Podcasts about Skegness

Morse code transcription: vvv vvv Alan Yentob BBC arts broadcaster dies aged 78 Bodies of five skiers found near Switzerlands Zermatt resort Rate rigging traders say they were scapegoated now the Supreme Court will decide Man, 60, dies attempting to help children in sea near Skegness Newspaper headlines Winter fuel in total chaos, and Ukraine fury at US EU needs until 9 July for US trade talks, chief says Brent fire Names of four people who died released by police BBC returns to Gaza baby left hungry by Israeli blockade Iran summons French envoy in diplomatic row over insulting Cannes remarks Toilet rules create anxiety over periods, say school pupils

Morse code transcription: vvv vvv Toilet rules create anxiety over periods, say school pupils EU needs until 9 July for US trade talks, chief says Bodies of five skiers found near Switzerlands Zermatt resort Newspaper headlines Winter fuel in total chaos, and Ukraine fury at US Brent fire Names of four people who died released by police Rate rigging traders say they were scapegoated now the Supreme Court will decide Iran summons French envoy in diplomatic row over insulting Cannes remarks BBC returns to Gaza baby left hungry by Israeli blockade Alan Yentob BBC arts broadcaster dies aged 78 Man, 60, dies attempting to help children in sea near Skegness

Morse code transcription: vvv vvv Man, 60, dies attempting to help children in sea near Skegness Toilet rules create anxiety over periods, say school pupils Alan Yentob BBC arts broadcaster dies aged 78 Iran summons French envoy in diplomatic row over insulting Cannes remarks Bodies of five skiers found near Switzerlands Zermatt resort EU needs until 9 July for US trade talks, chief says Newspaper headlines Winter fuel in total chaos, and Ukraine fury at US Rate rigging traders say they were scapegoated now the Supreme Court will decide Brent fire Names of four people who died released by police BBC returns to Gaza baby left hungry by Israeli blockade

Morse code transcription: vvv vvv BBC returns to Gaza baby left hungry by Israeli blockade Brent fire Names of four people who died released by police Alan Yentob BBC arts broadcaster dies aged 78 Man, 60, dies attempting to help children in sea near Skegness Rate rigging traders say they were scapegoated now the Supreme Court will decide EU needs until 9 July for US trade talks, chief says Toilet rules create anxiety over periods, say school pupils Iran summons French envoy in diplomatic row over insulting Cannes remarks Newspaper headlines Winter fuel in total chaos, and Ukraine fury at US Bodies of five skiers found near Switzerlands Zermatt resort

I am not really sure how to describe this episode of TCD (...sorry, Lucy). If it helps to set the scene then you might want to consider the following;I am/was in Montreal at the time of recording, and Ant was ensconced in his villains lair, in Heckmondwike. The wi-fi was more than a bit iffy, in fact for the first five minutes so it was looking like a bit of a non-starter.I hadn't put much thought into the rest of my week, and Ant hadn't really put much thought into anything other than questions about my week.I guess what I am trying to say is that there are undoubtedly a couple of nuggets in #232, but you are going to have to go digging.Love'n'essencehP.S Ant now informs me it was Skegness, rather than Scarborough. But it definitely was a thing in the 80'sP.P.S I did giggle a lot as I was editing it...TCD Merch StoreBecome Purple and support the showThe Invisible Man Volume 1: 1991-1997The Invisible Man Volume2: 1998-2014FacebookInstagramWebsite

Pippa Crerar assesses the latest developments at Westminster.The Chancellor Rachel Reeves unveiled her Spring Statement this week and Pippa takes a closer look at the details with the chair of the Treasury Select Committee, Labour's Dame Meg Hillier and the Conservative frontbencher and former Treasury minister, Dame Harriett Baldwin.Also this week, Keir Starmer travelled to Paris for the latest meeting of the ‘coalition of the willing'. Labour's Dame Emily Thornberry, who chairs the Foreign Affairs select committee discusses this with the Liberal Democrat MP Mike Martin, a former British army officer who served multiple tours in Afghanistan. Reform UK's deputy leader, Richard Tice, who represents Boston and Skegness and Times columnist Fraser Nelson discuss the party's coming electoral test in the local elections. And, following comments by the technology secretary Peter Kyle that the UK will see its first ever space launch this year, Pippa speaks to the physicist and broadcaster Professor Brian Cox about the benefits of space exploration.

Thank you for downloading episode 59 of our podcast!!  Mr & Mrs G return with a fun episode, bulging with more content than Mrs's G's bra!!They talk through their group trip weekend at Butlins Adult Weekender, at a new location in Skegness!! They talk about the 'CCC', (COCKtail Caravan Clamber) incredibly involving spanking benches and queening chairs!!! The weekend also inspires a chat about initiating kissing, moving it on to more, and also how to deal with the fear of rejection; probably a great chat for anyone new to lifestyle.A very sexy evening leading to an anal adventure, and the after effects the next day!! Mrs G's growing kink interests, and also how for some couples, is swinging actually best left as a fantasy rather than a reality.Another entertaining episode to hopefully spark your own discussions or thoughts, with their usual lighthearted and fun chat, this is an honest and open account of where they are in their journey into the lifestyle.  You'll feel like you're sat in a hotel bar with long term friends having a sexy discussion!    Contact us at:    Email: '⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠hello@sexlessswingers.co.uk⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠'    X / Twitter: '@sexlessswingers'    FabSwingers - 'The_Sexless_Swingers'    SwingHub - 'TheSexlessSwingersUK' SwingHub Community Page - 'TheSexlessSwingersPodcast'Please note, explicit adult theme of a sexual nature are discussed and this podcast is for 18+ only.    Credit for mentions (please note, ALL products/events discussed on the podcast are purchased at the full advertised price, and so any reviews are fully honest, independent and authentic):    ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Intro and exit music via Pixabay - Track: Summer Trip with a Guitar - Artist: Sweet KR 

It's Thursday and you know what that means....The hangover is real as the boys (minus Matt) and Lou recover from a raucous weekender in Skegness. We talk a bit about our week in running before heading straight into the main event, a chat with the awesome Kirsty BeckKirsty talks openly and honestly about her weight loss journey and how she was able to channel grief into positivity and achieve amazing running feats. Plus its a Parkrun double, as Ben and Emma ran separately this week, and we have a Parkrun cup update from the first week of the round of 16Remember you can join our Fartlek Family at any time, be part of our 100+ strong community of amazing people, organising meet ups, catch ups and general nonsense all year roundSubscribe, rate, review and checkout our social media channels:Website: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠What The Fartlek Podcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@Whatthefartlek_Podcast ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Facebook: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠What The Fartlek Podcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Twitter: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@WhatTheFartlek ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠YouTube: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠What The Fartlek Podcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Email us at - whatthefartlekpodcast@gmail.comMusic by: Graham LindleyFollow on: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube Email at: g.lindley@hotmail.co.uk

Payman chats with three dental professionals from mydentist—Claire Stenhouse, Parin Shah, and Alyssia Willis—each offering a unique perspective on working within a corporate dental environment. Claire shares how she expanded her role as a hygiene therapist into whitening and restorative procedures, while Parin reflects on her journey from owning a practice in India to adapting to the UK system. Alyssia discusses her transition from dental nursing to therapy and the opportunities available within corporate dentistry. The discussion covers corporate autonomy, misconceptions about working in a large organisation, handling patient complaints, career growth, and the evolving role of therapists. The trio also discuss clinical mistakes, managing work-life balance, and their thoughts on the future of corporate dentistry.In This Episode00:01:00 - Introduction to corporate dentistry00:12:30 - Expanding hygiene therapist roles00:25:10 - Parin's move from India00:37:45 - Balancing NHS and private00:48:30 - Blackbox thinking: Clinical mistakes01:00:15 - Handling difficult patients01:12:50 - Corporate dentistry evolution01:25:20 - Private vs corporate careers01:38:15 - Career impact and legacy01:50:30 - Fantasy dinner party guestsAbout Claire Stenhouse, Parin Shah & Alyssia WillisClaire Stenhouse is a hygiene therapist at mydentist in Skegness, where she has expanded her role beyond hygiene to include whitening and restorative treatments.Parin Shah is a dentist who originally ran her own practice in India before moving to the UK. She shares insights on adapting to a new healthcare system and working within corporate dentistry.Alyssia Willis transitioned from dental nursing to therapy, demonstrating the career growth opportunities within mydentist. She is passionate about expanding the therapist's role and mentoring others in the field.

