Helga Cooper thought that she was much too busy these days. In fact she knew that she was. What with working with two separate dental offices, her volunteer services to the local junior school, plus her house and family to care for, she scarcely had a spare minute to herself anymore. Now to add to her tasks, Father Timothy at her local Catholic church had asked for her help to organize a bake sale and donated clothing distribution.

Father Timothy had telephoned her at work and asked if she could possibly go over to St. Luke’s Catholic Church that evening and help him organize the lists of vendors and volunteers for the upcoming sale. She wanted to scream ‘No’! But didn’t. Father Timothy was a very kind old priest who did require some clerical assistance on occasions. She wanted to be angry, but couldn’t. Father Timothy had come to rely on her to get things done. It was only possible at all this time because her husband had taken the family out of town to visit the grandparents for the weekend. What she had really hoped for was a couple of days rest for herself and now it was looking as if she would be working yet again.

Helga arrived home from work and quickly changed out of her dental assistant work scrubs. She showered and selected a white bra with matching white panties. She combed out her hair and put on some earrings and fresh lipstick and then put on a pair of sheer black thigh-hi stockings, a white silk blouse and a black pleated skirt and heels. She gave herself a quick squib of perfume at the base of her neck and then wondered if, ‘Too Sexy’ by Victoria’s Secret was an appropriate perfume for a meeting with one’s priest.

Giving herself a final once-over look in the mirror in the hallway, she left the house and got back into her car.

Pushing a few loose strands of hair away from her eyes, she backed the car out of the driveway and turned out onto Gary Avenue and headed north those few short blocks to St. Luke’s Catholic Church. If she had more time she would have walked for the exercise but she was already tired from being on her feet all day.

Arriving at St. Luke’s, Helga parked in back of the church and walked over to the rectory. Father Timothy had already noticed her arrival and met her at the doorstep. “I’m so very glad to see you Mrs. Cooper. You have once more arrived in the nick of time to help me out of yet another parish crisis”!

Helga laughed and followed the pudgy old priest into his office. After exchanging a bit of idle chit chat about work and family, Helga sat down at the priest’s desk and got down to reviewing the plans for the upcoming church function.

Not for the first time around Mrs. Cooper, the old priest allowed himself some moments of distraction. His eyes played across her slim body, taking in everything from her opal earrings down to her black high-heeled shoes. While continuing to chat with Helga about the plans for the church bake sale he found himself devouring the sight of her shapely breasts under the delicate white silk material of her blouse and down across her pleated skirt to her trim legs. Obviously enjoying Mrs. Coopers close proximity, the priest was inevitably compromised by the physical man inside the priestly robes. He felt his penis stirring inside of his trousers.

In spite of his advanced age, lack of physical attractiveness and his respected position as Catholic priest, there were those occasional times, when if the opportunity presented itself, he could and would take note of some of his female parishioners. That particular attention was not so much spiritual, as lustful, especially if that female was the likes of someone as alluring as Mrs. Helga Cooper. While Mrs. Cooper was certainly not young, she had a nice slender shape and possessed a certain mature sensual quality that made men notice her. Father Timothy turned out to be no exception.

Totally oblivious to the Father’s more prurient interest in her, Helga worked on the confused mess of notes the priest had handed her. Who was bringing what, how many tables to set up, and whatever refreshments the church ladies could provide? Volunteer work is seldom appreciated, but Helga knew that the kindly old priest was genuinely respectful of her time and efforts.

After an hour of rearranging the notes into a reasonable cohesive sale agenda, Father Timothy poured Helga a glass of wine, explaining how that a glass of wine often would help to recharge the blood. Helga suddenly realized that she had not eaten a thing since a hurried breakfast and her tiredness was rapidly catching up with her. Gulping the wine for quick sustenance Helga soon finished the entire glass. She then managed to provide Father Timothy with a few more completed pages to the plans, including an announcement to place in both the local and church newspaper.

Absorbed as she was in the paperwork, Helga had not noticed the intensity of the priest’s observation of her. Whatever studied observation of her that she had noticed she simply interpreted as the Father’s interest and concern over successfully completing the arrangements for the upcoming church function. She did not for a moment realize that as she occasionally adjusted her position in the office chair by shifting her weight between hips and stretching her tired and cramping legs, she was unwittingly providing Father Timothy with some tantalizing views up her skirt.

