Goddess Ch. 04

Sharon kept her eyes down, ignoring what was going past her. After a while I said 'You know, sometimes we go through huge crises and we think that everything around us has collapsed, only to find that here are new things to entice us, new places to explore, new lives to live.' She looked at me without saying a word, but her expression was asking me to please stop the platitudes. Unperturbed, I continued. 'I'm going to tell you something that nobody in this town knows about me. I'm a priest, or perhaps I should say I have been a priest for the past thirty years. Now I'm in the mist of the biggest crisis that I ever had. May faith is stumbling, I'm no longer sure of what is right, what is wrong or even what I'll be doing tomorrow.' Sharon was now looking at me with interest and I continued. 'For me, today is the first day of re-inventing my life. I don't know what's going to come out of it but, would you miss the thrill of reading a good book by looking at its ending first?' We were now on the track along the water and we could see the cabin on the point. I extended my arm and said 'That's were we are going.'

Sharon was now walking with a straight back and asked me. 'Did you do the…the…celibacy thing all those years?' I was firstly taken aback but, I gather my courage and said 'In fact, yes, until two nights ago, and that is what has thrown my life into turmoil.' I didn't look at her, but I could feel her eyes on me. We walked in silence until we reached the cabin.

I opened the door and motioned Sharon in. She looked around and said 'Wow! This is nice!' I put my backpack on the bench and said 'The bathroom is around that corner. There are towels in the built in across the corridor from the bathroom door. Have a good shower and you will feel better. While you do that I'll prepare some lunch'.

I busied myself putting the shopping away and preparing a lunch of cheese, bread and tomato. I made a fresh pot of tea while listening to the shower running in the bathroom. I was finishing setting the table when Sharon re-appeared. She was a different person. Without make up she looked not older than thirteen. She was wrapped on a towel and her hair was wet. I could see her small breasts holding the towel from falling on the top and a lot of her svelte and well-shaped legs showing bellow. With the resilience of the young she looked no longer in despair. She looked at the table and said 'I'm starving. I didn't have any food since we stopped in Kiama yesterday!' She sat down and started eating. Seeing the speed at which food was disappearing into her, I decided to cook some hard boiled eggs and open a couple of tins of sardines. Half an hour later all the food had vanished, ninety per cent into Sharon and ten per cent into myself.

I got up to wash up but she insisted in doing it herself 'You cooked, I wash. Fair is fair!' When she finished I said 'I think that the tide is coming in and I have been told that this time gives the best chance for catching some fish for dinner. Would you like to come.' She jumped at the opportunity. Within seconds she was coming back dressed in shorts, pulling a T-shirt over her head, giving me a fleeting glance of a delightful breast. 'Do you have a boat?' she asked. 'There is one outside and I even found the oars'. With a lot of huffing and puffing I managed to launch the boat into the water while Sharon looked with obvious amusement. We put the fishing gear and the bait that I had bought and I started rowing towards the middle of the water. Well, at least that was my intention. I had never been in a rowboat before and all that I seemed to manage was to go in circles that always ended on the shore. The first two times Sharon's eyes were full of laughter, when it happen for the third time the rest of her body joined in. Still laughing she said 'Come and sit where I am. Move on that side at the same time as I move forward on the other side'. I managed to move around without capsizing our passport to fish for dinner. Sharon sat and with total reassurance starting rowing in and amazingly straight line. I must have looked very surprised because she explained 'My father has a sailing boat. I started rowing the dinghy since I was six years old, so, I have been doing it for ten years!'

