"God, this feels so amazing!" Jenna gasped as she thrust the small organ pipe up her arsehole. She moaned loudly, her cunt pulsing hard around the larger organ pipe. Her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm.

"Fuck, yes!" The vicar's wife screamed out as she found a new use for the old organ pipes.

"Don't forget to polish the sideboard, dearie!" Mrs. Wilcox smiled as Norman entered the living room and brought her a glass of sherry. He was naked apart from a frilly apron.

"Right you are, Gladys," the churchwarden replied. This was more of a thrill than he ever imagined.

And here I was worrying how I'd survive six weeks without sex from the vicar's wife! He thought.

"Norman!" Mrs. Wilcox snapped. "I asked for a schooner! This glass isn't a schooner! I'm afraid I'll have to discipline you. Turn around at once!"

Norman did as she asked and she struck his bare buttocks with a riding crop.

"Ouch!"

"You're a very naughty boy!" Mrs. Wilcox said. "What are you?"

"I'm a very naughty boy!" Norman replied.

Jenna Breaks Her Lent Vow, In Order To Aid The Bishop.

Bishop George lay in a hospital bed between sleep and vague drowsiness. He was hot, frustrated and uncomfortable. Waiting. Waiting for the nurses to bring him food. Waiting for them to change him. He loathed being dependent on others like this. He'd always gone his own way, not caring whom he offended. Then again he was lucky to be alive, and boredom and frustration were the least of his worries. His leg had been reset, but he was very much troubled by the thought of infection developing.

Bishop George closed his eyes and wondered if he'd be well enough to attend the Easter service at St Michael's Church. He'd been looking forward to it for ages, and it was only two weeks away. Reverend Morris had just departed, having spent an hour with him. The visit had lifted the bishop's spirits and he was thankful for the vicar's kind words.

"That bloody cyclist! He shouldn't have been on the pavement in the first place!"

He'd been walking down the street and had been sent flying when a careless cyclist had crashed right into him. His right leg had been broken in three places. It had been a terrible ordeal, but he didn't expect to remain in hospital for long. You were soon booted out these days.

Bishop George sighed. He wasn't looking forward to his sister Anne, coming to care for him whilst he recovered. Anne was notoriously bossy.

Meanwhile, back at St Michael's Vicarage, Jenna sipped a coffee and idly ran her finger down the cup.

"Poor George," she said, as Reverend Morris returned from visiting him in the hospital. "You know something, why don't we let him stay with us while he recovers? We have two spare bedrooms, one for when Christopher stays over, but the smaller room would be ideal for George. It's got a foldaway bed."

Reverend Morris thought for a moment. "You're absolutely right, Jen. You're a true Christian. The Bishop has been very good to me since I took over at St Michael's. We could provide all the care he needs. Whilst his sister might mean well, she's a rather, fierce individual!"

"I only met her once. She scared me!" Jenna admitted.

The vicar nodded. "Besides, having him staying with us will help keep my mind off, er, you know. I've been struggling recently with what we've given up for Lent."

Jenna smiled. "I know Simon. You've done really well. Not much longer now. When Easter comes, He will rise, I'm not just talking about Jesus, by the way,"

Reverend Morris bit his lip. "He might be rising already, Oh! I can't wait to have sex again, must restrain myself. Right, I'll go call George, and prepare the spare bedroom for him."

The bishop was more than delighted when Reverend Morris arrived to collect him from the hospital, the next day.

"You're quite sure about this, Simon?" He said as the vicar pushed his wheelchair down the aisle. "I don't want to be a burden to you and Jenna. Busy weeks ahead for you, what with Holy Week and so on. And your son, doesn't he stay over on Fridays?"

"Think nothing of it, George. We have two spare bedrooms at the vicarage. There's room for everyone. Jenna and I are glad to have you staying with us. It'll be peace of mind knowing that you'll be safe and well-looked after."

Bishop George smirked to himself. He was definitely looking forward to perhaps getting some special therapy off Jenna. He remembered the little birthday ceremony he'd taken part in just before Christmas,

"Must say, I'm glad to be out of that hospital," he muttered, as he was helped into the car. "The bloke in the bed next to me, he lay there for two hours before someone realized he was dead. Poor sod. I said a few prayers for him."

"That's awful," Reverend Morris replied. “But on the bright side, the soul enjoyed a very prompt wake, with no less than the bishop presiding!”
George finally chuckled at the realization of his good service.

Changing the subject, Simon added; "Well hopefully, you'll find the vicarage a lot more relaxing, and our meals a lot more edible. We both enjoy cooking."

He drove out of the hospital car park and headed for the motorway. "The nursing staff said you were a difficult patient." Simon probed.

"I see. Quite the compliment." Bishop George said. "I'm sure they were exaggerating. Any news from church?" Is Jenna still learning to play the organ?"

The traffic noise was loud, as rush hour was approaching.

"Oh yes! She's made remarkable progress there. Gordon is a fantastic teacher. She's of a good enough standard to stand in for him, on the rare occasions he isn't able to do the Sunday service."

"I'm sure," he replied.

She is very talented indeed at playing a man's organ too! George thought to himself.

"Our churchwarden Norman Winstanley has started spending a lot of time helping one of the older members of church around the house. Gladys Wilcox, she's in her eighties, widowed and lives alone. Her grandson helps where he can, but he works full-time so can't be there on weekdays. I can tell Gladys really enjoys having Norman call round. She's a sweet old lass, been at the church before I was even born. Her husband used to play the organ before Gordon took over."

"That's nice. Not many want to take the time to help the elderly these days."

‘Samaritan’ Services

Bishop George soon settled in at the vicarage. The bed was far more comfortable than the one in

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