The priest sipped at his own glass of wine, quietly observing how the wine on Helga’s empty stomach was slowly performing its trick, as indeed Father Timothy had hoped and prayed. He saw how in spite of her tiredness she pluckily strived to finish up all of the paperwork, but she was in a losing battle with fatigue. Her eyelids were now drooping heavily and her head beginning to nod.

Watching all of this, Father Timothy’s mind was racing with some lustful and impure thoughts. Unbeknownst to Mrs. Cooper, The priest now had a more immediate agenda than church bake sales in mind. When Helga excused herself to use the restroom, he took the liberty of refilling her wine glass. With his arthritic hands trembling in lustful anticipation, he then fished out his bottle of prescription pain medication from his desk and added two tablets to the wine, ensuring they were dissolved into the drink before Helga returned.

When Helga returned to the desk she politely declined the offered drink, explaining how the first glass of wine had gone straight to her head and she needed a clear head to drive home at the conclusion of the church function paperwork. Thinking quickly, Father Timothy countered that he needed to hear just a little more about potential parking problems and if they needed some kind of police presence. Then he craftily pointed out how the first glass of wine had helped her overcome the demon paperwork, but he was now left with a glass already poured for her.

The Father pointed towards the glass. “Shame to waste it, Waste not – want not” he intoned seriously.

Helga managed a tired smile, reached for the glass and gulped down the second measure of wine the glass of dark red Merlot that also contained two dissolved tablets of Hydrophone – popularly known as Vicodin.

After Helga had finished drinking her drugged wine, Father Timothy kept her distracted with conversation while anxiously counting the moments until the drug took effect. When Helga finally lay the paperwork down and stopped chatting, he stepped out of the office for a minute to use the bathroom. While in the bathroom he quickly removed all of his clothing save for his priest’s robe and when he returned to the office a short time later, Helga appeared to be sound asleep in the chair.

The Priest quietly walked to the office chair and placed his hand on Helga’s shoulder. He gently shook her. “Mrs. Cooper, are you alright”? There was no response. The priest shook her again more vigorously. “Mrs. Cooper … Helga … Helga can you hear me”?

With Mrs. Cooper totally unresponsive, Father Timothy took in the scene. Helga was slumped in the office chair, apparently unconscious, or in a deep sleep. She was relaxed to the point where her usual lady-like posture was compromised. He saw that Helga’s knees had come apart to where he could see her inner thighs … and in a moment of male weakness, he knelt down to where he could look directly up her skirt.

Old Father Timothy sucked in his breath at the sight of Helga’s white lace panties between her stocking tops. As a priest he had had very little physical contact with the opposite sex. In fact he had been disciplined to ignore their differences and their allurements. But where the religious tenants may have been strong, Father Timothy had his weaknesses. After an entire lifetime as a Catholic priest, in all honesty there were times when he could not help himself looking an attractive woman. And Helga Cooper was certainly that. He leaned in closer to her knees in an attempt to see the crease of her womanhood outlined in her panties, but instead saw a small white pad inside the crotch. He assumed that she might be in her menstrual cycle but the pad seemed quite small and white as it showed through her panties. He became aroused at the sight of her.

He leaned closer still to where his face was an inch away from her skirt hem.“May God forgive my curiosity” he muttered. Not only could he see all the way up under Helga’s skirt… but now he could actually smell her, and feel the musky warmth under her skirt and the intoxicating intimate smell of her womanhood. His penis twitched underneath his robe. He called out to her again. “Mrs. Cooper … are you alright”?

Helga Cooper remained silent and unmoving. Father Timothy reached down and took hold of Helga’s right foot, and gently eased off her high heel shoe. Almost absentmindedly he began caressing Helga’s stocking clad foot. He looked at the pink polish on her toes, the re-enforced toe and ankle of her stocking and then gazed up the full length of her leg, all the way up under the hem of her skirt, until his gaze rested again at her panties.

Father Timothy was challenged. Not only spiritually, but physically as his penis grew erect underneath his priestly robe. A small voice of conscience attempted to break through his sensual intoxication and he heard the admonitions… “Get thee behind me Satan’ … and “Lead me not into temptation”.

In response to those inner murmurings he could only breathlessly exhale and whisper… “This has nothing to do with Satan because Mrs. Cooper isn’t evil” he muttered. “Mrs. Cooper is a beautiful gift from God. She is the gift God has given to this unworthy priest”.

Mesmerized by the closeness of her, Father Timothy called out again to Helga, but there was still no response she remained, unmoving and unresponsive, slumped in the chair. Assured that Helga would not know what was happening, he then slid his wrinkled, trembling hands up underneath her skirt. He felt the palms of his hands brush against her stockings and he softly caressed her thighs with his fingers.

Still kneeling in front of her, Father Timothy moved in closer to Helga’s slumped body. He lifted the front of his priest’s robe and allowed his erect penis to be freed. Leaning into her between her knees he tentatively rubbed his penis against her stockings and the underside of her skirt. His old wrinkled penis had never known such tactile pleasure. He repeatedly rubbed it against her legs and against her skirt. He told himself that he was not doing any harm… she wasn’t aware of anything… He wasn’t really violating her …. He really wasn’t doing anything … … wrong… Really.!?

So the kindly old Father Timothy knelt in prayer between Helga’s spread knees and up against the hem of her skirt. His head back and eyes closed, as if deep in prayer, but panting for breath and body shuddering….. It was quite apparent that the old priest was involved in something far more lurid than simply on his knees in prayer. Dismissing the pain in his arthritic knees he continued to rub his penis against Helga’s inner thighs, alternately praising god for his heavenly good fortune and wheezing and grunting out his lust. “Oh Mrs. Cooper, he wheezed, “You are my altar”. So he kneeled and prayed at his altar, dutifully rubbing his penis against her stockings. “Oh Helga … Helga … Helga …. Helga ….” And then a miracle. A warm rush began. Up from deep within Father Timothy’s ancient testicles, up and out through his penis … the priest ejaculated hot semen to spurt uncontrollably up and under Helga’s skirt.

Father Timothy was panicked. If only he had been content to simply peek up Mrs. Cooper’s skirt it would have been alright. Perhaps even caressing her legs a little… but now he knew he was in trouble. The physical proof of his unholy activities was glistening on Helga’s stockings, more on the underside of her skirt… and some… some had even spurted on the front of her panties. Undeniable … damning proof of his lust.

Shaken at the rather crude display of his own lust, Father Timothy then went about the task of trying to figure out what needed to be done next to make sure he covered his tracks. First he needed something to clean up the mess. He slowly managed to regain his feet and stumble to the bathroom. He returned with a wet washcloth and dry towels and struggled to regain his composure. His trembling hands shook as he attempted to eliminate the incriminating evidence by gently wiping his semen from Helga’s legs and dabbing at her stockings and skirt. Of course he discovered that the more he dabbed with the damp washcloth, the wetter her legs and clothing became. He tried his best to dry the growing mess with a towel and then finally smoothed Helga’s skirt down to a more demure position at her knees.

Exhausted at his efforts of masturbating himself under Helga’s clothing and attempting to clean up the results, he sank down on the carpet at her feet with his head in his hands. Everyone has their failings, but Father Timothy had fallen from grace rather dramatically in the short time Mrs. Cooper had been sitting in his office. The schism in his mind widened and his thoughts became jumbled. He muttered incoherently, defending his actions to himself and his god. “She was my gift”, he muttered. “Mrs. Cooper was a holy gift”

After what seemed like hours, Father Timothy raised his head and gazed again at Helga sitting in the office chair. Still unconscious, she was sitting back in the chair with her legs together and turned slightly sideways with the hem of her skirt down at a respectable position on her knees. Father Timothy’s brain was overloaded by her presence. Her femininity filled the room and the warm musky aroma of her sex intoxicated his senses.

The Priest consciously never remembered getting back up onto his painfully arthritic knees and shuffling forward to kneel in front of her again. He was only aware of staring at the front of her blouse, at her breasts raising and falling with her steady breathing. Underneath his robes, Father Timothy’s penis again began rising to the occasion.

“Helga, Helga, blessed are you among women” he intoned as he reached out and placed a hand on each of her knees and slowly spread her legs further apart. He then knelt in as close as he possibly could against the insides of her trim legs. He drew a deep breath and gently pushed the front of Helga’s skirt up onto her thighs.

Advanced age and possible senility, but certainly unbridled carnal lust now dominated the Priest’s thoughts. The kindly old priest and protector of his flock was losing control of his more compassionate religious ideals. He began to ramble and mumble to himself. “Immaculate Conception ………………Yes…………..I need to assist this member of my congregation in a holy cause”. Father Timothy’s eyes shone with the new revelation. “Yes, oh yes. Mrs. Cooper will receive the gift of a truly Holy Baby!’ he announced to himself. “A baby actually fathered by the priest of her church. What could be holier than that”?

Father Timothy’s unholy lust for Helga Cooper caused his delicate hold upon his mental faculties to become progressively more strained. His thinking confused, he pressed himself up between Helga’s trim legs with his penis in hand. He fumbled about ineptly due to his inexperience but managed to push her skirt up higher onto her waist and looked at her panties. Reasoning that is was simpler not to attempt to remove them he took the crotch of her panties in one hand and pulled it aside.

The priest stared between Helga’s spread legs. Holding her panty crotch aside he looked at her pink glistening lips. “Oh Lord, you have made your humble servant a gift of this fine woman”. The head of his swollen penis bumped against her legs and tummy before finally being pressed against her labia. Poised at the opening between her wet lips, he began rambling. “Oh, my sweet Mrs. Cooper not only will you have a holy baby but you shall also have the honor of taking my virginity. And it’s for your own good, my sweet Helga because if you do end up with child ………it is best you have a holy baby!”

Father Timothy then pushed the swollen head of his penis into Helga’s wet vagina.

A primal groan escaped from the priest’s mouth as he pushed his penis deeper and deeper into Helga’s vagina. As his penis violated her, Father’s Timothy’s hold on rationality became more unstable. He mumbled incessantly to himself… a rambling mixture of prayers and lust, of divinity and degradation, sacraments and sex, of deities and defilement. “The Lord is my shepherd … he leaded me to Mrs. Cooper … he provided me with her vagina … “he muttered. “Oh Helga … your beautiful vagina is my altar and I am worshiping you. I am worshiping your precious wonderful cunt … Oh I should not say that word, should I ….. It is your womanhood… your precious place, your feminine mystery, your sex … your vagina… Oh Helga… it is your cunt, your beautiful, warm, wet beautiful holy cunt!” As much as his elderly body and arthritic joints could manage, he thrust into her. “Hail Helga, my cock is with you and blessed is thy beautiful cunt, and blessed will be my sperm inside of your womb. Holy Helga, Mother of our immaculate conception …

As he knelt between her legs, thrusting into her, Father Timothy began sobbing, his words mostly incoherent. “Hail Helga … you are god’s gift. Accept my offering and take my worshipful cock inside of your temple… allow this simple priest to enter and pray at your altar… to open your legs .. To enter your holy grail … to anoint you with my sperm, to father your holy child”.

Father Timothy was on a spiritual and emotional meltdown. It never registered upon his lust obsessed mind that he was actually raping a member of his congregation. Instead he took a firm hold on her hips with both hands and continued to thrust into her. He cried and muttered to himself as his seventy year old penis slid up and down inside Helga’s vagina. Totally intoxicated by her feel and smell, he stroked into her and prayed… “Holy Helga … Accept the cock I offer you … Accept my sperm that it may it flood your holy womb and bring forth the miracle of conception. The holiest of immaculate conceptions made possible by the cock of this humble priest and your immaculate vagina… your holy grail … your beautiful wonderful cunt …”

Unlike anything he had ever experienced before, Helga’s tight vagina seemed to hold and massage his penis with every furtive lustful stroke. The priest marveled at everything before him with his gift from god, so unknown and so wonderful. He looked at the front of Helga’s skirt, all bunched up on her waist and thighs. He looked up at her silk blouse and watched the way her beautiful breasts rose and fell as she breathed. He thought of her breasts, the symbol of motherhood… and unable to deny the temptation, he reached out and unbuttoned her silk blouse. It fell open to reveal a white brassier with lace embroidery. As if inviting his curiosity… his eyes fixed on the center clasp between the cups of her brassier. His shaking hand reached in and undid the clasp. The cups of Mrs. Cooper’s pretty brassier separated to reveal her bare breasts.

He stopped stroking into Helga’s vagina and stared at her breasts. They were beautiful with light brown nipples. He tried to lean down and place his face against them, but he discovered that he couldn’t bend that much and remain inside her. He leaned back and withdrew his penis from Helga’s vagina. It made a slight sucking sound as her tight vagina released its hold on his penis. Father Timothy leaned his face down to lightly kiss her breasts, and then began suckling at her nipple.

Betrayed by his inner demons and uncontrollable lust, Father Timothy was now hopelessly compromised as a man, and more importantly, as a Catholic Priest. He was almost childlike as he pressed his face into Helga’s, breasts where he snuffled, kissed and suckled at Helga’s nipples. His occasional tears now falling onto, and running down Helga’s breasts.

Like his changing emotions, his childlike suckling slowly gave way to a more demanding need. His twitching penis could no long be denied. He stopped suckling her breasts and moved his hips in closer against Helga’s body. Once again pulling aside her panty, he guided his erect penis into Helga’s vagina and resumed raping her. Helga’s tight vagina enveloped him and he pushed his penis deeper into her.

Father Timothy was an old portly priest, with no knowledge of the sexual techniques common to most men and women, but animal instinct took over from inexperience. Lust replaced learning and rape overcame remorse. His swollen penis moved up and down inside her and he continued to thrust into Helga’s vagina until he was almost exhausted. Finally his prayers and physical efforts were rewarded. God’s blessing had descended upon him. He felt his testicles spasm… and hot semen was again surging up through his penis. Only this time it was not to be wasted on her legs and skirt, this time to be gloriously ejaculated deep up inside of Helga’s vagina. The orgasms he experienced almost caused the old priest to lose consciousness as he ejaculated all the semen possible from his old testicles.

Father Timothy was curled up in the fetal position on the floor at Helga’s feet. He was shaking and in a state of exhaustion. When he finally raised himself up he could see that Helga was spread just as he had left her. The front of her skirt was just how it had been, pushed up high onto her waist and hips. This time as he looked between her legs he was horrified to see a creamy substance seeping from her vagina.

On no, he thought. There is so much semen in her that it was seeping out. For some reason he believed that once semen was inside a woman, that it stayed there with nothing more to be seen… no evidence left in view. And here she was with her vagina leaking his sperm onto the seat of his office chair.

The feral, self-protective portion of his brain took over as he realized the now raped Mrs. Cooper would surely discover his criminal act if all of his sperm leaked out into the crotch of her panties. He ran to the bathroom and washed out the cloth he had used earlier. Returning to Helga, Father Timothy then wiped her tummy and vaginal lips gently, then spread her legs once again to wipe the shiny glaze off her inner thighs and dabbed at the milky seepage from her vagina that was pooling on the chair seat.

When he had wiped her off thoroughly with the washcloth he proceeded to dry the same areas with the towel. Then reluctantly he un-bunched the skirt that was high on her waist, pulled the hem down her stocking clad legs to just above her knees and smoothed out the material of her skirt with his hands. Next, he retrieved her high-heeled shoes and slipped them onto her feet. Then pulled her bra cups together, re-clipped them and finished up buttoning her blouse.

He was too old to be lifting much of anything, but he found the strength to lift Mrs. Cooper and carry her over to the nearby sofa. He obtained a blanket from the adjoining room, opened it and covered the drugged Mrs. Cooper. “Oh, you’re such a sweet gift!” Father Timothy muttered as he looked at Helga’s face. He reached up and tenderly brushed some strands of hair from her cheeks.

Helga had become his Goddess. She was his Mary, his Mother, his goddess and perhaps… dare he even think… perhaps pregnant by him and soon to be mother of their holy child. A moment of doubt crossed his features. He wondered at his age weather he was physically capable of impregnating her. He had only just been capable of having sexual intercourse with her… but what if his sperm was weak… Immobile… Low count …

But he was God’s Chosen. … The holy priest ordained to give Helga a holy child… god would not be so cruel as to let him physically possess her without granting the proof… the proof beyond doubt that he had impregnated her. The Immaculate Conception.

God had provided her to him. He was now convinced that Mrs. Cooper had been singled out by god to have the priest’s child. There, at that time and place, Mrs. Cooper had walked into the church office and been delivered to him. With her skirt up, breasts bared and lovely legs apart… she had been given to him.

Getting an alarm clock, Father Timothy set the alarm for 6 a.m. in the morning, figuring that when she awoke Mrs. Cooper could then drive the few blocks to her home. He’d be sure to be up early and enter the office where she slept just when the alarm went off. He would explain that in her exhausted condition he could not in good conscience allow her to drive home. So much safer to let her sleep on the couch and leave in the morning.

Tucking the blanket under the dozing Mrs. Cooper, he worried if she would notice things when she awoke in the morning. She was after all a married woman… used to being used in that way, but there would be no way to explain away all the semen leaking from inside of her. Do woman know they have been filled? And what about discomfort? Will she feel any pain between her beautiful legs due to being violated?

Father Timothy was terribly confused. Had he really compromised his position as a Catholic priest? Had he really sinned? Had he actually committed a heinous crime? Had he not only raped Mrs. Cooper, but more importantly violated his priestly vows and the sacred tenants of the Holy Catholic Church
“No”, he rationalized. “He hadn’t really raped Helga Cooper; he had received a holy dispensation … a directive from god. No, it definitely was not rape. It was a holy act. It was communion, a Holy Communion.

Early the next morning, Helga blinked her eyes as she was awakened by the sound of an alarm clock going off. Opening her eyes, Helga was startled at the unfamiliar surroundings about her. She gasped at first, and then realized that she was in Father Timothy’s office at the church rectory. Helga discovered that she was lying upon the sofa in the office and a blanket was covering her fully clothed body. ‘Oh, my gosh’, she thought. Those two glasses of wine must have really done her in!

Groggily she sat up, folded the blanket back and swung her feet out onto the carpet. When she stood up and took a couple of steps, Helga quickly realized that apart from still being sleepy, she was also quite sore and wet between her legs. She certainly knew that she had always leaked some fluids quite naturally, and often wore the small panty liners to absorb it. Lifting the front of her skirt, she pulled the front of her panties out and looked at the pad she wore for leakage. The pad nestled in the crotch of her panties certainly was wet… excessively wet. Then again she had been unable to change it all the time she had been at the rectory.

Standing outside the door to his office for the past five minutes while waiting to hear the alarm clock go off, Father Timothy then waited another moment before knocking upon the door and calling out loudly “Miss Cooper”? Helga quickly dropped the front of her skirt.

Father Timothy knocked on the door again and then opened it. He stuck his head in and called out, “Good Morning Mrs. Cooper . . . Helga! Time to get up! It’s 6 a.m.!” Helga felt flustered at her predicament. “Oh, Good Morning Father Tim I am so sorry. I was overly tired from work and I suppose the wine last night put me straight to sleep”. She tried to tidy back the ragged strings of hair that were falling across her face. “Oh good grief, what must you think of me” Father Timothy quickly shushed her. “Please do not worry your pretty head about it, my child!” he advised her. “Well I apologize for being such an imposition on you”, Helga responded.

Father Timothy shushed her again and went on to explain that under the circumstances it had been a most prudent solution. After all, he explained. He could not compromise her safety by letting her make her own way home when she was so obviously fatigued. He had decided the best thing for her was that she stay in the rectory and sleep on the sofa.

Helga smiled at the old priest and sleepily stretched herself. Yes, she thought. ‘Father Tim is so kind and understanding! I’m so lucky to have him for my priest’. Although she agreed with him that it was a good decision to remain safely at the rectory overnight, she did curse to herself about the Father’s old sofa. She must have slept very badly as her back was aching and her legs were very sore.

The priest knew that he should get Helga to wash herself quickly while she was still sleepy. A hot shower with lots a soap would wash away any evidence of his indiscretions with her. “What you need young lady is a piping hot shower to refresh you. If you would like to shower and tidy yourself up, I will make us some coffee”

Harmless old Father Tim stood in the rectory kitchen putting the water on for coffee and listening to the shower running in the bathroom. He could not help visualizing Helga removing her blouse and stepping out of her skirt and panties. He suddenly remembered how Mrs. Cooper had told him that her husband and family were away visiting ….. .

Perhaps he should make Helga a special cup of coffee . . . coffee containing more of his prescription pain pills? Perhaps he could have Holy Communion with her again… following morning mass … or just before morning mass …or perhaps …..both.

THE END

---