There was virtually no wind and the water was prevented from being a mirror only by the small ripples caused by the current coming in. In no time we were four or five hundred yards from the shore and Captain Sharon threw the rust covered anchor over the side. I took the fishing rod and stabbed a prawn on the hook. Sharon laughed again and said 'You never fished before, have you? What you do is to thread it like this.' With a dexterity that I could only envy she did it in her own line, and then on mine. I could only follow her example, so I stood in silence, trying to feel the byte at the end of the line. Soon I started thinking of anything but fishing. Camille was embracing me, the three of us were in bed together. I could feel all over again the overwhelming sensations of my penis starting to get a life of its own. There was like a shivering wave starting right between my legs and spreading through my belly, my legs and even my arms to engulf my body and my intellect into an unstoppable avalanche running without control to an exploding climax

'Get the net! Get the net! I jumped and my fishing rod almost went overboard. Sharon was recovering her line, wrapping it around her large yellow spool, inch by inch, hand over hand. I was holding the net, not quite knowing what to do with it. Without stopping reclaiming her line she said 'When I get it close to the surface get the net under the water and the fish into it. It's really big!' An enormous black bream, close to two feet long was almost on the surface 'Now!' More by good luck than skills I got the fish into the net, but I needed Sharon's help to get it on board. She opened the tackle box and with a very sure hand killed the fish with a knife. 'Let's go back to the cabin'. I didn't answer. She started rowing as if she had to win a championship.

I felt really useless. Sharon gutted and scaled the fish in a concrete table with a basin outside. All I felt qualified to do was to feed the bits to the three pelicans and six seagulls that had congregated around us as soon as we pulled the boat ashore. She was proud of what she had done. 'We have more that just a dinner here' she said with a smile. Slowly coming back to my usual self I replied 'I'm not so sure. Seeing how much you can eat…' Sharon had a very easy laugh. It was inspiring to see her throw her head back, her hair hanging loose and look at her whole body smiling. With good humor she said 'Oh well! Perhaps dinner and a midnight snack?'

The despondent Sharon of the morning was no longer there. A self-assured young woman had taken over. I was going to cook the fish but she would not let me. Almost pushing me aside se said 'If you have never fished I doubt very much that you would know how to cook a fish'. While she passed the pieces of fish through a dish with some milk and then patted some dry four onto them she said 'The secret is not to have too mush oil and whatever oil you have it has to be at the right temperature'. All it was left for me to do was to prepare a lettuce salad with a dressing made with vinegar and olive oil and set the table. The smell of frying fish was invading the whole cabin, so I went and open all the windows. A gentle afternoon breeze was blowing the smell away, replacing it with the flavour of the sea, bringing the dreams of far way places so much closer to home.

Sharon came to the table with a tray piled high with large pieces of fish. Sitting down she said 'You can never know what fish tastes like until you have tried one that has just come out of the water'. She served two pieces on a plate and passed it to me. She was in control. I passed the bowl of salad to her. We started eating and, I must admit, I had never tasted something as good as that. It was only four or five hours since we had finished our lunch, but we devoured all the fish and the salad as if we had not seen food for days.

We cleared the table together and Sharon was about to start washing up when I said 'You cooked, I wash. Fair is fair!' She laughed again and bowed to me saying 'As my French teacher would have said: "Touché"'. It really sounded to me as if she was just graciously allowing me to win that one. As I washed and she dried I said 'What are you going to do now? Will you go back to your parents?' She was thinking for a few seconds before answering, her tea towel suspended over a dish, her eyes lost in the water outside. 'No, at least not as a "virginal daughter". You have no idea of how terrible it was they trying constantly to check every move I made. I will not go back until I start having sex. I suppose that with a broken hymen they will no longer have anything to protect'. I had never encountered in my fifty-five years anyone so painfully logical, regardless of age, let alone a sixteen-year-old! 'For what you tell me' I ventured, 'your parents are not entirely bad, are they?' This time she didn't have to think 'No, they are not. I have learnt a lot from them and I love them very much. They taught me to be fiercely independent and they were proud of me until the Sean episode. What they have to understand is that it is MY body and that I am intelligent enough to know what I want and what I don't want! If I'm to be independent I demand that only myself set the limits!' There was an enormous amount of fire on her. As I rinsed the last fork I could only nod my head.

I went to the bookshelves and Sharon followed me. I picked a book at random. It was called 'The Second Sex'. I sat down and started reading the Translator's Preface. Not even three pages into it I realised that I had picked a book for which I was not quite ready. 'The central thesis of Mlle de Beauvoir's book is that, since patriarchal times women have in general been forced to occupy a secondary place in the world in relation to men, a position comparable in many respects with that of racial minorities…not imposed of necessity by natural 'feminine' characteristics but rather by strong environmental forces of education and social tradition under the purposeful control of men." [1]

I thought that the book may well have been right when it was written, but Camille did not belong to that group and, for what I could see neither did Sharon. With this thought I lifted my eyes to see what she was doing. Seating across a single armchair, her legs dangling on one side, her head turning one way while she was moving the book she had in her hands in the opposite direction she was concentrating hard. From were I was I could not see what she was reading, so I asked her. 'The Kama Sutra' was her answer. A couple of seconds later she asked me 'Have you ever read it? Boy! I don't know how they can do all that!' I had never seen the book before, so I said 'That's not the type of book that you find in a seminarist school, but I have heard of it. Some twelve years ago one of my parishioners told me about it during confession. She said that it had given her many impure thoughts'. Sharon said nothing, completely absorbed on her book. I got up and said 'I'm going to have a shower and go to sleep. Perhaps it is because of the fresh air but I'm very tired. I put your bag in the second bedroom.' Sharon, without lifting her eyes just waved and said 'Good night.' As I got into bed I could see under the door that the light in the lounge was still on. I slipped between the sheets with a sight and the shortest prayer of my life. Within seconds I was sound asleep.

I was dreaming that I was kissing Camille. I could feel her body wriggling against mine. Her hands were undoing my nightshirt, seeking my skin. Then, I opened my eyes. Camille was no where to be seen, but I could not say the same about Sharon. The door of my bedroom was open, letting in the soft light filtering from the lounge. She was completely naked and in bed with me, making an almighty effort to get me to join her in her state of total disrobing. I had spent half a century of strict celibacy and now, two different women had accosted me in two consecutive days! 'What are you doing?' Without stopping Sharon answered, 'I want you and I to have sex, and your clothing is getting in the way'.

I tried to push her aside. Laughing she literally jumped on top of me, pinning my arms down. I was very fit but she had both the energy of the young and the valor of her convictions. To my own disbelief I made it easier for her to undress me, and she took the opportunity without hesitation. We embraced and our mouths suddenly became one. She tasted of toothpaste and her skin smelled of soap. I ran my hand on her side and she sighed, pressing herself against me. I reached between her legs with my hand, thinking of how Camille had guided me, step by step in the process of giving pleasure to a woman for the first time in my life. My right middle finger found Sharon's deeply wet sex. I slowly moved it around and she moaned. Feeling bolder I pushed it about an inch in. She moaned again and I felt a strong ring tightening around my finger. I kept slowly inserting it, deeper. Sharon turned to lay on her back and stretched her legs open to give me a fuller access. I started moving down, kissing her neck, then her breasts. My tongue found her belly button and went in, seeking a new adventure. Sharon jumped, giggled and said 'It tickles!' I continued my trip down. Soon I had my nose smelling the soap in her hair and my mouth tasting the sweet flavour of her body. Suddenly, with a long low volume scream she threw herself against my mouth, hitting me hard on my nose in the process.

Sharon took my head in her hands and pulled me to move back up over her. I slid over her body, my skin caressing hers in the process. When I finally made it back up and I looked at her face I couldn't understand why she had tears in her eyes. Concerned, I said 'What's the matter? Why are you crying?' She shook her head before answering 'It was so…so…wonderful!' She then proceeded to give me a very tight hug and said 'Now… I want you to fuck me.' I was so aroused that I didn't really need any further prompting. I lifted her legs, I put my penis in the entrance of her vagina and started pushing it in without any further thought. Definitely, an experienced lover I was not! The ring that had tightened around my finger before was now at the tip of my penis. I pushed and I didn't appear to go anywhere. I pressed on, harder and still there was no giving in. Half frustrated and half-mad with lust I pushed, yet again, this time putting all the weight of my body in the effort. Sharon screamed at the top of her voice as my penis went in with such a momentum that I found my pubic area hitting hers with force. I didn't quite know what to do. As I started moving in and out, Sharon screams grew louder, but I could not stop myself. Fortunately for her, it didn't take me more that a few seconds to come. As I pulled out I could see her covered with blood and tears running freely from her eyes.

I kissed Sharon's salty weeping eyes and cuddled her. Guilt was running wild within me. I had caused her pain for my pleasure and I felt terrible. She returned my cuddle and looked at me and said 'Don't look so worried. This is what I wanted, you know? What I didn't expect is that it would hurt so much.'

That night I could hardly sleep. I though of waking up and not finding Sharon there, like it had happened with Camille. I watched Sharon sleep with and expression of peace in her face and her whole body. At one point she turned towards me and frowned, while moaning with pain. I didn't move, afraid of waking her up. Still asleep she drew closer to me, her arm holding me. I could feel the warmth emanating from her, as if she was running a fever.

I don't know when exhaustion overtook me. I only know that I woke up and Sharon was still in my arms, still holding me, but this time she was the one doing the watching. With a smile she said 'You know that you were asleep and your tongue kept poking through your lips and moving as if you were still liking me?' I smiled back and asked her 'How do you feel?' Without hesitation she answered 'Right now I feel very sore and very much needing a shower'. She started to get out of the bed and, as she moved she half-screamed 'Aouch!' I jumped off my side and run to hers to help her. With great care she grabbed my hand to help herself stand up with great deal of difficulty. She took one step towards the bathroom and said 'I cannot move without hurting! Is that normal?' I was as much of a gynecological expert as I was an expert lover, so I could only truthfully say 'I don't know. Do you think that you need to see a doctor?' She looked straight to me and said 'I don't know.' Then, in spite of her pains she laughed and added 'We are not all that well informed, are we?'

I got into the shower with Sharon and very gently started washing her neck, then her breasts. I was looking at her eyes and hers were locked into mine. I got to my knees and started washing the dried blood from her legs. She stood with her legs apart. I moved my hands up and as I touched her between her legs she screamed. I dropped to soap and said 'I think that it will be easier if you wash that part yourself.' She took the soap from my hands and started washing herself with jittery hands. She was in pain and the tears in her eyes could not be mistaken for water from the shower.

I washed myself as fast as I could and stepped out of the shower. I dried myself and hurried into Sharon's room. I found a towel gown and took it to the bathroom. As I walked in she was stepping out of the shower. She was a glorious sight! Her glistening body standing in the middle of the bathroom, a drop of water hanging from her left nipple, as if refusing to leave her behind, more drops streaming between her breasts in a long, sensual wet caress. I was paralised with wonderment. Sharon saw it and liked the effect the she was having on me. She remained motionless for a long while, letting me take it all in and then, with a very soft voice, almost in a whisper designed to keep the spell going she said 'Would you like to dry me now?' I moved as if the ground did not exist. I felt like if I was suspended in mid air, a weightless astronaut in an inter-galactic flight to nowhere.

I dried Sharon with a greater care than I would have used to treat the most precious porcelain piece ever made. I moved around her capturing one by one each drop of water adorning her skin. I didn't rub the towel on her, I caressed her with it. When I finished with her feet I stood up again, still silent, still mesmerized by her. We faced each other, both naked, just one foot away. She lifted her arms, linking her hands behind my neck and pushed me to rest against her. She looked at me and only said 'Thank you'. I gave her then a kiss that I wanted to last forever.