Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden

PROLOGUE “ Good, by Jesus ! ” cried the Countess, as, with her fat arse poised warily over the ascetic face of the Archbishop, she lolloped a great gob of greasy spend from the throat of her bulging cunt into the gaping mouth of the half-choked ecclesiastic. “ It is well, my daughter, if thou art pleased,” he replied, when he had swallowed the cachet of her emotions. “ But my venerable pudendum asks at- tention.” “ It shall have it, father ! ” said the lady, and forthwith she caught his purple-knobbed pillar in her hands, and violently rubbed it in a direction perpendicular to its length, increasing both pace and pressure as the excitement of the gentleman grew more intense. But in spite of all she could do he soon ejected a small but stringy morsel of veri- table sperm, which she deftly caught in her left nostril, and sniffed up, with the relish of an old buck of the Regency helping himself to snuff. The tongue of the Archbishop had not been idle during this time ; but the thoughts of his see ever interfered with his more spiritual duties, and he waxed remiss. The Countess, sensible of the neglect, and ac- cepting the same as a slight to her admittedly pox- eaten charms, blew off a fiery fart in his face as a slight mark of her displeasure. It failed of its effect : on the contrary the wor- thy man experienced so powerful a stimulus to his erotic fancies that his shrunk penis flew violently into the air and caught the unsuspecting Countess on the point of the jaw, completely stunning her. [17]