slinkymel's blog / Bashing the Bishop

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7:23 Bashing the Bishop

Hi

Zahra and me just got a few hours in a nice hotel room together – paid for by someone else! She stirs in my arms, her black hair cascading across the pillow, mocca flesh contrasting with the white sheets. I whisper:

“Ahibbik!” Now Arabic is a rich, sensual language, so I’ve just said ‘I love you’ but in the feminine way. If she was a guy I’d have said; ‘ahibbak’.

“Ahibbik kamaan!” She murmurs – ‘I love you too.’

“Ahibbik Thalaata!” She opens her eyes: “Aysh?” What? Then her rosebud lips spread into a grin exposing tiny white teeth. I’ve said ‘I love you three’ which is sorta romantic in English but so totally doesn’t translate into Arabic. I’m pleased she gets the joke as it shows she is switching easily between languages. It wasn’t always like that, when she first came to our town she was a frightened, timid waif struggling to come to terms with her own sexuality and her parents’ rejection. She hardly spoke any English so I helped her, and she taught me Arabic. I call her “Hiloo” – which means ‘sweet’ – she calls me “Arnab” – which the astronomers amongst you will know - is the brightest star in the constellation Lepus…it’s also Arabic for ‘rabbit’!!!

She sits up and grins at me: “I think we have good time last night – yes?” Oh yes indeed! It all started, as do quite a few of my evenings, with Lou and her ‘Escort Agency’. Lou has a pretty mean drag act - but it doesn’t bring in enough to pay the bills - so she runs a very exclusive tranny escort agency – the sort that’s only advertised by word of mouth. Stas works for her - when the lazy cow can be bothered to get out of bed - Zahra does some work to help pay for her schooling – and I just do it for a laugh!

Well there’s one guy who always insists on Zahra and I, and so we go to the hotel to meet him. This isn’t our usual fleapit but a nice hotel – with clean sheets and towels in the bathroom! We go up to the room, take off our long coats, and knock respectfully on the door. At this point I should point out that we are wearing white blouses tied under our boobs and short grey pleated skirts, white frilly ankle socks and black platform shoes. Our hair is tied up in bunches and I have freckles drawn across my cheeks. We hear the word “Enter!” and open the door.

The Bishop is standing by the bed in long black robes, purple silk shirt and white dog collar. He has a Bible in one hand and fingers the silver cross around his neck with the other. He is in his early sixties with grey hair, glasses and a kindly face. He really is a Bishop ‘cos I looked him on some ecclesiastical website. He greets us:

“Come in my children – don’t be afraid!”

We go in and stand coyly in front of him. I turn one leg in and stand looking as if I’m nervous, while Zahra sucks on a lollipop and stands a little behind me. He puts the Bible on a table and holds out his hands. “Come here my children.” We go to him and he looks at us: “How old are you both?” Zahra whispers: ”Sixteen, sir!” Then I say: “Seventeen sir!”……..Now Zahra’s 28 and could easily pass for sixteen but I’m twice seventeen and a bit more and have been around the block a few times – but the irony seems lost on him. He moves to the bed and tells us to sit with him. We sit, one on each knee, and he asks: “Have you been good girls?” We shake our heads…” How?”

Zahra and I lean across and kiss each other lightly on the lips – our lip gloss binds us together for a fleeting moment and it’s like a charge fizzes between us. She is so hot! I look into her huge brown eyes and my heart flips and I kiss her again. This isn’t in the usual script but I can’t help myself. However, the sight of us tonguing each other, inches from his face seems to take the Bishop’s mind off the spanking we usually receive and he just sits there with his glasses slowly fogging. It’s a merciful relief as my ass is so sore from the beating I got from the last freak a few days ago. In fact, I think I’d have probably passed out if it was the usual routine. Anyway, our tongues are wrestling and our hands grope each other’s boobs before caressing our bare tummies. Then they move still lower and four hands disappear up two little grey skirts. He must surely be able to feel two cocks hardening against his thighs as we squirm against him, never breaking contact from that glorious lingering kiss. Finally I break the spell as I remember this is supposed to be a contract and I don’t want to piss Lou off. Much to Zahra’s annoyance I release her and we gently help the Bishop onto his back. We lay on either side of him with our shoes by the sides of his head and I roll his robe up and unbutton his trousers.

The Bishop’s undoubted pure thoughts have been betrayed by one part of his body as his erect cock comes tumbling out like a pink Cyclops looking for its prey. However, its reign of terror is short-lived as Zahra places her dark plum lips over it and smothers it. We take it in turns , sucking on his hard cock and taking his balls right into our mouths. We snog each other, our lips seeming to bend around his tip until our mouths and his cock meld together. All the time he is chanting softly in Latin, Deus meus, ex toto corde poenitet me omnium meorum peccatorum …his eyes flicking between our shoes and the action around his groin. Eventually, I leave Zahra to keep him occupied as I hitch up my skirt and carefully push my panties to one side. Then she removes her lips and I lower myself onto his well-lubricated cock in one fluid movement. This is new to the scenario and his eyes widen - yet he does not move to resist - only to grip the silver crucifix and chant, with renewed vigour.

Zahra can read me so well – she kneels behind me with her hands over the front of my knickers, stroking me through the silky material – hiding the telltale bulge of my own arousal - as I bring the Bishop closer to his climax. His head swells inside me and I release him and flop to the side as Zahra takes his throbbing cock. Deftly, she strokes his shaft, well lubricated by my juices, and brings him to a climax. Hot cum jets over our faces and into our open mouths as Zahra holds him like a hose as he squirts his load over us. There is so much that I have absolutely no doubt that he has not had an orgasm since the last time we did this to him…and that was nearly a year ago! We don’t want to mess him up so we dutifully lick the cum from each other before Zahra cleans his purple tip and tucks his deflating cock back into his trousers. We sit close together and look coy as he slides off the bed. He looks down at us and says:

“You poor girls…I will pray for you!”

With that he leaves the room. He has not touched us with his hands at any point. Zahra waits for a few moments then collapse into fits of giggles. ‘Pray for us?’ I know we are both going to…” She searches for the word and gives up – she knows I’ll understand…”Jarhannum” ‘Hell’, she says. “It’s him who need help from above! We laugh and wonder whether he realises we are trannies or not ‘cos we know he has never caught a glimpse of cock. Does he even care for that matter? I check the Bible on the table. As usual, it has £600 inside it. As usual the page has a section lightly ringed in pencil. As usual I’m expecting Deuteronomy 22:5 Neither shall a man put on a woman’s garment: For all that do so are an abomination unto the Lord their God. However, this time it is Jeremiah 4:30:

Although you dress in scarlet, Although you decorate yourself with ornaments of gold, Although you enlarge your eyes with paint, In vain you make yourself beautiful. Your lovers despise you; They seek your life.

Fuck! Wish I hadn’t read that!

Zahra and I have talked about this a lot, it doesn’t seem right to take his money. Lou takes her £200 cut – sorry ‘placement fee’ leaving the rest for us. Zahra really needs the cash but, like me, she can’t bring herself to keep it. First thing this morning, after we leave the hotel, we take it and drop it off in the collection boxes of the nearest church…and the mosque. As for the Bible – it’s not something I read much – but it don’t seem right to just leave it in the room. I take it home – to join the other five I already have! I chuckle to myself at what happened just before we left the room. Zahra glances across at the Bible and then to me. She forms the words carefully:

“Arnab! I believe that you have been laid in more hotel rooms than the Gideon Bible!”

She looks pleased with herself and I wonder whether she really gets the joke. I think Lou put her up to it, as usual…but it’s no less funny for that!




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