Monday, January 9, 2012

The Cathedral

Another one, by request. I don't know if I like this one as much as some of the others. Still, here goes nothing:

A chill races across the grasslands of the church graveyard that lines the chapel I have journeyed to in search of solace. Winter has come full-force, and I hear the bells from the cathedral chime in an eerie, mournful cascade of harmony. With my coat wrapped around me, I walk with purpose to the huge oak doors that lead into the sanctuary. I place my hand on the iron handle, and the door swings open against the wind, almost too strong to handle. With determination, I close it behind me, and stand in the hollowness of the high-columned walls of the church's heart. Stained glass windows reflect the sun in myriads of glowing primaries, and my steps echo to the archways 50 feet above.

I am alone.

I walk to the front where the altar sits dusty and unused, and blow the cobwebs from a book that reads "Catechism 1250AD". Another wind from outside sends a whirl of howling notes across the moors, and then I hear the crash of a dish shattering from down the back hallway.

I am NOT alone.

"Who is there?!" I call out. "Is this the priest? I have come to make confession!"

A woman's voice calls from the hall "Nobody is here, and who are you? Announce yourself sir!"

I walk back to the place her voice comes from and she steps out of a small room. She is a young woman, no more than 19, and she wears a wedding dress. The train is in tatters, and the sleeves are fraying ribbons of lace. The bustier is clad in pearls, and a cameo around her neck dips just above her bodice. Her makeup is marred from tears she has shed, and she looks at me with remorse and anger.

"Who the FUCK are you asshole?!" she screams, curling her fists into futile little balls of hate. "Why didn't anyone tell me he would leave me?"

I told her I was a wayward traveler, looking for absolution, and the church called me from the distant road to it's bell tower. Her eyes softened, and she collapsed to the floor. I asked her what was happening to her, and she told me of the man who asked her hand in marriage. He had wooed her, romanced her, took her from her family, and led her to his home where he would marry her in the chapel he had chosen. The night before, he had told her she had to prove herself to him by surrendering her maidenhead--before he would marry her. She was terrified, but gave in to him, and after and frantic and painful 15 minutes, he dumped his load into her, fell asleep, and left her trembling and wanting more than just his seed...which now felt cold inside her. The next day, he had left her with a note on the pillow that read "You weren't enough for me to surrender my life to. Keep the wedding dress. Perhaps one day you can use it." After walking around in a daze, she went to the church, put on the dress, and went mad tearing apart anything in her wake.

Now here she sat, in shambles and aching for anything that felt real.

I took her tiny hand in mine, and helped her up from the floor. Her skin was pale, almost white. Her eyes were deep and longing for contact. Her touch was so gentle and soft, and as soon as she stood upright I fell to one knee, kissing her hand reverently. I couldn't help myself, she was so beautiful in spite of her tears.

"Please, Miss..." I said. "Don't dwell in anger...come with me. I don't have a lot, but I am so terribly alone." I told her of my travels, and how the woman I loved left for another man. I looked into her eyes, and assured her that if someone as beautiful as she could find it in her heart to marry ME, that I would care for her every need all her life.

She looked into my eyes, tears spilling over. "You, would...have me, sir?" she cried. "I'm no longer a spring flower, I'm a cut rose whose petals hang low, and fall one by one." I put a hand to her cheek, place a gentle kiss on her forehead, and lower myself to one knee. "If it would please you miss, take MY hand instead. We can marry here before the eyes of God, and journey onward to new life and love." I searched her eyes for response, and with a twinkle in them that mingled both sorrow and joy, she said "Oh, YES sir...YES!"

We knelt at the altar, and said our vows to one another. Prayers for protection, and then kissed so deeply as husband and wife I felt my feet would leave the floor. I held her in my arms, and carried her to the bridal room of the church. I placed her in the chair by the mirror, and knelt at her feet once more. By the washbasin, I found a soft cloth and dampened it. I wiped away her tears and washed her hands and gently cleaned the bottoms of her feet. I gently kissed each toe, letting her know how precious her gift to me was...the gift of HERSELF.

I stood behind her, and began to unlace her dress. With each lacing, her breath came deeper and her body relaxed more. I felt the sorrow melting from her, and when finally her dress hung loose against her frame, I lifted it gently over her, and looked into her eyes. The corset that held her frame into a perfect hourglass was so erotic to me that I was relieved to see it went no lower than her hip bones. I scooped her up and carried her to the sitting area behind her, and laid her back against one of the pillows. I lowered myself to her legs, and let my calloused hands trace her lines. I moved higher, and found her beautiful pubic mound and the little patch of dark hair that surrounded her womanhood. When I let my mouth come near her opening, she whimpered nervously "Oh please, gentle.." Her opening was so beautiful and was sure to taste so sweet and full of the unknown that I had to will myself to heed her request. I moved forward gently, letting my tongue tickle her pussy's inner lips. Her breath caught in her throat, and I felt her hips move upward. "Oh, sir...more please sir..." I lost all will to hold back now, and planted my mouth fully over her clit and let my tongue flicker across it with gentle abandon. Her wetness found my tastebuds, and I could think of no wine I had ever tasted that was so intoxicating. Her reaction was electrifying...her hands flew to the pillows behind her head, pushing one over her face as her muffled screams tore through me to the very center of my throbbing cock. I continued to lick her...taste her...suckle her...her body twisting into such an array I thought her tiny frame might snap in two. Suddenly, I let my tongue thrust deep into her opening...tasting the very source of her delicious flow. She sat bold upright, grabbed my head and held it so tight against her I could feel her insides trebling as her first orgasm EVER rocketed through her body...her taste was SO DEEP and delicious I felt my cock spasm in desire. She groaned as her orgasm slowed, and then fell limp against the bedclothes behind her.

I stood up, and looked at her, so beautiful and unkempt. Legs and arms splayed in all directions...her breath coming in gasps that left her tiny tummy rising and falling. I dropped my clothing at my feet, crept over her body, placed my lips to her neck, and whispered in her ear "The night is yours, my dear. Tomorrow we ride. What do you desire of me? Her legs rose up to circle my waist, and her hips and back arched upward as well. I felt the tiny, wet opening of her pussy caress the head of my cock, my balls were aching so deeply they were now almost at bursting! She moved her hips upward, and I felt her pussy slip over the tight the crown of my cock "popped" into her with such sensation that I felt my body lose control...I looked into her eyes, with my own passion and need PLEADING for her body to understand. She looked up at me once more, closed her eyes, and whispered in my ear.

"This girl is YOURS, FUCK ME until your eyes see no other girl BUT me.

With that, her hips SLAMMED upward so hard I felt the walls of her pussy contract against me on all sides, and my orgasm shot into her with such force that I lost consciousness. I remained there in such bliss that I drifted off...and only when the sun rose did I awaken to her voice.

We ride, sir...what would you have your girl wear as we depart? I glanced to the wedding dress, and she smiled. In a few moments, we were tearing across the countryside, her wedding dress cast to the wind, and her corseted body beneath my own cloak clung to my back as the bells of the church faded into the distance... 

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