Jenna helps a nervous choirmaster. Based on a post by Blacksheep, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Reverend Simon Morris scanned through a long list of church notices. Holy Week was such a busy time for the parish vicar, and he still hadn't finished his special sermon ready for Easter Sunday. "Palm Sunday was really well-attended," he said, typing something on his laptop. "Now there are one or two church notices I need to read through." His wife Jenna walked into the living room. "Oh before I forget, Simon, Judith Anderson from the Sunday School had a word with me after the service. She wishes it to be known that her grandson Kyle is trans, and now wants to be known as Ellie. John Pollard from the Men's Society has split up from his wife and wishes for her name to be removed from the church hall coffee rotation, too." "Ah, right, thanks. I'd better make a note of that. Are Gordon and Myah up to speed on the Maundy Thursday service's music? I know he normally does a choir and organ practice then, but;" "Already emailed them, Simon," Jenna replied. "Relax. Everything is under control." "Choir practice for you tonight? I must say, I think it was a genius idea of Gordon's to combine our church's choir with the Guild Voices, just for our Easter service. Our choir is small, so it'll be nice to have a bigger group of singers for the holiest day in our Christian calendar." "Oh yes, the bigger the better," Jenna replied with a smirk. She'd just joined the Guild Voices, a mixed-voice choir of around twenty-five singers who performed several concerts a year. The choir was formed with the aim of singing the whole range of music both accompanied and acapella; both religious and secular, from the renaissance pieces of Byrd and Tallis to great oratorios such as Handel's "Messiah." In addition to traditional works, they also performed classical versions of popular music. Jenna was enjoying the weekly recitals, and not just because of the music. The choirmaster was a chap called Derek Blackledge, and on more than one occasion, Jenna had noticed him staring at her. "Last year, the Guild Voices performed at Evensong at York Minster," Reverend Morris said. "Gosh, I'm so looking forward to our Easter Sunday Service! We'll definitely have a bigger congregation than St. Peter's;" "Ooh, do I sense a rivalry between churches, Simon?" "Well, a bit unChristian of me to say, but I can't stand that Reverend Conway. He completely blanked me at annual clergy conference last month. I don't know what his problem is." "Not all vicars are as wonderful as you, my love." He smiled and resumed typing. "They've just got a new organist there too. Conway was raving about him. Younger bloke, seems to have the women of St. Peter's all hot and bothered. Edward, I think his name is." "Ha, he won't be anywhere near as good as Gordon is," Jenna said. "Nobody plays organ as good as he does." "I don't think it's his playing they're interested in! Apparently he resembles the actor Robert Pattinson. I suppose that's one way to get more younger people attending church services." Jenna almost dropped the cup of coffee she was holding. "Fancy that." She stifled a gasp. I can't believe it. That was the organist who played for the King at Liverpool Cathedral last year! She thought. He was a cutie for sure; had a nice cock too, as I recall. Small world. Never imagined he'd end up here in our town. The Guild Voices choir practices took place every Wednesday evening in a function room at the town hall. The room was spacious and blessed with good acoustics, a piano and a box organ. Jenna arrived earlier than normal, and gathered up her music books off the car's passenger seat. "Hope none of the others are there yet," she smiled to herself. Derek Blackledge was alone in the function room, adjusting a music stand. He was a tall, stocky man, around sixty years of age. He was wearing a pale blue open-necked shirt, black trousers and rimless glasses. His buzz-cut silver hair was balding. He had a round face and a wide, flat nose, which as Jenna had overheard another member of the choir unkindly say, "made him look like he'd been bashed in the face with a frying pan." That wasn't strictly true, and Jenna didn't think him that bad looking at all. He spoke in a clipped, staccato sort of way. Derek looked up as Jenna entered the room. In the four weeks she'd been a member of the Guild Voices, the stunning redhead had certainly livened up the group of mostly boomer-age singers. Jenna was one of the most beautiful and charming women he had ever met, and he couldn't understand what she saw in her husband, the much-older Reverend Morris. The good vicar was a kind and decent chap, but seemed duller than Skegness in January. "Uh; evening Jenna! You're very early! I was just;" "Hello Derek. Yes, didn't realize just how early I was!" "Nothing wrong with that. I admire your dedication. Would you like a brew?" He walked over to a small table in the corner of the room where there was a coffee machine and a kettle. "Yes please. Tea. White, no sugar." He made some more idle chatter whilst he waited for the kettle to boil. Glancing round, he noticed she'd seated herself on a chair and crossed her legs. The black dress she was wearing was quite short and had ridden up nicely, exposing a generous amount of thigh. A most welcome sight for the long-divorced choirmaster who'd had zero success in the world of dating since going back on the market. "This our last rehearsal before Easter Sunday," Derek prattled, pouring the hot water into a mug. "It just seems to have crept up all at once. I'm looking forward to performing in St Michael's Church, with your choir. I hear your organist is very good." "Oh Gordon? Yes he's brilliant. He won't let you down." "Great to hear. Now I just need to ensure that the Guild doesn't let everyone down." Looking at the stocky choirmaster whom possessed a definite lack of confidence, Jenna realized that she would have to take control of the situation if the choir was going to put on their best performance on Easter Sunday. She had always been aware of Derek's interest in her physical attributes. In fact, she could see his eyes lingering on her breasts and her bare legs crossed in front of her. Perhaps it was now time to play her trump card. "I know we've had a few setbacks." "Setbacks? Do you know how much George and Alice being off sick is going to set us back? George is the best tenor we have." He handed her the mug of tea and sat opposite her. "Perhaps I could do something to make things better." Jenna slowly uncrossed her legs and recrossed them, allowing her skirt to hike up her thigh watching Derek as his eyes were glued to her legs, straining to see up higher. He swallowed heavily as he shifted in his chair. "Oh? Like what?" "I could help relieve some of your pressure," she replied as she glanced at his crotch. The bulge tenting his black trousers already broadcasting his state of arousal. Jenna stood up and walked over to him. "You're a wonderful choirmaster, Derek. I just want you to know that. You go the extra mile and know how to bring out the best in people." "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he mumbled, turning red. He swallowed, feeling his erection straining against his trousers and underpants. It had been quite some time since a woman had got him worked up like this. "Music really does bring people together," she continued. "Yes, indeed it does;" Jenna leaned forward so that her face was close to his and placed her right hand on Derek's groin and squeezed. The choirmaster's voice shot up several octaves, then he let out a groan. "Jah, Jenna; what are you doing?" "Just inspecting your crotchets and quavers, Derek." she added naughtily. "Oh, feels like you've got a bassoon in your pants!" Before he could protest, she knelt and unzipped his black trousers, revealing his underwear - y-fronts, which had a musical notes pattern on them. "Nice!" Jenna said out loud. She'd always had a fondness for men who wore y-fronts. She pulled them down, freeing his delightfully large cock. Grasping the base of the shaft, she took the bulbous head in her mouth and started to move up and down taking him deeper and deeper. Derek gasped, unable to speak. Instinctively, he grabbed the back of her head and pushed down, forcing himself deeper until he felt her lips around the base of his shaft. Holding her head, he pumped his engorged organ deep into the mouth of the vicar's wife, scarcely believing that his private fantasy was coming true. Her warm soft mouth aroused him further as he felt the blood pumping into his groin, making him harder than he could remember. He leaned back and enjoyed the incredible sensations as Jenna sucked his manhood. She was good, very good. Her husband may not have been very interesting, but bloody hell, he was a lucky bastard! Derek glanced warily at the conference room's door. At any moment, other members of the choir could come in. How the hell would he be able to explain himself? "Oh, Mrs. Morris here was just helping me with a very hard; piece of music!" As the stunning redhead continued to bob up and down in his lap, he leaned over and pulled down the top of her knit black dress to expose her pert breasts. "Oh;" he sighed. "Not just; blessed with a fine voice." Jenna glanced up at him and winked. "How about; I try and hit the high notes?" Derek pulled out of her mouth, stood up and turned her so that her arse was bent over his chair. He pushed his trousers and y-fronts down to his ankles. After jerking down her knickers he moved behind her, flipped up her black dress, lined himself up, then thrust abruptly into her tight wet tunnel, burying himself to the hilt. "Oh God Derek, your musical instrument feels amazing!" He chuckled at this, and relished the fantastic feeling as he grasped her hips and slowly moved in and out of her hot passage, slick with her arousal. The illicit nature of the situation and doing it in a public place where they could be easily discovered added to the thrill and made both of them even more aroused. Jenna's nerves were hypersensitive and as the choirmaster plunged into her again and again she could feel the waves of pleasure build quickly. Derek slid his hands forward to cup her hanging breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples. He delighted in feeling the curved contour of the soft skin of her breasts in his hands as he pounded his rock-hard shaft into her. The pressure built quickly in his balls with the fantastic feeling of Jenna's tight vaginal walls clamped around his cock. It had been too long since he had really enjoyed such a sensuous treat and all too quickly he felt the pressure come to a head. He slammed his throbbing member as deep as he could and felt himself erupt as spurt after spurt of cum shot deep into his target. Jenna felt Derek tense and his final thrusts pushed her over the edge and she too felt waves of pleasure course through her body as she was wracked with the spasms of her orgasm. "Hmm! Oh Derek! Feels so good!" "Fuck; I needed that!" He sighed, slowly withdrawing and collapsing in the chair, pulling Jenna down on top of him. "Not sure if I have the energy to conduct a choir practice now!" "Well you'll just have to try your best, Derek. Because I have a feeling others will be arriving soon, so you'd better get your baton out." "It's already out," he replied, taking a tissue from the box and wiping then stroking his softening cock, and pulling his underpants and trousers up. "Jenna that was; that was; lovely." "Awe, you seem so much happier now, Derek. You're a really brilliant choirmaster." She flung her arms around him and kissed him. "And you; are a very dedicated member of the choir!" He stammered. "Um, well, I guess I'd better; compose myself!" He stood up and hurriedly fastened his belt. Jenna straightened her dress and pulled her knickers up. Just as Derek was zipping up the fly of his trousers, the door opened and Edna and Lawrence Draper, two members of the choir, came rushing in, as fast as they could, given that both had arthritic hips. "Not too late are we Derek?" Edna said. "Only our bus was late." "Uh, not at all, plenty of time. Please, help yourselves to a hot drink whilst I get organized." Derek said. Seconds later, more people filed into the room. "What piece of music have you and Derek been working on?" Lawrence asked Jenna, as he sat next to her. "Oh; just some scales and arpeggios," came her reply. "We were going up and down quite a lot!" Bare feet thrill the vicar during Maundy Thursday. "Brothers and Sisters. Today is Maundy Thursday, the fifth day of Holy Week. It gets its name from the Latin word 'mandare', from which we get the word 'command'. Christians remember Jesus' command: "Love one another as I have loved you." Though each of the days leading up to Easter Sunday are significant in their own ways, Maundy Thursday surrounds the events that led directly to Jesus' betrayal, arrest, and ultimately, His being put to death the next day on Good Friday." Reverend Morris continued. "The circumstances surrounding Maundy Thursday can be read in Matthew 26:17-75. The events that unfolded include the Last Supper that Jesus had with His disciples and betrayal of Jesus by Judas." The weather had become more spring-like and milder, which was a blessing to some of the older members of the congregation. March had blown in like a lion and was going out like a lamb. St Michael's church was often chilly and draughty during the winter months, even with the heating on. Today, it was pleasantly warm, helped in part due to the church being full for once. At the organ, Myah slipped her feet out of her shoes, ready to play a hymn before the start of the foot washing service. She rather liked the feel of the organ's pedalboard against her bare skin, and her feet felt hot and uncomfortable today. Earlier, she'd suffered cramp in the arch of her left foot. She reclined slightly on the stool, crossed her legs and idly flexed her toes as the vicar continued with his sermon. Gordon sat on a small bench behind her, admiring her shapely calves. He liked the way she raised her legs to slide onto the organ stool. Even more, he loved it when those legs were wrapped around him; something he was looking forward to later. "Their time spent on the Mount of Olives, where Jesus prayed earnestly in the Garden of Gethsemane, and where He was ultimately betrayed with a kiss by Judas who came to seize Him with the temple guards. Peter's denial of Jesus;" Up in the pulpit, Reverend Morris glanced to his right and became more and more fixated on a certain something. One of his long-repressed kinks was rising to the surface at the most inappropriate of times. Women's feet, younger women's feet in particular, had always aroused him. He'd never told anyone about his foot fetish, not even Jenna. He'd never had such a reaction as this and certainly not during a church service. But the way his wife's cousin kept wiggling her toes like that, dear Lord, it was driving his imagination to commit all kinds of sin! It's Holy Week for heaven's sake; must fight this, he told himself. "On the first day of the Festival of Unleavened Bread, the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Where do you want us to make preparations for you to eat the Passover?" The vicar's voice trembled slightly, as he struggled to remain composed. Abruptly, he noticed Myah wince and reach for her foot. The cramp had returned. "What's wrong?" Gordon whispered. "Damn cramp's back again," she replied. "Ah, it's agony! Can you play the hymn for me?" "No problem," he said, as his girlfriend hobbled off the stool and sat on the bench. "Massage your foot slowly. Try putting it on the cold stone floor. That might help. I've gotten cramp loads of times in the past when playing. It's bloody torture!" "Thanks, Gordy-Pie!" Poor Myah, Reverend Morris thought. Now he had an even better view of her bare feet. Such slim and elegant feet. So nimble against the organ's pedalboard. He took a deep breath as he imagined he was cupping the arch of her foot, his hand slotted in the tender space between the heel and the upper sole. After an awkward pause, he continued his sermon. "He replied, "Go into the city to a certain man and tell him, 'The Teacher says: My appointed time is near. I am going to celebrate the Passover with my disciples at your house.'" So the disciples did as Jesus had directed them and prepared the Passover." Some young children were shifting uncomfortably in the pews. "How will we show that God is King when we're tempted, to abandon the way God call us to live? Knowing God is our King should change everything but we can't change everything all at once! So what one small step of obedience can we take this week to demonstrate with our lives that God is King all of the time? Take time to pray, and then seek to obey as Jesus obeyed. Amen!" Reverend Morris ended his sermon abruptly, no doubt to the relief of many, but most importantly, to himself. He descended from the pulpit and sat down beside the organ, as a member of the choir stepped up to the lectern to do a reading. He hardly heard a word the woman said, for his eyes were fixated on Myah's bare feet. She was still gently massaging her left foot. Oh dear, this was going to be unbearable. He knew she'd volunteered to take part in the ceremonial foot washing. Myah suddenly glanced at the vicar and smiled at him. He jolted and cleared his throat, before smiling back. He could feel a familiar burning in his cheeks, not to mention a throbbing in his cock, which was now at full stand, and forcing its way up against his trousers and vestments. He had never been more grateful to be wearing a cassock and surplice. He cast his mind back to last year when he'd allowed himself to be seduced by her. All in the past of course and they'd moved on. Besides, she was blissfully happy in a relationship with Gordon. The organist had slept with Jenna on numerous occasions before Myah had come along. Hmm, well best not to dwell on that tangled web of carnal relations right now. The reading came to an end and everyone stood up. "Please stand for our hymn, Sweet Sacrament Divine." Reverend Morris said, his voice faltering. On the front row of pews, Jenna tilted her head at her husband's shaky delivery, wondering what was wrong with him. It wasn't like Simon to be nervous when speaking in front of an audience. Something was bothering him though. She could see a line of sweat above his upper lip and a blush on his cheeks. After the hymn, came the ceremonial washing of feet, a reminder of how Jesus served others. As Myah sat before the vicar, her delicate hands folded in prayer, he could feel his heart race with anticipation. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves, and began to wash her feet, using a soft, damp cloth to clean each toe, each inch of her soles. As his fingers brushed against her skin, he felt a surge of desire course through him, making it difficult to concentrate on anything but the feel of her feet against his palms. His erection began to ache, straining against his clothing, and he fought the urge to reach down and adjust himself, lest he give anything away. Myah seemed oblivious to his inner turmoil, content to let him tend to her with his gentle ministrations. Her breath hitched softly as he massaged a particularly tender spot on her arch, and he found himself growing bolder, wanting nothing more than to explore every inch of her feet, to lose himself in their softness and warmth. He moved his hands higher, tracing the line of her calves, feeling the muscles tense and relax under his touch. "Are you washing feet or giving out a full sponge bath, Vicar?" Reverend Morris was jolted back to reality and he glanced up. An impatient old woman sat next to Myah was glaring at him. "It'll be Advent before you've got round to washing all our feet." "Umm, my apologies, Mrs. Harris, I er;" "Stop being mean to him," Myah interrupted. "He's just being thorough. Like Jesus would've been!" The old woman tutted. "I'm not being mean, young lady!" The vicar's face was turning crimson, fearing that his arousal might be visible. He tried to focus on his duties, to keep his mind on the ritual, but it was becoming increasingly difficult, not to mention he was leaking precum into his underwear. The wet patch was becoming uncomfortable against his cock. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and forced his mind back to the task at hand. He finished washing her feet with a gentle pat, feeling a pang of regret as he stepped away from her. "About time," Mrs. Harris muttered as the vicar began washing her feet. "And be careful. I've got corns!" The ninety-year old's gnarled toes were sufficient to calm the raging sea of arousal surging within him. At least until the service was over. Myah headed back to the organ, her feet feeling lovely and refreshed. "What was that all about?" Gordon wondered, as she sat next to him on the organ stool. "Simon looks a bit flustered." "Well I could be wrong, Gordy-Pie, but I think he's got a raging hard-on under those robes. I noticed him staring at my feet earlier. He kept trying not to, but couldn't help himself!" She giggled. "Do you think he's got a foot fetish?" "Nah. He's done foot washing before and I don't recall him getting worked up." "Yeah but, this is the first time he's washed my feet; or Jenna's. She didn't volunteer last year." "Hmm, well you do have beautiful feet. I'm not into feet myself; I'm a thigh, tits and arse man, as well you know!" "Your feet are nice too." "Ha ha, you're just being kind, there! My size nines are ugly, hairy and sweaty." "Organists have special feet. After pressing down on those pedals, yours must be aching." "A bit. Perhaps you could; heal me later?" He winked at her. The rest of the service passed without incident. Reverend Morris had never been more relieved to return to the vicarage. "Are you okay Simon?" Jenna asked as he flopped down on the settee and fiddled with his clerical collar. "You seemed a bit uncomfortable in the church. You're not coming down with a bug are you?" "Oh I'm absolutely fine, my love, It was a bit warm in the church. I'll have to ask Norman to adjust the radiators." "I enjoyed the foot washing. Though not as much as you did!" She sat beside him and ran a finger across his knee. "Now Jesus being the Son of God, I reckon he was able to resist temptation when washing the feet of some nubile female disciple." The talk of feet was getting the vicar hot and bothered again. "Um, can't say I've ever given any thought to whether Jesus had those kind of; er, urges." "Would it have been wrong if he had?" She continued. "Not trying to be disrespectful. I'm just curious, that's all." "Probably not, given that he died to save us from our sins." He coughed and felt his cheeks burning again. "Simon you're blushing. Something's bothering you. Please tell me what's wrong." "I'm not sure I can, Jen. I'm a bit ashamed of it to be honest. It's not something I've ever admitted to anyone." She placed her hand in his. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. Please don't feel ashamed." He took a deep breath. "Feet. I like feet, Jen. I; have a foot fetish. Ever since I was a teenager. I don't know why. Women's feet. They just float my boat. There, I said it." "That's nothing to feel ashamed about, Simon! I think you'll find that's a really common fetish." She embraced him. "Though I wish I'd had better self-control during that part of the service. I was as hard as rock during the foot washing; when I did yours; and your cousin's. I think she's sussed me out." "Oh Myah wouldn't have noticed. Probably too distracted by thinking about getting her hands on Gordon's organ pipe. Besides, you had your robes on. Nobody would've suspected a thing. Right;" she continued. "I'm going to have a very quick shower. And when I come out, I expect you to be lying on the bed, feet bare, ready and waiting." She winked at him and his stomach jolted in excitement. "You mean;" Jenna smiled. "It's Maundy Thursday, Simon. What better time to indulge in a bit of foot worship? Now go and lie on the bed." He immediately obeyed. In the shower, Jenna began singing, no doubt in preparation for the big event on Easter Sunday. Reverend Morris was really looking forward to that. His church was going to be packed. Getting the Guild Voices to perform truly was a master stroke on Gordon's part. And with Jenna singing in the Guild too, well, what could go wrong? Nobody would want to attend St Peter's for Easter, even if they did have a hot organist who looked like Robert Pattinson. He started undressing and reclined on the bed. Closing his eyes, his mind drifted back to the incident in church, when Myah had been massaging her sore foot. Five minutes later, his eyes shot open as he felt a kiss on his cheek. Jenna smirked and lay back down, deliberately pressing her breasts, warm and wet from the shower, against his chest. He let out something that was halfway between a sigh and a moan and craned his neck to meet her mouth with his. She raked her nails down his scalp. She tended to get less gentle as she grew more aroused, so this was a sure sign that she was enjoying herself just as much as she was. He grinned against her lips and placed his own hands on her hips, gripping the gentle undulations there. Jenna was so good at multi-tasking, whilst he could only focus on one thing at a time if he was going to do it halfway well. So he concentrated on kissing her properly, on wrestling his tongue against hers. "Simon, take your undies off," she gasped, dismounting him, her breasts bouncing as she went. It took him a couple of seconds to comply and he cast his boxers aside. "Now." She settled herself on the side of the bed, legs dangling over the edge. "On your knees." He obeyed, unable to contain his excitement. Jenna giggled and extended a leg. "I want you to massage my feet Reverend," she purred, sending shivers of joy through him. "You're going to massage them, and then you're going to worship them. Do you understand?" Salivating, he nodded eagerly. She had such pretty feet. The shape of the actual foot was perfect, the heel smooth and well cared-for, the skin of the instep soft and delicate. He longed to put his mouth all over it and his cock pulsed impatiently. Taking her right foot, he focused on her little toe, licking along the bottom of it, then running his tongue back down the side, all the way into the little dip. Reaching the bottom, he wrapped his lips around the digit and gently sucked once again. "Mmm." This was sufficient encouragement for him to repeat the attentions, pressing kisses back down to her heel, his fingers kneading gently the flesh he hadn't yet reached. Then, looping back up to the top, he sucked each of the remaining toes in turn, massaging the pads with his tongue, forming his lips to the shape of Jenna's flesh, entirely lost in the sensation. By the time he had properly attended to every part of her right foot, he realized that he had spent quite a lot of time performing his worship, crouched on the carpet on his knees, and glanced up sheepishly to assure that his wife wasn't bored. She definitely wasn't and made a strange, strangled noise of surprise and pleasure. "That feels amazing, Simon. Now do my other foot." The vicar longed to touch himself. His cock ached with his arousal and neglect. But he wasn't about to leave a job unfinished, and quickly started worshipping Jenna's left foot too. "Ooh!" Reverend Morris began to say a prayer. "Heavenly Father, We lift up prayers of thankfulness for the example of humility that Christ has given us, as He washed His disciple's feet that night. Humbling Himself, and teaching us how to treat one another with the same humility and love. Thank You, Lord for His life. Help us to live as He did, humbly before You and others. In Jesus' name, Amen." "Thank you for worshipping my feet, Simon," Jenna moaned. "Now you may worship the rest of me." Even before he pushed her legs apart she made room for him. And no wonder: she was very ready, her entrance slick with her natural lubricant, her cunt pink and engorged. She had been teasing herself for some time. It was proof that she had indeed enjoyed the foot worship as much as she had claimed to, and almost as much as he had. He reached out a hand, tracing the line of Jenna's shoulder with his finger, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. Her breathing deepened, and she let out a contented sigh, as if she felt the touch even in her dreams. "Mmm. Happy Maundy Thursday Jen," he whispered. The air in the vicarage bedroom seemed to crackle with desire as Reverend Morris leaned in and kissed her deeply, their tongues tangling together in a dance of passion. He rolled onto his side, taking her into his arms, their naked bodies pressing tightly together. With ease, he slid his hand down between their bodies, guiding himself toward her wetness. She arched her back, meeting his touch with a moan, and he thrust forward, filling her completely. The sensation was exquisite, the connection they shared almost painfully intense. They moved together in perfect sync, their bodies writhing and twisting as if they were a single entity. Their skin glistened with sweat, their breaths came in ragged gasps, and Reverend Morris knew that he was on the brink of his own release. He looked down at Jenna, her face flushed, her eyes clouded with pleasure, and he felt an overwhelming love and desire for her consume him. With one final thrust, he emptied himself into her, their bodies collapsing together in a tangle of limbs and sheets. "God." was all he could utter as he and Jenna got their breaths back. "Needed to get that out of your system didn't you, my love?" Jenna smiled, rubbing a hand across his belly. "I'm glad you told me about your little fetish. I'll keep it in mind the next time I want to surprise you!" "So; you're okay with it then? You don't think it's weird?" "Of course, Simon! And it's not weird. And it's 2024, not 1824. As a matter of fact, I rather like the idea of being married to a feet-loving vicar!" He laughed. "I'm just going to pop downstairs and grab a glass of water, then I'll be straight back up to tickle your feet some more!" He slid off the bed and hurried out of the room, not bothering to put any clothes on. After all, who was going to..? "Oh I say, Vicar!" He froze as he reached the bottom of the stairs, his cock swinging. Mrs. Harris, the impatient old woman who'd berated him earlier, was standing in the hallway. "Sorry for interrupting I'm sure. But you did say yours was an open house, and I did knock. The Mother's Union have produced these biscuits ready for Easter Sunday. You did request that I bring you some. I would've handed them to you in the church, but you hurried off home so fast, I didn't get the chance!" Poor Reverend Morris. He hadn't been this shocked since he walked in on Gladys Wilcox spanking the naked churchwarden's arse last year. "Umm, umm, thank you very much Mrs. Harris!" He grabbed a copy of the parish magazine off a side table and tried to cover himself. "Er, so sorry about this; I was; er, in the shower!" The stern-faced pensioner raised an eyebrow. "Quite. Well I trust you'll be more suitably attired during the Sunday service! Good day to you!" To be continued in part 2, Based on a post by Blacksheep, for Literotica.

This talk was originally presented at Spring Harvest in Skegness, England on April 15, 1987. --- Music: John Hanson

Vicar's wife, Jenna, decides to give up sex for Lent!A series in 17 parts, by Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The Jenna series started with ‘Jenna Goes To Church', followed shortly after with ‘Jenna, the Vicar's Wife'. It resumed recently with Jenna's New Year'; and now it continues with a Lentil 2-part story. Other episodes will follow.It was the last Sunday of Shrovetide, known as Quinquagesima. At St. Michael's Church, Reverend Morris had amassed a pile of old palm crosses, intending to burn them on Ash Wednesday."Shouldn't be long before the first members of the faithful arrive," he said to his wife Jenna, who was adjusting the flowers at the side of the pulpit."Oh before I forget, I've got something for you to burn on Ash Wednesday," she smiled, handing him a pair of her panties."This is an unusual-looking palm cross!" He replied. "I think I'd better burn this separately from the others! Is there some reason why you want your undies reduced to ash?""Well Simon, I've been thinking. And I've finally decided what I'm going to give up for Lent.""You're giving up wearing underwear?""Ha-ha. Tempting, but no. I'm giving up sex."Reverend Morris almost dropped the box full of crosses. "What? Sex? No, you can't be serious!"Jenna nodded. "I'm 100% serious, my love. Lent is supposed to be hard, and you're always going on about how part of being a good Christian is making sacrifices and so on. It's traditionally a time of fasting and abstaining from something to repent and focus our hearts and minds on the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.""Yes, but within reason, Jen! I don't expect you to suffer hardship as bad as that!""I can do it, Simon. I'm committed to seeing it through. It's only forty days.""B-but, that's six weeks!" the vicar whined, looking as if his entire world was about to end. "I, I'm not sure I can, er, go without for so long!""Now Simon, you're a man of God. You're stronger than most. I know you can do this. And just think how wonderful it will be when Easter comes, everything in calf, bursting out in spring glory, sap rising, mating seasons beginning, shoots thrusting upwards, days getting longer, ""Vicars dying of horniness, " Reverend Morris sighed."Exactly. And it won't just be you going without. The other chaps of this church will have to go without as well!""Oh my goodness, Jenna. There's going to be a lot of frustration building up in this church! When you say no sex, does that mean, ""No physical contact whatsoever, my dearest! No blowjobs, no kissing, no cock in cunt, nada! Just like social distancing."Reverend Morris' lip was trembling. "Not even a kiss?""Nope. I'll be sleeping in the spare bedroom until Easter. I can blow you a kiss. And whilst we can't do anything involving physical contact, there are other naughty ways we can get through Lent.""Like what?""Use your imagination, Simon!"He thought for a moment. "So I'll have to make do with dating Rosie Palms until Easter?""If it helps you cope, yes!"The reverend took a deep breath. "You're absolutely right, Jenna. I can get through this. I admire you so much for deciding to have a sex ban. In fact, I think I love you even more, and I didn't think that possible!""Aww. Ditto." She kissed him. "We'll make the most of Shrove Tuesday," she added, with a wink. "I'm going to do some creative things with pancakes."He slipped his arms around her. "Remember that morning after the Candlemas service, when we got soaking wet in the rain and we just ravished each other once we got back to the vicarage?""Hee hee, yes. Or that time last month during that short holiday in Lincolnshire when we stayed in that weird hotel, and the ghost gatecrashed our passion?""Bit early in the morning for that, isn't it? Then again, I'm not complaining!" A voice shouted, and they both looked round. Gordon the organist had just arrived.Moments later, Josh the curate appeared."Morning guys!" Jenna smiled. She turned back to her husband. "You'd better get your robes on. Looks like some of the congregation are here already. I'll go and hand out some hymn books."He nodded and headed off to the vestry. "Forty days," he sighed. "God, .I will really need your help through this difficult time!"And just how were some of the other male members of St. Michael's Church going to cope for forty days without any 'spiritual guidance' from the vicar's wife?Shrove Tuesday (the eve of Lent)On Shrove Tuesday, Jenna spent all afternoon mixing pancake batter. It would've been quicker to buy some ready-made pancakes from Tesco, but where was the fun in that? She looked at the kitchen wall clock."Come on Simon, you're late. How long does a meeting with the Bishop take?"Her husband had been out all day. At last, she heard his car pull up on the drive."Good. Now the fun begins."The front door opened and Reverend Morris came rushing in. "Sorry I've been so long. Bishop George kept prattling on for ages and then coming back home there's been a road accident so I had to take the long way home, oh I see you've been busy!" He noticed his wife was completely naked except for an apron."Welcome home," she smirked. "It's time to flip some pancakes. Is my randy reverend able to provide some batter?"He licked his lips. "What sort of batter would you be requiring?""Hmm, let's see. That special 'anointing oil' you used during my 21st birthday?" She whirled a frying pan in her hand and flipped a pancake. "Here's one I prepared earlier."His hands found her shoulders, and turned her to face him. His hands moved up to cup her face and Jenna felt his lips close around hers in a tender kiss. She returned it with rising passion, slipping her tongue into his mouth. As their tongues danced, Jenna quickly unfastened her apron, letting it slide down over her smooth skin to the kitchen floor.She could hear Reverend Morris unfastening his own garments, and when he embraced her tightly, she felt his bare skin press against hers with delicious warmth. Her husband's mouth left her lips, trailing down her neck to her chest. He took a nipple in his mouth and teased the erect tip. It was perhaps the upcoming sex ban enhancing his senses, but Jenna's breasts had never felt so full, and had never tasted so sweet. His hands roamed down over her arse, savoring her curves.Reverend Morris moved back up her body, his lips playing over her breasts, then back up her neck. Jenna's hands slid down his chest and at last reached their goal. She gripped his throbbing member, took a few steps backward, pulling gently but firmly, and he promptly followed her. She felt the edge of the kitchen countertop meet her lower back, and she swiftly heaved herself on to the cool granite surface and lay back, spreading her legs.Reverend Morris had a sudden urge to taste his wife; his tongue met with her soft skin just above her clit, then down into her folds, tasting, discovering and exploring all that she had to offer. He began to suck and lick her clit. How he loved to worship at this altar.Jenna reached for the bowl of pancake batter. A wooden spoon was sticking out of the bowl. Without hesitation, she began spooning the batter down her breasts."It tastes alright," she murmured, placing a blob of batter on her husband's nose. "But it needs an extra ingredient, ""Umm, I think I can help you there.""Fuck me religiously, darling." Jenna said hoarsely.A pair of strong, silky legs wrapped around the vicar's arse. He lowered himself onto her and felt those glorious batter-coated breasts rub against his chest as he began thrusting into her. He tried to set a steady, leisurely pace to begin, but the legs around him urged him on faster and harder. Reverend Morris responded with enthusiasm, and within moments he was pounding into his wife with all his strength, mindful that after tonight he wouldn't be able to do this for six weeks."Yes, yes, oh my God yes, I've never felt anything like it!" Jenna moaned."Bloody hell, I'm coming, oh Jenna!" Reverend Morris yelled as his stream of hot cum filled up her cunt and flowed back out onto the kitchen countertop.Jenna lay back on the countertop, eyes closed. It was several minutes before her breathing had calmed enough for her to speak."Did I provide enough batter?" Reverend Morris asked."Your holy offering was more than generous!""Forty days without from this moment on. You've still time to change your mind.""I'm sticking to it, Simon. We'll get through Lent. We'll have to think up some creative contactless ways to get our rocks off."The smell of burning interrupted them. They both glanced at the stove. To Jenna's dismay, the pancake she'd been cooking had been virtually cremated in the frying pan."Oh dear," she said, gazing at the remains of the pancake, which now resembled a lump of coal."Now that's what I call a perfect burnt offering for Ash Wednesday!" Reverend Morris replied.The Organist is Entertained.Gordon Leesmith always looked forward to Thursday evening arriving. This was when he had organ practice at church, and for the past few months he'd been teaching Jenna to play the organ. These lessons were really just an excuse for a passionate romp with the stunning vicar's wife, who was always more than willing to get her hands on the organ in his trousers, rather than the church one.Gordon hummed to himself as he brewed himself a cup of tea. He checked the time. It was only just after midday. Six hours to go. He was impatient and horny, but in a very happy mood. He'd just returned from seeing his Primary Care physician. That in itself something of a miracle in modern Britain; and received good news. His benign prostate enlargement wasn't as bad as he'd feared. Despite being a bit overweight, the doctor had given him a clean bill of health. His blood pressure was low, and so was his cholesterol.Today was his birthday. He was fifty six. A year ago, Gordon had been a miserable, short-tempered man who didn't endear himself to anyone else in the church. Long-divorced, impotent and frustrated with being alone for so long, his life had turned upside down when a young woman by the name of Jenna Fox had started attending St. Michael's Church. A few months later, she'd turned her attentions to flirting with him. Never in a million years did Gordon think he'd end up getting his cock sucked by a stunning redhead whilst he sat on the organ stool.As Gordon sipped his tea, his phone vibrated."Oh, an email from Jenna," he smiled, checking the message.Happy Birthday Gordon! About tonight. I'm afraid I can't make tonight's organ practice. I won't be able to until Easter arrives. Thing is, I've chosen to give up sex for Lent. I know you won't to hear this and it's going to be so hard for me to stick to this, but you've got to test yourself and set a challenge, right? It's what being a Christian is all about. I truly hope you'll understand. But - that doesn't mean we can't still have some fun! Make sure you visit the church - I've left a birthday present for you on the organ stool, trust me, it'll see you through this hard time. And when Easter comes, Jesus won't be the only person that rises, wink wink. It'll be worth the wait, keep your organ pipe warm for me.Love Jenna. xxx"She's abstaining from sex?" Gordon almost dropped his cup of tea. "Wait, what? Oh no! This is a nightmare! I won't be able to have a fuck for six weeks? Bloody hell! I'll go round the bend, I can't even call on Yulia's mate Martika anymore. Damn it, why did she have to bugger off back to Ukraine?"He wasn't sure whether to scream or burst into tears, but after he overcame the initial shock, he took a deep breath and composed himself."Well if she's gone on strike that means the vicar, the churchwarden, the curate and the bishop won't be getting any cunt either. Ha! Misery loves company, as the old saying goes. Gordon suddenly felt much better, knowing he wasn't the only one being denied the pleasure. Still, six weeks, God, this was going to be a struggle."Hmm, oh well. I've endured worse. I once had to endure that ‘Brotherhood of Man' tribute act in Skegness. I wonder what Jenna's got me for my birthday?"He picked up his car keys. There was only one way to find out.When Gordon arrived at the church, he discovered that the door was unlocked. Usually he had the place to himself, and he was thankful for that, given the sort of "organ practice" he liked to engage in with Jenna. Cautiously, he entered the church. The sound of a vacuum cleaner could be heard. Mrs. Wilcox, one of the many "old church biddies" as Gordon secretly called them, was busy cleaning up the aisle. Noticing the organist approaching, the slightly-built pensioner switched off the vacuum."Ah, hello Gordon! Are you here to tickle the ivories? I'm just finishing off here and then I'll be out of your way." It wasn't at all fair to describe Gladys as an ‘old biddy'. She kept herself fit and classy, and besides the rotation of sanctuary cleaning which she took part, she also headed up an outreach to single mothers in the community."Hello Gladys. No need to stop on my account. I usually come here in the evening, but, er, change of plans. You know, you really should lock yourself in when you're here by yourself. You know what it's like these days. Quite a few crackheads and drunks hang around the churchyard, some can be intimidating."The old woman rolled her eyes. "Oh they don't concern me, dearie. I carry a small can of mace in my apron pocket. My grandson Dwaine bought it for me online. He'll be arriving soon to give me a lift home."Gordon raised an eyebrow. "Blimey. There's more to you than meets the eye. Is that stuff even legal?""Maybe not, but you won't rat on an oldie, will you?" She looked back over her shoulder at him, then winked.Gordon laughed. "My lips are sealed, Gladys."Gordon's Lentil Gift From JennaHe hurried to the organ. "Crafty old gal," he said to himself. On the stool was a red gift bag. "Ah, this must be Jenna's little present for me," he said sitting down on the stool and opening the bag. A large red envelope and something wrapped in pink tissue paper were inside. He opened the envelope, and pulled out a birthday card. Inside, Jenna had written a little rhyme.Organists are sexyNone more than youOpen your presentIt'll help you get through!Xxxx"Ha-ha," Gordon chuckled. "Well whatever is this present?" He began tearing off the tissue paper. "What's this? A torch?" He held up the plastic object, then removed the cap on the end. "Bloody hell. She's bought me one of those fleshlight sex toys!" He peered closely at the silicone vagina. "Nice cunt lips, even if they are artificial, oh wait, there's a piece of paper stuffed inside." He pulled out the note.Hello Gordon. I had this specially made for you. Now you can still put your organ pipe inside me all through Lent! P S - don't forget to use the lube!"Wow, she had a cast of her own cunt made just for me! What a great birthday present! Last year all I got was a pair of slippers from my cousin." He noticed the small bottle of clear lube in the bottom of the gift bag, but didn't pay much attention to it, being too distracted by the sex toy. His erection was straining painfully against his underpants and trousers. Despite Mrs. Wilcox still busily vacuuming the pew cushions, Gordon unzipped and pulled out his cock. He peered over the top of the organ. The old girl had her back to him and besides, you had to walk round to the side of the organ to see anything. He was safely concealed behind the instrument. She wouldn't notice him having a quick wank,"Never used a sex toy before," he muttered to himself, sticking a finger into the fleshlight. "First time for everything though. It feels really tight, let's give it a go." He attempted to slide his cock inside."God, this is really tight, oof!" He managed to slide his cock halfway in, but instantly regretted it."Bit too tight, ouch!" He tried to pull out, but his cock was fully stuck inside the toy.The realization hit him. "Shit. I should've used the lube."Gordon bit his lip, as he tried to ease the thing off this manhood, but to no avail."Oh no."Gladys the paramedicMrs. Wilcox switched off the vacuum cleaner and glanced round. She could just see the top of Gordon's head. The organ was completely silent."Is he playing with the volume turned down?" She wondered.Gordon was starting to panic. If he didn't get this toy off soon, things could become embarrassing. He didn't want to have to drive up to an emergency medical center to get it removed."Come off, damn you, come off!" He grunted."Having problems, dearie?" Mrs. Wilcox said, appearing at the side of the organ. "Oh my!"Gordon looked mortified. "Um, hello Gladys," he mumbled. "I've got a bit of a problem.""I can see that, you silly boy. What on earth have you been doing? I trust that's not an outsized organ stop?"The organist blushed crimson. "Er, no. It's not. It's a, look, it's got stuck. I can't get it off my, thing.""Let's have a look." Before he could protest, she grabbed the fleshlight and pulled on it."Oww!" Gordon yelled. "Don't yank it like that, Gladys! I don't want to end up like John Wayne Bobbitt!""Needs some lubricant or something. That should help. When I was a child, I got my father's chamber pot stuck on my head. Mother used lard to get it off.""There's a bottle of lube in that bag," Gordon winced, as his cock started to hurt.Mrs. Wilcox wasted no time, and squirted a generous amount of the clear gel on her hands, before smearing some round the base of Gordon's cock. He gave an awkward cough as her gnarled old fingers probed around his privates. He'd never be able to look this eighty-something woman in the eye again during a church service. Going to A & E would be more embarrassing, he kept telling himself. Then again, perhaps not!"Alright, let's try easing if off. Nice and slow." Mrs. Wilcox gripped the base of his cock, and with her left hand began to gently pull the fleshlight. It began to slide off. "That's it! It's coming off now! Gently does it!""Almost," Gordon said, gritting his teeth.She continued to pull and finally, the toy slid off, with a popping sound."There we are! Pop goes the weasel!" Mrs. Wilcox smiled. She handed him the offending toy."Thanks so much," Gordon gasped, relieved that his cock hadn't come to any serious harm."What a big, thick willy you've got!" Mrs. Wilcox replied. "No wonder that thing got stuck!""Er, thanks," Gordon mumbled, feeling more embarrassed than ever."No need to be shy, dearie. A man who is blessed like you shouldn't hide his light under a bushel, no! It's so much bigger than my late husband's was. Dear old Bert, he used to love it when I played with his willy. Of course that was over twenty years ago. I wish I could give yours a proper sucking, but I'd have to remove my dentures, and I've used the Poligrip, "The mention of dentures being removed was almost sufficient to make Gordon lose his erection. He was about to say something, but she continued."On the other hand, an opportunity like this doesn't come my way very often! You don't mind letting an old lady have a little bit of fun before she ends up down the cemetery or in a nursing home do you, Gordon? I'm eighty-six. My mouth is pretty much all that works these days, so that will have to do. Think of it as my reward for rescuing your phallic treasure." She dragged over a nearby kneeling bench, knelt, and motioned for Gordon to step to offer her some ‘communion'.He hadn't the heart to say no. "Um, you go ahead, Gladys." Gordon closed his eyes as she removed her false teeth. He hadn't planned on getting a gum-job from a granny. He presented His cock on the padded velvet counter of her communion kneeler. She gasped in marvel at the glorious treat laying near her covered breasts. Then took his shaft slowly in one hand, and cupped his balls with her other hand. Her eye's sparkled as she beheld the phallus. And then her mouth engulfed his cock.Grasping the base of the shaft, Mrs. Wilcox took the organist's throbbing cock in her mouth and started to move her head back and forth, taking it deeper and deeper."Oh," Gordon sighed. He leaned back, gripping the sides of the organ stool and enjoyed the wonderful sensations as she sucked his manhood. She was good, no, she was very good! This was better than he ever could've imagined. The white-haired pensioner's head continued bobbing up and down on Gordon's cock, tasting some of the pre-cum."Oh yes!" He gasped. God, it felt so good!She withdrew and licked the tip of his cock, swirling around the purple head, as her fingers softly stroked the shaft. Her old skills began to come back to her. Her head and lips moved in an erotic performance. Her tongue provided a private performance that only his cock would ever experience. And the sultry ora she exuded was masterful. This woman was a sex god that only her husband ever worshipped. And now, Gordon was added to that exclusive clan of devotees."Gladys, I'm going to come," Gordon panted. "Uh!""Then fire away, dearie! I'd love a taste!" She felt him tense and then he climaxed. With that, he filled her mouth with streams of his thick, sticky cum as it spurted to the back of her throat. Mrs. Wilcox slurped and swallowed it all. Then she pressed her nose hard against his pelvice, and his thick meat pressed her larynx.As his final spurts tapered off, she very slowly pulled her head back, until his cock flopped down on the velvet padding where Gladys' grandchildren receieved their first holy Eucarist. "Umm, tastes just as good as I remember! There we go, Gordon. I'm sure you feel better now that you've emptied your plums!" She patted his cock, before lovingly tucking it back into his briefs and trousers and zipping him up. "You know something, a fine young man like you could easily pull a lady. Why, I bet there's loads of ladies who'd jump at the chance to get their hands on you! You're such a talented organist too, and you've been divorced a long time. Oh, If I were thirty years younger."Young? She thinks I'm young? I suppose to an octogenarian, fifty-six is young."Oh, I don't want to get married again," Gordon replied, wiping his brow. "I'd prefer something, casual." He cleared his throat. "Thanks for, helping me Gladys!""Well we're all good Christians here, yes? We should help each other!" Gladys looked at where she was kneeling. “Did you know, Gordon; The Greek word for communion is ‘koinonia'. It's also the Greek word for ‘intercourse'? I'll always cherish this special treat you've shared with me.”The door of the church opened and a hulking, six-foot young man came strolling in. He was covered in tattoos and obviously a regular visitor to the gym, as his massive upper arms and shoulders proved. The man looked like he could break necks merely by flicking his finger."Gran, are you here?"Gordon froze in horror as he peered over the top of the organ. "Who the hell's that?" The man resembled Lewis Hamilton bulked up on steroids."Oh that'll be Dwaine, my grandson," Mrs. Wilcox replied. "Be with you in a minute, sweetie!" She called out. "I've just been helping Gordon to polish his organ!"A Sermon That's More Stimulating Than Usual.Reverend Morris was struggling to write his sermon. It was only the second week of Lent, but he was finding this one harder than he ever imagined. The sex ban that his wife had imposed was starting to bite. Jenna seemed to be coping much better than him, and he felt ashamed at his weakness."Help me to be strong, Lord!"Suddenly, his phone beeped. A message from Jenna.Hello Simon. It's lunch break here at work. I figured you're still home alone and maybe feeling a bit, stressed? Why not look up Write-Erotica for some inspiration?She added a winking emoji"Write-Erotica? What's that?" the vicar wondered. He eagerly opened the laptop's browser. "A site for writers of erotic fiction? Hmm. I've never heard of this before. I'm always years behind everyone else, when it comes to things. Okay, let's have a browse. I wonder if there are any naughty fictions about clergy on here?"Reverend Morris soon discovered that the tags for "priest" "vicar" and "church sex" brought up a massive number of results. He was spoilt for choice and clicked on several stories. Some were much-better written than others."Jessica and Father Andrew broke the kiss, a trail of saliva still connecting their lips together. Their mouths were still so close to each other. Jessica let out a small breath as the priest grabbed her tight little ass. "You can go inside, if you want," she told him, then she pressed her lips on his mouth again and soon enough Father Andrew's tongue was in her mouth now, not that she minded at all. They had to be very quiet because they were in the confessional booth,"Reverend Morris read out loud."But the church was empty, so why did they need to be quiet? Eh, I'm just nit picking. This is a pretty hot story!" Feeling himself getting hard, Reverend Morris unzipped his trousers and slipped a hand inside, pulling out his cock. As he continued to read, he started jacking his cock slowly.Jessica unzipped the priest's pants, ‘oh yes,' he said. He began to moan and groan as he continued pleasuring himself.Her sweet, heavenly lips worshipped his holy shaft in ways he never imagined,It felt so wonderful jerking his throbbing cock whilst reading this erotic fic. Reverend Morris began to move his hips around and his legs straightened out under the desk. Soon he laid his head back and stretched his body further. Next thing he know, he let out a rather loud, "Oh, yes, yes that's it!" and started to cum.His milky fluid spurted out and all over his laptop keyboard."Ah,"Write-Erotica had done its work and provided Reverend Morris with some much-needed relief, as well as inspiration."I still don't know what to write about for my sermon, but I'd love to have a go at writing an erotic story just for Jenna," he smiled, getting some wet wipes and cleaning up his keyboard. "I've never tried writing erotica before, but first time for everything! Maybe we could write a chain story or something, and get it finished just before Easter? That could be fun!"Excited by this new idea, the vicar opened a new Word document and began typing away."I'll just write a few paragraphs of smut and then I must finish my sermon!" At the Sunday Eucharist,Reverend Morris was joined by another vicar, who was standing in for Josh the curate, who was attending a conference in Birmingham, as part of his ongoing religious training."A very warm welcome to everyone this morning," Reverend Morris began, addressing the congregation. "As we continue our journey through Lent, I'd like to introduce Reverend Jones from St. Wilfrid's church in Manchester. It's a great honor for her to be here today - she'll be reading the sermon I've been laboring over all week,""Poor woman," someone in the congregation muttered, leading to some muffled sniggers.While the vicar was talking, Gordon was idly peering over the top of the organ. He noticed Jenna sat in the front pew and winked at her. Moments later, Mrs. Wilcox, who was sat next to her, winked back at him and gave him a little wave. Gordon gave an awkward smile and shrunk back behind the organ,"Without further ado, I shall now hand over to Reverend Jones," Reverend Morris said.The vicar of St. Wilfrid's was a dumpy, bespectacled woman, aged about fifty, with grey hair in a bowl cut."Looks like the identical twin of that MP woman," an old man muttered. "What's her name? Therese, something. She's the secretary of state.""No idea," another old man replied. "Oh wait a minute! I know who you mean. Norman Lamont! I thought those eyebrows looked familiar,""No you daft git, he's a bloke!""That vicar looks like a lass to me. Mind you, one can't tell these days,"Reverend Jones stepped up to the pulpit and placed some papers on the book stand."I haven't had a sneak-peek at this sermon," she began. "So it will be a wonderful surprise for me as well as you. I'm sure Reverend Morris has gone the extra mile, as he usually does, and written something that'll make us all think."Reverend Morris gave a proud smile as he looked up at her.Gordon gave a subtle yawn. He always dreaded this part of the service. Reverend Morris had the ability to cure insomnia with his sermons, despite Jenna's best efforts to inject a bit more fun into them,"They say the Devil makes work for idle hands," Reverend Jones said, as she began reading the sermon. "That's a phrase we're all familiar with. This morning, I woke up, and my hands were rotting in idleness. My mind had been drifting to places, sinful places all week. I wouldn't say I'm a regular user of PornHub but," she paused.A look of horror appeared on Reverend Morris' face. "That isn't my sermon," he said to himself. "Oh no,"In the pews, there were a couple of awkward coughs and raised eyebrows. At the organ, Gordon suddenly perked up. This had to be the first time ever that the word PornHub was mentioned in a sermon!"The site just wasn't doing it for me," Reverend Jones continued, "so I decided to go for a walk in the park. I can't tell you how my spirits were instantly lifted. Light was filtering through the trees. It was golden and bright. How blessed we are that God has made all this for us, I thought, and then something in the bushes caught my eye. There was no-one else around. It was then that I saw her, naked as Eve in the Garden of Eden, about to take a dip in the lake. Her sweetly, up-tilted bare breasts reflected the glorious morning aura and her rose-pink nipples were as full and hard as ripe apples,"Reverend Jones paused. "What an excellent use of adjectives. I'm sure we can just imagine this scene in our heads can't we?"Never had the congregation of St, Michael's been so engrossed by a sermon before!"Not half," someone said out loud.Poor Reverend Morris' face had flooded several shades of red. He stood up and hurried to the pulpit."Angela, that's not the sermon I wrote!" He mumbled, begging her to stop."I've started, so I'll finish," she replied. "Everyone seems to be enjoying this.""Her name was Giselle, and she loved to unburden herself and swim in the lake. Freed from her clothes, I watched her in the nude and was convinced I was seeing the embodiment of an angel. She knew I watching, and she knew I liked to watch. I knew she liked me to watch, but this morning, we decided to do more than watch.""How romantic," Mrs. Wilcox said, turning to Jenna. "Your husband has a fine turn of phrase. It's better than his usual sermons, dearie. You should encourage him to write more like this. This church will soon be packed to the rafters if he keeps this up!""Oh, thanks very much!" Jenna replied innocently. She gazed at poor Reverend Morris, who was squirming with embarrassment at the side of the pulpit. He'd mixed up his sermon with some erotic fic, did he write the fic himself or find it online? She was curious to find out."What could be more divine than seeing a beautiful woman naked in a park?" Reverend Jones continued, reading out the story without a care in the world. "Personally, I think Tom Hiddleston naked in a park would be more divine, but that's just my opinion, ""I shouldn't say such things as I'm in a church, but I wouldn't mind seeing the organist naked," Mrs. Wilcox whispered to Jenna, who did a double take. This was one of those rare occasions when even she was left speechless for a few moments!"Really Gladys! You dark horse. Didn't know you had the hots for Gordon!""Just because there's snow on the roof, doesn't mean the fire's gone out!" the old lady replied."Oh this next paragraph has been all scribbled out," Reverend Jones said. She flipped the page over."My pearly-white ejaculate looked perfect dripping off her pink-nosed puppies. I got some on my hand and remember being surprised that it was so hot. I pulled my cassock off and wiped the cum off my hand with it. I walked home that night with a huge smile on my face and love bites on my little reverend."Reverend Morris snatched the papers off the book stand. "Er, my sincere apologies everyone, I made a terrible mistake!""Such a shame, it was building up to a nice conclusion," Reverend Jones said."No, that wasn't my sermon at all. I, I have no idea how that piece of writing ended up mixed up with my church papers!""Dat some good shit right there, Vicar!" Tony the reformed drug addict said, standing up and clapping.The flustered vicar attempted to move on. "Hymn, let's all stand for the hymn! Lo, He Comes With Clouds Descending!""You know something Simon," Reverend Jones said as she headed down the pulpit steps, "you need to get yourself signed up to an adult fiction site. You have talent. I'm on A o 3 myself - under a pseudonym of course. I like writing slash fanfiction about British politicians, I can send you a link if you're interested in reading them?""Er, no thanks, Angela. I'm sure they're very good, but I prefer to avoid anything relating to politics!"To be continued in part 2.By Blacksheep, for Literotica.

Jenna helps a nervous choirmaster.Based on a post by Blacksheep, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.Reverend Simon Morris scanned through a long list of church notices. Holy Week was such a busy time for the parish vicar, and he still hadn't finished his special sermon ready for Easter Sunday."Palm Sunday was really well-attended," he said, typing something on his laptop. "Now there are one or two church notices I need to read through."His wife Jenna walked into the living room. "Oh before I forget, Simon, Judith Anderson from the Sunday School had a word with me after the service. She wishes it to be known that her grandson Kyle is trans, and now wants to be known as Ellie.John Pollard from the Men's Society has split up from his wife and wishes for her name to be removed from the church hall coffee rotation, too.""Ah, right, thanks. I'd better make a note of that. Are Gordon and Myah up to speed on the Maundy Thursday service's music? I know he normally does a choir and organ practice then, but;""Already emailed them, Simon," Jenna replied. "Relax. Everything is under control.""Choir practice for you tonight? I must say, I think it was a genius idea of Gordon's to combine our church's choir with the Guild Voices, just for our Easter service. Our choir is small, so it'll be nice to have a bigger group of singers for the holiest day in our Christian calendar.""Oh yes, the bigger the better," Jenna replied with a smirk. She'd just joined the Guild Voices, a mixed-voice choir of around twenty-five singers who performed several concerts a year. The choir was formed with the aim of singing the whole range of music both accompanied and acapella; both religious and secular, from the renaissance pieces of Byrd and Tallis to great oratorios such as Handel's "Messiah." In addition to traditional works, they also performed classical versions of popular music. Jenna was enjoying the weekly recitals, and not just because of the music. The choirmaster was a chap called Derek Blackledge, and on more than one occasion, Jenna had noticed him staring at her."Last year, the Guild Voices performed at Evensong at York Minster," Reverend Morris said. "Gosh, I'm so looking forward to our Easter Sunday Service! We'll definitely have a bigger congregation than St. Peter's;""Ooh, do I sense a rivalry between churches, Simon?""Well, a bit unChristian of me to say, but I can't stand that Reverend Conway. He completely blanked me at annual clergy conference last month. I don't know what his problem is.""Not all vicars are as wonderful as you, my love."He smiled and resumed typing. "They've just got a new organist there too. Conway was raving about him. Younger bloke, seems to have the women of St. Peter's all hot and bothered. Edward, I think his name is.""Ha, he won't be anywhere near as good as Gordon is," Jenna said. "Nobody plays organ as good as he does.""I don't think it's his playing they're interested in! Apparently he resembles the actor Robert Pattinson. I suppose that's one way to get more younger people attending church services."Jenna almost dropped the cup of coffee she was holding. "Fancy that." She stifled a gasp. I can't believe it. That was the organist who played for the King at Liverpool Cathedral last year! She thought. He was a cutie for sure; had a nice cock too, as I recall. Small world. Never imagined he'd end up here in our town.The Guild Voices choir practices took place every Wednesday evening in a function room at the town hall. The room was spacious and blessed with good acoustics, a piano and a box organ. Jenna arrived earlier than normal, and gathered up her music books off the car's passenger seat."Hope none of the others are there yet," she smiled to herself.Derek Blackledge was alone in the function room, adjusting a music stand. He was a tall, stocky man, around sixty years of age. He was wearing a pale blue open-necked shirt, black trousers and rimless glasses. His buzz-cut silver hair was balding. He had a round face and a wide, flat nose, which as Jenna had overheard another member of the choir unkindly say, "made him look like he'd been bashed in the face with a frying pan." That wasn't strictly true, and Jenna didn't think him that bad looking at all. He spoke in a clipped, staccato sort of way.Derek looked up as Jenna entered the room. In the four weeks she'd been a member of the Guild Voices, the stunning redhead had certainly livened up the group of mostly boomer-age singers. Jenna was one of the most beautiful and charming women he had ever met, and he couldn't understand what she saw in her husband, the much-older Reverend Morris. The good vicar was a kind and decent chap, but seemed duller than Skegness in January."Uh; evening Jenna! You're very early! I was just;""Hello Derek. Yes, didn't realize just how early I was!""Nothing wrong with that. I admire your dedication. Would you like a brew?" He walked over to a small table in the corner of the room where there was a coffee machine and a kettle."Yes please. Tea. White, no sugar."He made some more idle chatter whilst he waited for the kettle to boil. Glancing round, he noticed she'd seated herself on a chair and crossed her legs. The black dress she was wearing was quite short and had ridden up nicely, exposing a generous amount of thigh. A most welcome sight for the long-divorced choirmaster who'd had zero success in the world of dating since going back on the market."This our last rehearsal before Easter Sunday," Derek prattled, pouring the hot water into a mug. "It just seems to have crept up all at once. I'm looking forward to performing in St Michael's Church, with your choir. I hear your organist is very good.""Oh Gordon? Yes he's brilliant. He won't let you down.""Great to hear. Now I just need to ensure that the Guild doesn't let everyone down."Looking at the stocky choirmaster whom possessed a definite lack of confidence, Jenna realized that she would have to take control of the situation if the choir was going to put on their best performance on Easter Sunday. She had always been aware of Derek's interest in her physical attributes. In fact, she could see his eyes lingering on her breasts and her bare legs crossed in front of her. Perhaps it was now time to play her trump card."I know we've had a few setbacks.""Setbacks? Do you know how much George and Alice being off sick is going to set us back? George is the best tenor we have." He handed her the mug of tea and sat opposite her."Perhaps I could do something to make things better." Jenna slowly uncrossed her legs and recrossed them, allowing her skirt to hike up her thigh watching Derek as his eyes were glued to her legs, straining to see up higher. He swallowed heavily as he shifted in his chair."Oh? Like what?""I could help relieve some of your pressure," she replied as she glanced at his crotch. The bulge tenting his black trousers already broadcasting his state of arousal.Jenna stood up and walked over to him. "You're a wonderful choirmaster, Derek. I just want you to know that. You go the extra mile and know how to bring out the best in people.""Thanks for the vote of confidence," he mumbled, turning red. He swallowed, feeling his erection straining against his trousers and underpants. It had been quite some time since a woman had got him worked up like this."Music really does bring people together," she continued."Yes, indeed it does;"Jenna leaned forward so that her face was close to his and placed her right hand on Derek's groin and squeezed. The choirmaster's voice shot up several octaves, then he let out a groan."Jah, Jenna; what are you doing?""Just inspecting your crotchets and quavers, Derek." she added naughtily. "Oh, feels like you've got a bassoon in your pants!"Before he could protest, she knelt and unzipped his black trousers, revealing his underwear - y-fronts, which had a musical notes pattern on them."Nice!" Jenna said out loud. She'd always had a fondness for men who wore y-fronts. She pulled them down, freeing his delightfully large cock. Grasping the base of the shaft, she took the bulbous head in her mouth and started to move up and down taking him deeper and deeper.Derek gasped, unable to speak. Instinctively, he grabbed the back of her head and pushed down, forcing himself deeper until he felt her lips around the base of his shaft. Holding her head, he pumped his engorged organ deep into the mouth of the vicar's wife, scarcely believing that his private fantasy was coming true. Her warm soft mouth aroused him further as he felt the blood pumping into his groin, making him harder than he could remember. He leaned back and enjoyed the incredible sensations as Jenna sucked his manhood. She was good, very good. Her husband may not have been very interesting, but bloody hell, he was a lucky bastard!Derek glanced warily at the conference room's door. At any moment, other members of the choir could come in. How the hell would he be able to explain himself?"Oh, Mrs. Morris here was just helping me with a very hard; piece of music!"As the stunning redhead continued to bob up and down in his lap, he leaned over and pulled down the top of her knit black dress to expose her pert breasts."Oh;" he sighed. "Not just; blessed with a fine voice."Jenna glanced up at him and winked."How about; I try and hit the high notes?" Derek pulled out of her mouth, stood up and turned her so that her arse was bent over his chair. He pushed his trousers and y-fronts down to his ankles. After jerking down her knickers he moved behind her, flipped up her black dress, lined himself up, then thrust abruptly into her tight wet tunnel, burying himself to the hilt."Oh God Derek, your musical instrument feels amazing!"He chuckled at this, and relished the fantastic feeling as he grasped her hips and slowly moved in and out of her hot passage, slick with her arousal. The illicit nature of the situation and doing it in a public place where they could be easily discovered added to the thrill and made both of them even more aroused. Jenna's nerves were hypersensitive and as the choirmaster plunged into her again and again she could feel the waves of pleasure build quickly.Derek slid his hands forward to cup her hanging breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples. He delighted in feeling the curved contour of the soft skin of her breasts in his hands as he pounded his rock-hard shaft into her. The pressure built quickly in his balls with the fantastic feeling of Jenna's tight vaginal walls clamped around his cock. It had been too long since he had really enjoyed such a sensuous treat and all too quickly he felt the pressure come to a head. He slammed his throbbing member as deep as he could and felt himself erupt as spurt after spurt of cum shot deep into his target.Jenna felt Derek tense and his final thrusts pushed her over the edge and she too felt waves of pleasure course through her body as she was wracked with the spasms of her orgasm."Hmm! Oh Derek! Feels so good!""Fuck; I needed that!" He sighed, slowly withdrawing and collapsing in the chair, pulling Jenna down on top of him. "Not sure if I have the energy to conduct a choir practice now!""Well you'll just have to try your best, Derek. Because I have a feeling others will be arriving soon, so you'd better get your baton out.""It's already out," he replied, taking a tissue from the box and wiping then stroking his softening cock, and pulling his underpants and trousers up. "Jenna that was; that was; lovely.""Awe, you seem so much happier now, Derek. You're a really brilliant choirmaster." She flung her arms around him and kissed him."And you; are a very dedicated member of the choir!" He stammered. "Um, well, I guess I'd better; compose myself!" He stood up and hurriedly fastened his belt. Jenna straightened her dress and pulled her knickers up.Just as Derek was zipping up the fly of his trousers, the door opened and Edna and Lawrence Draper, two members of the choir, came rushing in, as fast as they could, given that both had arthritic hips."Not too late are we Derek?" Edna said. "Only our bus was late.""Uh, not at all, plenty of time. Please, help yourselves to a hot drink whilst I get organized." Derek said. Seconds later, more people filed into the room."What piece of music have you and Derek been working on?" Lawrence asked Jenna, as he sat next to her."Oh; just some scales and arpeggios," came her reply. "We were going up and down quite a lot!"Bare feet thrill the vicar during Maundy Thursday."Brothers and Sisters. Today is Maundy Thursday, the fifth day of Holy Week. It gets its name from the Latin word 'mandare', from which we get the word 'command'. Christians remember Jesus' command: "Love one another as I have loved you."Though each of the days leading up to Easter Sunday are significant in their own ways, Maundy Thursday surrounds the events that led directly to Jesus' betrayal, arrest, and ultimately, His being put to death the next day on Good Friday."Reverend Morris continued. "The circumstances surrounding Maundy Thursday can be read in Matthew 26:17-75. The events that unfolded include the Last Supper that Jesus had with His disciples and betrayal of Jesus by Judas."The weather had become more spring-like and milder, which was a blessing to some of the older members of the congregation. March had blown in like a lion and was going out like a lamb. St Michael's church was often chilly and draughty during the winter months, even with the heating on. Today, it was pleasantly warm, helped in part due to the church being full for once.At the organ, Myah slipped her feet out of her shoes, ready to play a hymn before the start of the foot washing service. She rather liked the feel of the organ's pedalboard against her bare skin, and her feet felt hot and uncomfortable today. Earlier, she'd suffered cramp in the arch of her left foot. She reclined slightly on the stool, crossed her legs and idly flexed her toes as the vicar continued with his sermon. Gordon sat on a small bench behind her, admiring her shapely calves. He liked the way she raised her legs to slide onto the organ stool. Even more, he loved it when those legs were wrapped around him; something he was looking forward to later."Their time spent on the Mount of Olives, where Jesus prayed earnestly in the Garden of Gethsemane, and where He was ultimately betrayed with a kiss by Judas who came to seize Him with the temple guards. Peter's denial of Jesus;" Up in the pulpit, Reverend Morris glanced to his right and became more and more fixated on a certain something. One of his long-repressed kinks was rising to the surface at the most inappropriate of times. Women's feet, younger women's feet in particular, had always aroused him. He'd never told anyone about his foot fetish, not even Jenna. He'd never had such a reaction as this and certainly not during a church service. But the way his wife's cousin kept wiggling her toes like that, dear Lord, it was driving his imagination to commit all kinds of sin! It's Holy Week for heaven's sake; must fight this, he told himself."On the first day of the Festival of Unleavened Bread, the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Where do you want us to make preparations for you to eat the Passover?" The vicar's voice trembled slightly, as he struggled to remain composed.Abruptly, he noticed Myah wince and reach for her foot. The cramp had returned."What's wrong?" Gordon whispered."Damn cramp's back again," she replied. "Ah, it's agony! Can you play the hymn for me?""No problem," he said, as his girlfriend hobbled off the stool and sat on the bench. "Massage your foot slowly. Try putting it on the cold stone floor. That might help. I've gotten cramp loads of times in the past when playing. It's bloody torture!""Thanks, Gordy-Pie!"Poor Myah, Reverend Morris thought. Now he had an even better view of her bare feet. Such slim and elegant feet. So nimble against the organ's pedalboard. He took a deep breath as he imagined he was cupping the arch of her foot, his hand slotted in the tender space between the heel and the upper sole. After an awkward pause, he continued his sermon."He replied, "Go into the city to a certain man and tell him, 'The Teacher says: My appointed time is near. I am going to celebrate the Passover with my disciples at your house.'" So the disciples did as Jesus had directed them and prepared the Passover."Some young children were shifting uncomfortably in the pews."How will we show that God is King when we're tempted, to abandon the way God call us to live? Knowing God is our King should change everything but we can't change everything all at once! So what one small step of obedience can we take this week to demonstrate with our lives that God is King all of the time? Take time to pray, and then seek to obey as Jesus obeyed. Amen!"Reverend Morris ended his sermon abruptly, no doubt to the relief of many, but most importantly, to himself. He descended from the pulpit and sat down beside the organ, as a member of the choir stepped up to the lectern to do a reading. He hardly heard a word the woman said, for his eyes were fixated on Myah's bare feet. She was still gently massaging her left foot. Oh dear, this was going to be unbearable. He knew she'd volunteered to take part in the ceremonial foot washing.Myah suddenly glanced at the vicar and smiled at him. He jolted and cleared his throat, before smiling back. He could feel a familiar burning in his cheeks, not to mention a throbbing in his cock, which was now at full stand, and forcing its way up against his trousers and vestments. He had never been more grateful to be wearing a cassock and surplice. He cast his mind back to last year when he'd allowed himself to be seduced by her. All in the past of course and they'd moved on. Besides, she was blissfully happy in a relationship with Gordon. The organist had slept with Jenna on numerous occasions before Myah had come along. Hmm, well best not to dwell on that tangled web of carnal relations right now.The reading came to an end and everyone stood up. "Please stand for our hymn, Sweet Sacrament Divine." Reverend Morris said, his voice faltering.On the front row of pews, Jenna tilted her head at her husband's shaky delivery, wondering what was wrong with him. It wasn't like Simon to be nervous when speaking in front of an audience. Something was bothering him though. She could see a line of sweat above his upper lip and a blush on his cheeks.After the hymn, came the ceremonial washing of feet, a reminder of how Jesus served others. As Myah sat before the vicar, her delicate hands folded in prayer, he could feel his heart race with anticipation. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves, and began to wash her feet, using a soft, damp cloth to clean each toe, each inch of her soles. As his fingers brushed against her skin, he felt a surge of desire course through him, making it difficult to concentrate on anything but the feel of her feet against his palms. His erection began to ache, straining against his clothing, and he fought the urge to reach down and adjust himself, lest he give anything away.

Jenna helps a nervous choirmaster.Based on a post by Blacksheep, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.Reverend Simon Morris scanned through a long list of church notices. Holy Week was such a busy time for the parish vicar, and he still hadn't finished his special sermon ready for Easter Sunday."Palm Sunday was really well-attended," he said, typing something on his laptop. "Now there are one or two church notices I need to read through."His wife Jenna walked into the living room. "Oh before I forget, Simon, Judith Anderson from the Sunday School had a word with me after the service. She wishes it to be known that her grandson Kyle is trans, and now wants to be known as Ellie.John Pollard from the Men's Society has split up from his wife and wishes for her name to be removed from the church hall coffee rotation, too.""Ah, right, thanks. I'd better make a note of that. Are Gordon and Myah up to speed on the Maundy Thursday service's music? I know he normally does a choir and organ practice then, but;""Already emailed them, Simon," Jenna replied. "Relax. Everything is under control.""Choir practice for you tonight? I must say, I think it was a genius idea of Gordon's to combine our church's choir with the Guild Voices, just for our Easter service. Our choir is small, so it'll be nice to have a bigger group of singers for the holiest day in our Christian calendar.""Oh yes, the bigger the better," Jenna replied with a smirk. She'd just joined the Guild Voices, a mixed-voice choir of around twenty-five singers who performed several concerts a year. The choir was formed with the aim of singing the whole range of music both accompanied and acapella; both religious and secular, from the renaissance pieces of Byrd and Tallis to great oratorios such as Handel's "Messiah." In addition to traditional works, they also performed classical versions of popular music. Jenna was enjoying the weekly recitals, and not just because of the music. The choirmaster was a chap called Derek Blackledge, and on more than one occasion, Jenna had noticed him staring at her."Last year, the Guild Voices performed at Evensong at York Minster," Reverend Morris said. "Gosh, I'm so looking forward to our Easter Sunday Service! We'll definitely have a bigger congregation than St. Peter's;""Ooh, do I sense a rivalry between churches, Simon?""Well, a bit unChristian of me to say, but I can't stand that Reverend Conway. He completely blanked me at annual clergy conference last month. I don't know what his problem is.""Not all vicars are as wonderful as you, my love."He smiled and resumed typing. "They've just got a new organist there too. Conway was raving about him. Younger bloke, seems to have the women of St. Peter's all hot and bothered. Edward, I think his name is.""Ha, he won't be anywhere near as good as Gordon is," Jenna said. "Nobody plays organ as good as he does.""I don't think it's his playing they're interested in! Apparently he resembles the actor Robert Pattinson. I suppose that's one way to get more younger people attending church services."Jenna almost dropped the cup of coffee she was holding. "Fancy that." She stifled a gasp. I can't believe it. That was the organist who played for the King at Liverpool Cathedral last year! She thought. He was a cutie for sure; had a nice cock too, as I recall. Small world. Never imagined he'd end up here in our town.The Guild Voices choir practices took place every Wednesday evening in a function room at the town hall. The room was spacious and blessed with good acoustics, a piano and a box organ. Jenna arrived earlier than normal, and gathered up her music books off the car's passenger seat."Hope none of the others are there yet," she smiled to herself.Derek Blackledge was alone in the function room, adjusting a music stand. He was a tall, stocky man, around sixty years of age. He was wearing a pale blue open-necked shirt, black trousers and rimless glasses. His buzz-cut silver hair was balding. He had a round face and a wide, flat nose, which as Jenna had overheard another member of the choir unkindly say, "made him look like he'd been bashed in the face with a frying pan." That wasn't strictly true, and Jenna didn't think him that bad looking at all. He spoke in a clipped, staccato sort of way.Derek looked up as Jenna entered the room. In the four weeks she'd been a member of the Guild Voices, the stunning redhead had certainly livened up the group of mostly boomer-age singers. Jenna was one of the most beautiful and charming women he had ever met, and he couldn't understand what she saw in her husband, the much-older Reverend Morris. The good vicar was a kind and decent chap, but seemed duller than Skegness in January."Uh; evening Jenna! You're very early! I was just;""Hello Derek. Yes, didn't realize just how early I was!""Nothing wrong with that. I admire your dedication. Would you like a brew?" He walked over to a small table in the corner of the room where there was a coffee machine and a kettle."Yes please. Tea. White, no sugar."He made some more idle chatter whilst he waited for the kettle to boil. Glancing round, he noticed she'd seated herself on a chair and crossed her legs. The black dress she was wearing was quite short and had ridden up nicely, exposing a generous amount of thigh. A most welcome sight for the long-divorced choirmaster who'd had zero success in the world of dating since going back on the market."This our last rehearsal before Easter Sunday," Derek prattled, pouring the hot water into a mug. "It just seems to have crept up all at once. I'm looking forward to performing in St Michael's Church, with your choir. I hear your organist is very good.""Oh Gordon? Yes he's brilliant. He won't let you down.""Great to hear. Now I just need to ensure that the Guild doesn't let everyone down."Looking at the stocky choirmaster whom possessed a definite lack of confidence, Jenna realized that she would have to take control of the situation if the choir was going to put on their best performance on Easter Sunday. She had always been aware of Derek's interest in her physical attributes. In fact, she could see his eyes lingering on her breasts and her bare legs crossed in front of her. Perhaps it was now time to play her trump card."I know we've had a few setbacks.""Setbacks? Do you know how much George and Alice being off sick is going to set us back? George is the best tenor we have." He handed her the mug of tea and sat opposite her."Perhaps I could do something to make things better." Jenna slowly uncrossed her legs and recrossed them, allowing her skirt to hike up her thigh watching Derek as his eyes were glued to her legs, straining to see up higher. He swallowed heavily as he shifted in his chair."Oh? Like what?""I could help relieve some of your pressure," she replied as she glanced at his crotch. The bulge tenting his black trousers already broadcasting his state of arousal.Jenna stood up and walked over to him. "You're a wonderful choirmaster, Derek. I just want you to know that. You go the extra mile and know how to bring out the best in people.""Thanks for the vote of confidence," he mumbled, turning red. He swallowed, feeling his erection straining against his trousers and underpants. It had been quite some time since a woman had got him worked up like this."Music really does bring people together," she continued."Yes, indeed it does;"Jenna leaned forward so that her face was close to his and placed her right hand on Derek's groin and squeezed. The choirmaster's voice shot up several octaves, then he let out a groan."Jah, Jenna; what are you doing?""Just inspecting your crotchets and quavers, Derek." she added naughtily. "Oh, feels like you've got a bassoon in your pants!"Before he could protest, she knelt and unzipped his black trousers, revealing his underwear - y-fronts, which had a musical notes pattern on them."Nice!" Jenna said out loud. She'd always had a fondness for men who wore y-fronts. She pulled them down, freeing his delightfully large cock. Grasping the base of the shaft, she took the bulbous head in her mouth and started to move up and down taking him deeper and deeper.Derek gasped, unable to speak. Instinctively, he grabbed the back of her head and pushed down, forcing himself deeper until he felt her lips around the base of his shaft. Holding her head, he pumped his engorged organ deep into the mouth of the vicar's wife, scarcely believing that his private fantasy was coming true. Her warm soft mouth aroused him further as he felt the blood pumping into his groin, making him harder than he could remember. He leaned back and enjoyed the incredible sensations as Jenna sucked his manhood. She was good, very good. Her husband may not have been very interesting, but bloody hell, he was a lucky bastard!Derek glanced warily at the conference room's door. At any moment, other members of the choir could come in. How the hell would he be able to explain himself?"Oh, Mrs. Morris here was just helping me with a very hard; piece of music!"As the stunning redhead continued to bob up and down in his lap, he leaned over and pulled down the top of her knit black dress to expose her pert breasts."Oh;" he sighed. "Not just; blessed with a fine voice."Jenna glanced up at him and winked."How about; I try and hit the high notes?" Derek pulled out of her mouth, stood up and turned her so that her arse was bent over his chair. He pushed his trousers and y-fronts down to his ankles. After jerking down her knickers he moved behind her, flipped up her black dress, lined himself up, then thrust abruptly into her tight wet tunnel, burying himself to the hilt."Oh God Derek, your musical instrument feels amazing!"He chuckled at this, and relished the fantastic feeling as he grasped her hips and slowly moved in and out of her hot passage, slick with her arousal. The illicit nature of the situation and doing it in a public place where they could be easily discovered added to the thrill and made both of them even more aroused. Jenna's nerves were hypersensitive and as the choirmaster plunged into her again and again she could feel the waves of pleasure build quickly.Derek slid his hands forward to cup her hanging breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples. He delighted in feeling the curved contour of the soft skin of her breasts in his hands as he pounded his rock-hard shaft into her. The pressure built quickly in his balls with the fantastic feeling of Jenna's tight vaginal walls clamped around his cock. It had been too long since he had really enjoyed such a sensuous treat and all too quickly he felt the pressure come to a head. He slammed his throbbing member as deep as he could and felt himself erupt as spurt after spurt of cum shot deep into his target.Jenna felt Derek tense and his final thrusts pushed her over the edge and she too felt waves of pleasure course through her body as she was wracked with the spasms of her orgasm."Hmm! Oh Derek! Feels so good!""Fuck; I needed that!" He sighed, slowly withdrawing and collapsing in the chair, pulling Jenna down on top of him. "Not sure if I have the energy to conduct a choir practice now!""Well you'll just have to try your best, Derek. Because I have a feeling others will be arriving soon, so you'd better get your baton out.""It's already out," he replied, taking a tissue from the box and wiping then stroking his softening cock, and pulling his underpants and trousers up. "Jenna that was; that was; lovely.""Awe, you seem so much happier now, Derek. You're a really brilliant choirmaster." She flung her arms around him and kissed him."And you; are a very dedicated member of the choir!" He stammered. "Um, well, I guess I'd better; compose myself!" He stood up and hurriedly fastened his belt. Jenna straightened her dress and pulled her knickers up.Just as Derek was zipping up the fly of his trousers, the door opened and Edna and Lawrence Draper, two members of the choir, came rushing in, as fast as they could, given that both had arthritic hips."Not too late are we Derek?" Edna said. "Only our bus was late.""Uh, not at all, plenty of time. Please, help yourselves to a hot drink whilst I get organized." Derek said. Seconds later, more people filed into the room."What piece of music have you and Derek been working on?" Lawrence asked Jenna, as he sat next to her."Oh; just some scales and arpeggios," came her reply. "We were going up and down quite a lot!"Bare feet thrill the vicar during Maundy Thursday."Brothers and Sisters. Today is Maundy Thursday, the fifth day of Holy Week. It gets its name from the Latin word 'mandare', from which we get the word 'command'. Christians remember Jesus' command: "Love one another as I have loved you."Though each of the days leading up to Easter Sunday are significant in their own ways, Maundy Thursday surrounds the events that led directly to Jesus' betrayal, arrest, and ultimately, His being put to death the next day on Good Friday."Reverend Morris continued. "The circumstances surrounding Maundy Thursday can be read in Matthew 26:17-75. The events that unfolded include the Last Supper that Jesus had with His disciples and betrayal of Jesus by Judas."The weather had become more spring-like and milder, which was a blessing to some of the older members of the congregation. March had blown in like a lion and was going out like a lamb. St Michael's church was often chilly and draughty during the winter months, even with the heating on. Today, it was pleasantly warm, helped in part due to the church being full for once.At the organ, Myah slipped her feet out of her shoes, ready to play a hymn before the start of the foot washing service. She rather liked the feel of the organ's pedalboard against her bare skin, and her feet felt hot and uncomfortable today. Earlier, she'd suffered cramp in the arch of her left foot. She reclined slightly on the stool, crossed her legs and idly flexed her toes as the vicar continued with his sermon. Gordon sat on a small bench behind her, admiring her shapely calves. He liked the way she raised her legs to slide onto the organ stool. Even more, he loved it when those legs were wrapped around him; something he was looking forward to later."Their time spent on the Mount of Olives, where Jesus prayed earnestly in the Garden of Gethsemane, and where He was ultimately betrayed with a kiss by Judas who came to seize Him with the temple guards. Peter's denial of Jesus;" Up in the pulpit, Reverend Morris glanced to his right and became more and more fixated on a certain something. One of his long-repressed kinks was rising to the surface at the most inappropriate of times. Women's feet, younger women's feet in particular, had always aroused him. He'd never told anyone about his foot fetish, not even Jenna. He'd never had such a reaction as this and certainly not during a church service. But the way his wife's cousin kept wiggling her toes like that, dear Lord, it was driving his imagination to commit all kinds of sin! It's Holy Week for heaven's sake; must fight this, he told himself."On the first day of the Festival of Unleavened Bread, the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Where do you want us to make preparations for you to eat the Passover?" The vicar's voice trembled slightly, as he struggled to remain composed.Abruptly, he noticed Myah wince and reach for her foot. The cramp had returned."What's wrong?" Gordon whispered."Damn cramp's back again," she replied. "Ah, it's agony! Can you play the hymn for me?""No problem," he said, as his girlfriend hobbled off the stool and sat on the bench. "Massage your foot slowly. Try putting it on the cold stone floor. That might help. I've gotten cramp loads of times in the past when playing. It's bloody torture!""Thanks, Gordy-Pie!"Poor Myah, Reverend Morris thought. Now he had an even better view of her bare feet. Such slim and elegant feet. So nimble against the organ's pedalboard. He took a deep breath as he imagined he was cupping the arch of her foot, his hand slotted in the tender space between the heel and the upper sole. After an awkward pause, he continued his sermon."He replied, "Go into the city to a certain man and tell him, 'The Teacher says: My appointed time is near. I am going to celebrate the Passover with my disciples at your house.'" So the disciples did as Jesus had directed them and prepared the Passover."Some young children were shifting uncomfortably in the pews."How will we show that God is King when we're tempted, to abandon the way God call us to live? Knowing God is our King should change everything but we can't change everything all at once! So what one small step of obedience can we take this week to demonstrate with our lives that God is King all of the time? Take time to pray, and then seek to obey as Jesus obeyed. Amen!"Reverend Morris ended his sermon abruptly, no doubt to the relief of many, but most importantly, to himself. He descended from the pulpit and sat down beside the organ, as a member of the choir stepped up to the lectern to do a reading. He hardly heard a word the woman said, for his eyes were fixated on Myah's bare feet. She was still gently massaging her left foot. Oh dear, this was going to be unbearable. He knew she'd volunteered to take part in the ceremonial foot washing.Myah suddenly glanced at the vicar and smiled at him. He jolted and cleared his throat, before smiling back. He could feel a familiar burning in his cheeks, not to mention a throbbing in his cock, which was now at full stand, and forcing its way up against his trousers and vestments. He had never been more grateful to be wearing a cassock and surplice. He cast his mind back to last year when he'd allowed himself to be seduced by her. All in the past of course and they'd moved on. Besides, she was blissfully happy in a relationship with Gordon. The organist had slept with Jenna on numerous occasions before Myah had come along. Hmm, well best not to dwell on that tangled web of carnal relations right now.The reading came to an end and everyone stood up. "Please stand for our hymn, Sweet Sacrament Divine." Reverend Morris said, his voice faltering.On the front row of pews, Jenna tilted her head at her husband's shaky delivery, wondering what was wrong with him. It wasn't like Simon to be nervous when speaking in front of an audience. Something was bothering him though. She could see a line of sweat above his upper lip and a blush on his cheeks.After the hymn, came the ceremonial washing of feet, a reminder of how Jesus served others. As Myah sat before the vicar, her delicate hands folded in prayer, he could feel his heart race with anticipation. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves, and began to wash her feet, using a soft, damp cloth to clean each toe, each inch of her soles. As his fingers brushed against her skin, he felt a surge of desire course through him, making it difficult to concentrate on anything but the feel of her feet against his palms. His erection began to ache, straining against his clothing, and he fought the urge to reach down and adjust himself, lest he give anything away.

In this episode of Love and Murder: Heartbreak to Homicide, Ky tells you about the case of Ellen Marshall, a woman who endured unimaginable pain and suffering at the hands of her boyfriend, Leigh Pateman. What began as a domestic argument in Skegness, Lancashire, spiraled into a horrific act of violence that left Ellen fighting for her life. Join us as we explore the details of this case, the courtroom proceedings, and the impact on Ellen's family.Question: Do you believe Lee's alcoholism is a valid excuse for his actions?Share your thoughts on this case in the comments below. Patreon Special: Don't miss our December sale—50% off your first month on any Patreon tier! Gain access to exclusive content, ad-free episodes, and more. Join us at patreon.com/loveandmurder.00:00 Firefighters were called out to a house with smoke coming out of it06:10 Lee had a history of threatening Ellen with violence before the attack13:39 Personal minutiaDon't forget to share this episode with everyone you know and everyone you don't—spread the word and help us grow the Love and Murder community!Sources:https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/ceqdpw1eej2o?xtor=AL-72-%5Bpartner%5D-%5Bmicrosoft%5D-%5Blink%5D-%5Bnews%5D-%5Bbizdev%5D-%5Bisapi%5Dhttps://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c245zd2g086o?xtor=AL-72-%5Bpartner%5D-%5Bmicrosoft%5D-%5Blink%5D-%5Bnews%5D-%5Bbizdev%5D-%5Bisapi%5Dhttps://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cy9qegy7y32o Don't forget to share this in text with your friends and on Reddit************************************************************************************************Support these businesses; support LaM:BJs - Save $35 on a yearly membership with my link: www.murderandlove.com/BJsPATREON SALE - Save 50% off of your first month on any tier until 12-31-2024✨✨For a commercial-free episode, pictures, and more head to our exclusive group at www.patreon.com/loveandmurder✨✨Podcast Promo: Darkcast Network www.darkcastnetwork.com*************************************************************************************************

Vicar's wife, Jenna, decides to give up sex for Lent!A series in 17 parts, by Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.  The Jenna series started  with ‘Jenna Goes To Church', followed shortly after with ‘Jenna, the Vicar's Wife'. It resumed recently with Jenna's New Year'; and now it continues with a Lentil 2-part story. Other episodes will follow.It was the last Sunday of Shrovetide, known as Quinquagesima. At St. Michael's Church, Reverend Morris had amassed a pile of old palm crosses, intending to burn them on Ash Wednesday."Shouldn't be long before the first members of the faithful arrive," he said to his wife Jenna, who was adjusting the flowers at the side of the pulpit."Oh before I forget, I've got something for you to burn on Ash Wednesday," she smiled, handing him a pair of her panties."This is an unusual-looking palm cross!" He replied. "I think I'd better burn this separately from the others! Is there some reason why you want your undies reduced to ash?""Well Simon, I've been thinking. And I've finally decided what I'm going to give up for Lent.""You're giving up wearing underwear?""Ha-ha. Tempting, but no. I'm giving up sex."Reverend Morris almost dropped the box full of crosses. "What? Sex? No, you can't be serious!"Jenna nodded. "I'm 100% serious, my love. Lent is supposed to be hard, and you're always going on about how part of being a good Christian is making sacrifices and so on. It's traditionally a time of fasting and abstaining from something to repent and focus our hearts and minds on the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.""Yes, but within reason, Jen! I don't expect you to suffer hardship as bad as that!""I can do it, Simon. I'm committed to seeing it through. It's only forty days.""B-but, that's six weeks!" the vicar whined, looking as if his entire world was about to end. "I, I'm not sure I can, er, go without for so long!""Now Simon, you're a man of God. You're stronger than most. I know you can do this. And just think how wonderful it will be when Easter comes, everything in calf, bursting out in spring glory, sap rising, mating seasons beginning, shoots thrusting upwards, days getting longer, ""Vicars dying of horniness, " Reverend Morris sighed."Exactly. And it won't just be you going without. The other chaps of this church will have to go without as well!""Oh my goodness, Jenna. There's going to be a lot of frustration building up in this church! When you say no sex, does that mean, ""No physical contact whatsoever, my dearest! No blowjobs, no kissing, no cock in cunt, nada! Just like social distancing."Reverend Morris' lip was trembling. "Not even a kiss?""Nope. I'll be sleeping in the spare bedroom until Easter. I can blow you a kiss. And whilst we can't do anything involving physical contact, there are other naughty ways we can get through Lent.""Like what?""Use your imagination, Simon!"He thought for a moment. "So I'll have to make do with dating Rosie Palms until Easter?""If it helps you cope, yes!"The reverend took a deep breath. "You're absolutely right, Jenna. I can get through this. I admire you so much for deciding to have a sex ban. In fact, I think I love you even more, and I didn't think that possible!""Aww. Ditto." She kissed him. "We'll make the most of Shrove Tuesday," she added, with a wink. "I'm going to do some creative things with pancakes."He slipped his arms around her. "Remember that morning after the Candlemas service, when we got soaking wet in the rain and we just ravished each other once we got back to the vicarage?""Hee hee, yes. Or that time last month during that short holiday in Lincolnshire when we stayed in that weird hotel, and the ghost gatecrashed our passion?""Bit early in the morning for that, isn't it? Then again, I'm not complaining!" A voice shouted, and they both looked round. Gordon the organist had just arrived.Moments later, Josh the curate appeared."Morning guys!" Jenna smiled. She turned back to her husband. "You'd better get your robes on. Looks like some of the congregation are here already. I'll go and hand out some hymn books."He nodded and headed off to the vestry. "Forty days," he sighed. "God, .I will really need your help through this difficult time!"And just how were some of the other male members of St. Michael's Church going to cope for forty days without any 'spiritual guidance' from the vicar's wife?Shrove Tuesday (the eve of Lent)On Shrove Tuesday, Jenna spent all afternoon mixing pancake batter. It would've been quicker to buy some ready-made pancakes from Tesco, but where was the fun in that? She looked at the kitchen wall clock."Come on Simon, you're late. How long does a meeting with the Bishop take?"Her husband had been out all day. At last, she heard his car pull up on the drive."Good. Now the fun begins."The front door opened and Reverend Morris came rushing in. "Sorry I've been so long. Bishop George kept prattling on for ages and then coming back home there's been a road accident so I had to take the long way home, oh I see you've been busy!" He noticed his wife was completely naked except for an apron."Welcome home," she smirked. "It's time to flip some pancakes. Is my randy reverend able to provide some batter?"He licked his lips. "What sort of batter would you be requiring?""Hmm, let's see. That special 'anointing oil' you used during my 21st birthday?" She whirled a frying pan in her hand and flipped a pancake. "Here's one I prepared earlier."His hands found her shoulders, and turned her to face him. His hands moved up to cup her face and Jenna felt his lips close around hers in a tender kiss. She returned it with rising passion, slipping her tongue into his mouth. As their tongues danced, Jenna quickly unfastened her apron, letting it slide down over her smooth skin to the kitchen floor.She could hear Reverend Morris unfastening his own garments, and when he embraced her tightly, she felt his bare skin press against hers with delicious warmth. Her husband's mouth left her lips, trailing down her neck to her chest. He took a nipple in his mouth and teased the erect tip. It was perhaps the upcoming sex ban enhancing his senses, but Jenna's breasts had never felt so full, and had never tasted so sweet. His hands roamed down over her arse, savoring her curves.Reverend Morris moved back up her body, his lips playing over her breasts, then back up her neck. Jenna's hands slid down his chest and at last reached their goal. She gripped his throbbing member, took a few steps backward, pulling gently but firmly, and he promptly followed her. She felt the edge of the kitchen countertop meet her lower back, and she swiftly heaved herself on to the cool granite surface and lay back, spreading her legs.Reverend Morris had a sudden urge to taste his wife; his tongue met with her soft skin just above her clit, then down into her folds, tasting, discovering and exploring all that she had to offer. He began to suck and lick her clit. How he loved to worship at this altar.Jenna reached for the bowl of pancake batter. A wooden spoon was sticking out of the bowl. Without hesitation, she began spooning the batter down her breasts."It tastes alright," she murmured, placing a blob of batter on her husband's nose. "But it needs an extra ingredient, ""Umm, I think I can help you there.""Fuck me religiously, darling." Jenna said hoarsely.A pair of strong, silky legs wrapped around the vicar's arse. He lowered himself onto her and felt those glorious batter-coated breasts rub against his chest as he began thrusting into her. He tried to set a steady, leisurely pace to begin, but the legs around him urged him on faster and harder. Reverend Morris responded with enthusiasm, and within moments he was pounding into his wife with all his strength, mindful that after tonight he wouldn't be able to do this for six weeks."Yes, yes, oh my God yes, I've never felt anything like it!" Jenna moaned."Bloody hell, I'm coming, oh Jenna!" Reverend Morris yelled as his stream of hot cum filled up her cunt and flowed back out onto the kitchen countertop.Jenna lay back on the countertop, eyes closed. It was several minutes before her breathing had calmed enough for her to speak."Did I provide enough batter?" Reverend Morris asked."Your holy offering was more than generous!""Forty days without from this moment on. You've still time to change your mind.""I'm sticking to it, Simon. We'll get through Lent. We'll have to think up some creative contactless ways to get our rocks off."The smell of burning interrupted them. They both glanced at the stove. To Jenna's dismay, the pancake she'd been cooking had been virtually cremated in the frying pan."Oh dear," she said, gazing at the remains of the pancake, which now resembled a lump of coal."Now that's what I call a perfect burnt offering for Ash Wednesday!" Reverend Morris replied.The Organist is Entertained.Gordon Leesmith always looked forward to Thursday evening arriving. This was when he had organ practice at church, and for the past few months he'd been teaching Jenna to play the organ. These lessons were really just an excuse for a passionate romp with the stunning vicar's wife, who was always more than willing to get her hands on the organ in his trousers, rather than the church one.Gordon hummed to himself as he brewed himself a cup of tea. He checked the time. It was only just after midday. Six hours to go. He was impatient and horny, but in a very happy mood. He'd just returned from seeing his Primary Care physician. That in itself something of a miracle in modern Britain; and received good news. His benign prostate enlargement wasn't as bad as he'd feared. Despite being a bit overweight, the doctor had given him a clean bill of health. His blood pressure was low, and so was his cholesterol.Today was his birthday. He was fifty six. A year ago, Gordon had been a miserable, short-tempered man who didn't endear himself to anyone else in the church. Long-divorced, impotent and frustrated with being alone for so long, his life had turned upside down when a young woman by the name of Jenna Fox had started attending St. Michael's Church. A few months later, she'd turned her attentions to flirting with him. Never in a million years did Gordon think he'd end up getting his cock sucked by a stunning redhead whilst he sat on the organ stool.As Gordon sipped his tea, his phone vibrated."Oh, an email from Jenna," he smiled, checking the message.Happy Birthday Gordon! About tonight. I'm afraid I can't make tonight's organ practice. I won't be able to until Easter arrives. Thing is, I've chosen to give up sex for Lent. I know you won't to hear this and it's going to be so hard for me to stick to this, but you've got to test yourself and set a challenge, right? It's what being a Christian is all about. I truly hope you'll understand. But - that doesn't mean we can't still have some fun! Make sure you visit the church - I've left a birthday present for you on the organ stool, trust me, it'll see you through this hard time. And when Easter comes, Jesus won't be the only person that rises, wink wink. It'll be worth the wait, keep your organ pipe warm for me.Love Jenna. xxx"She's abstaining from sex?" Gordon almost dropped his cup of tea. "Wait, what? Oh no! This is a nightmare! I won't be able to have a fuck for six weeks? Bloody hell! I'll go round the bend, I can't even call on Yulia's mate Martika anymore. Damn it, why did she have to bugger off back to Ukraine?"He wasn't sure whether to scream or burst into tears, but after he overcame the initial shock, he took a deep breath and composed himself.

Vicar's wife, Jenna, decides to give up sex for Lent!A series in 17 parts, by Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.  The Jenna series started  with ‘Jenna Goes To Church', followed shortly after with ‘Jenna, the Vicar's Wife'. It resumed recently with Jenna's New Year'; and now it continues with a Lentil 2-part story. Other episodes will follow.It was the last Sunday of Shrovetide, known as Quinquagesima. At St. Michael's Church, Reverend Morris had amassed a pile of old palm crosses, intending to burn them on Ash Wednesday."Shouldn't be long before the first members of the faithful arrive," he said to his wife Jenna, who was adjusting the flowers at the side of the pulpit."Oh before I forget, I've got something for you to burn on Ash Wednesday," she smiled, handing him a pair of her panties."This is an unusual-looking palm cross!" He replied. "I think I'd better burn this separately from the others! Is there some reason why you want your undies reduced to ash?""Well Simon, I've been thinking. And I've finally decided what I'm going to give up for Lent.""You're giving up wearing underwear?""Ha-ha. Tempting, but no. I'm giving up sex."Reverend Morris almost dropped the box full of crosses. "What? Sex? No, you can't be serious!"Jenna nodded. "I'm 100% serious, my love. Lent is supposed to be hard, and you're always going on about how part of being a good Christian is making sacrifices and so on. It's traditionally a time of fasting and abstaining from something to repent and focus our hearts and minds on the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.""Yes, but within reason, Jen! I don't expect you to suffer hardship as bad as that!""I can do it, Simon. I'm committed to seeing it through. It's only forty days.""B-but, that's six weeks!" the vicar whined, looking as if his entire world was about to end. "I, I'm not sure I can, er, go without for so long!""Now Simon, you're a man of God. You're stronger than most. I know you can do this. And just think how wonderful it will be when Easter comes, everything in calf, bursting out in spring glory, sap rising, mating seasons beginning, shoots thrusting upwards, days getting longer, ""Vicars dying of horniness, " Reverend Morris sighed."Exactly. And it won't just be you going without. The other chaps of this church will have to go without as well!""Oh my goodness, Jenna. There's going to be a lot of frustration building up in this church! When you say no sex, does that mean, ""No physical contact whatsoever, my dearest! No blowjobs, no kissing, no cock in cunt, nada! Just like social distancing."Reverend Morris' lip was trembling. "Not even a kiss?""Nope. I'll be sleeping in the spare bedroom until Easter. I can blow you a kiss. And whilst we can't do anything involving physical contact, there are other naughty ways we can get through Lent.""Like what?""Use your imagination, Simon!"He thought for a moment. "So I'll have to make do with dating Rosie Palms until Easter?""If it helps you cope, yes!"The reverend took a deep breath. "You're absolutely right, Jenna. I can get through this. I admire you so much for deciding to have a sex ban. In fact, I think I love you even more, and I didn't think that possible!""Aww. Ditto." She kissed him. "We'll make the most of Shrove Tuesday," she added, with a wink. "I'm going to do some creative things with pancakes."He slipped his arms around her. "Remember that morning after the Candlemas service, when we got soaking wet in the rain and we just ravished each other once we got back to the vicarage?""Hee hee, yes. Or that time last month during that short holiday in Lincolnshire when we stayed in that weird hotel, and the ghost gatecrashed our passion?""Bit early in the morning for that, isn't it? Then again, I'm not complaining!" A voice shouted, and they both looked round. Gordon the organist had just arrived.Moments later, Josh the curate appeared."Morning guys!" Jenna smiled. She turned back to her husband. "You'd better get your robes on. Looks like some of the congregation are here already. I'll go and hand out some hymn books."He nodded and headed off to the vestry. "Forty days," he sighed. "God, .I will really need your help through this difficult time!"And just how were some of the other male members of St. Michael's Church going to cope for forty days without any 'spiritual guidance' from the vicar's wife?Shrove Tuesday (the eve of Lent)On Shrove Tuesday, Jenna spent all afternoon mixing pancake batter. It would've been quicker to buy some ready-made pancakes from Tesco, but where was the fun in that? She looked at the kitchen wall clock."Come on Simon, you're late. How long does a meeting with the Bishop take?"Her husband had been out all day. At last, she heard his car pull up on the drive."Good. Now the fun begins."The front door opened and Reverend Morris came rushing in. "Sorry I've been so long. Bishop George kept prattling on for ages and then coming back home there's been a road accident so I had to take the long way home, oh I see you've been busy!" He noticed his wife was completely naked except for an apron."Welcome home," she smirked. "It's time to flip some pancakes. Is my randy reverend able to provide some batter?"He licked his lips. "What sort of batter would you be requiring?""Hmm, let's see. That special 'anointing oil' you used during my 21st birthday?" She whirled a frying pan in her hand and flipped a pancake. "Here's one I prepared earlier."His hands found her shoulders, and turned her to face him. His hands moved up to cup her face and Jenna felt his lips close around hers in a tender kiss. She returned it with rising passion, slipping her tongue into his mouth. As their tongues danced, Jenna quickly unfastened her apron, letting it slide down over her smooth skin to the kitchen floor.She could hear Reverend Morris unfastening his own garments, and when he embraced her tightly, she felt his bare skin press against hers with delicious warmth. Her husband's mouth left her lips, trailing down her neck to her chest. He took a nipple in his mouth and teased the erect tip. It was perhaps the upcoming sex ban enhancing his senses, but Jenna's breasts had never felt so full, and had never tasted so sweet. His hands roamed down over her arse, savoring her curves.Reverend Morris moved back up her body, his lips playing over her breasts, then back up her neck. Jenna's hands slid down his chest and at last reached their goal. She gripped his throbbing member, took a few steps backward, pulling gently but firmly, and he promptly followed her. She felt the edge of the kitchen countertop meet her lower back, and she swiftly heaved herself on to the cool granite surface and lay back, spreading her legs.Reverend Morris had a sudden urge to taste his wife; his tongue met with her soft skin just above her clit, then down into her folds, tasting, discovering and exploring all that she had to offer. He began to suck and lick her clit. How he loved to worship at this altar.Jenna reached for the bowl of pancake batter. A wooden spoon was sticking out of the bowl. Without hesitation, she began spooning the batter down her breasts."It tastes alright," she murmured, placing a blob of batter on her husband's nose. "But it needs an extra ingredient, ""Umm, I think I can help you there.""Fuck me religiously, darling." Jenna said hoarsely.A pair of strong, silky legs wrapped around the vicar's arse. He lowered himself onto her and felt those glorious batter-coated breasts rub against his chest as he began thrusting into her. He tried to set a steady, leisurely pace to begin, but the legs around him urged him on faster and harder. Reverend Morris responded with enthusiasm, and within moments he was pounding into his wife with all his strength, mindful that after tonight he wouldn't be able to do this for six weeks."Yes, yes, oh my God yes, I've never felt anything like it!" Jenna moaned."Bloody hell, I'm coming, oh Jenna!" Reverend Morris yelled as his stream of hot cum filled up her cunt and flowed back out onto the kitchen countertop.Jenna lay back on the countertop, eyes closed. It was several minutes before her breathing had calmed enough for her to speak."Did I provide enough batter?" Reverend Morris asked."Your holy offering was more than generous!""Forty days without from this moment on. You've still time to change your mind.""I'm sticking to it, