Priest's Housekeeper: Part 4

I followed the rule the next morning.

No underwear. No bra. I put on a simple cotton dress that fell to my knees, the kind I usually wore for cleaning, and nothing else. The fabric moved against my bare tits and settled between my thighs with every step down the stairs. Cool air from the hallway brushed my cunt. By the time I reached the kitchen my nipples had already tightened against the thin cloth.

Father Tobias was at the table with coffee and the parish bulletin. He looked up when I entered. His eyes moved over the dress once—across the soft drape over my chest, the way the skirt shifted against bare legs—and a quiet recognition settled in his expression.

“Good,” was all he said.

I started the day’s work.

Dusting the front rooms. Sweeping the hall. Changing the linens in the rarely used guest room. Every task felt different without the usual layers. When I stretched to reach a high shelf the dress lifted along my thighs. When I bent to wipe a baseboard the fabric pulled tight across my ass and left me exposed underneath. I kept expecting the awareness to fade. It didn’t. My cunt stayed slick from the simple knowledge that he could check at any moment and find me bare.

He checked mid-morning.

I was in the laundry room folding towels when he appeared in the doorway. Without a word he stepped close, took the hem of my dress, and lifted it to my waist. Cool air hit my wet skin. He looked at my bare cunt for a long moment, then let the fabric fall again.

“Keep going,” he said. “I’ll want you later.”

The rest of the day passed in the same heightened state. I cooked a simple lunch and ate it standing while he took a call in his office. I washed the floor in the front hall on my hands and knees, the dress tenting around my body, and felt his eyes on me from the stairs for a full minute before he continued up. By late afternoon the constant bare friction and the low thrum of anticipation had me so wet that the inner thighs of my dress clung damply to my skin.

Evening came.

Father Tobias locked the rectory doors at the usual hour, turned off the main lights, and found me in the kitchen finishing the last of the dishes. He didn’t speak. He simply took my wrist and led me into the small living room at the front of the house. The curtains were already drawn. He sat in the heavy armchair near the window and looked up at me.

“Dress off.”

I pulled it over my head and let it drop. The air in the room touched every inch of my skin. My nipples were tight. My cunt was swollen and slick from a full day of enforced bareness. Father Tobias opened his black trousers and freed his cock—already hard, the head wet at the tip. He stroked it once while he watched me.

“Come here. Knees.”

I knelt between his spread thighs. He guided the head of his dick to my mouth and I opened for him. The taste of his skin and the clean soap he used filled my senses as I took him deeper. He rested one hand in my hair, not forcing, only steadying, while I worked my mouth along his cock. The wet sounds of it filled the quiet room. My own need throbbed between my legs, untouched since the night on the altar.

After a few minutes he lifted me by the arms, turned me, and pulled me down onto his lap so my back rested against his chest. His cock slid into my cunt in one smooth thrust. A broken sound left my throat. He was thick and deep like this, filling me completely while his hands came around to cup my tits and pinch the nipples.

“You spent the whole day bare for me,” he said against the side of my neck. “Every room. Every chore. Knowing I could lift your dress and find you wet.”

“Yes.”

He fucked up into me in short, powerful strokes. One hand stayed on my tit. The other slid down my stomach and found my clit, rubbing in tight circles while his dick moved inside me. The dual sensation built fast after the long day of denial and exposure. My head dropped back against his shoulder. The chair creaked under the force of his thrusts.

“Come,” he said.

The word broke me. Pleasure rolled through my body in hard waves. My cunt clamped around his cock as I shook in his lap, a raw cry escaping into the quiet rectory. He kept thrusting through it, dragging the orgasm out until I was trembling and oversensitive. Only then did he grip my hips, drive deep, and come with a low sound against my neck, flooding me in thick pulses that I felt with every heartbeat.

We stayed joined while the house settled around us. His hands stroked slowly over my bare stomach and the undersides of my tits. When he finally eased me off his lap, his come slid down my thighs and onto the chair. He looked at the mess with quiet satisfaction.

“Same rule tomorrow,” he said. “Nothing under your clothes while you work. I’ll check when I want. And when the day ends, you’ll come to me the same way you did tonight.”

I nodded, still catching my breath.

Father Tobias fixed his trousers and stood. He picked up my discarded dress and handed it to me.

“Go to bed, Lena. Morning Mass is early.”

I pulled the dress back over my head. The fabric settled against sticky skin and the residual throb of his cock. At the stairs I paused and looked back. He was already turning off the last lamp, the white collar still absent from his open shirt, the ordinary duties of the rectory waiting for both of us at dawn.

I climbed the stairs bare underneath the dress, his come still warm between my thighs, and already knew that every chore from this day forward would carry the same quiet, constant reminder.

Nothing underneath.

And the priest who had given the order would be there at the end of each day to take what the rule had kept ready for him.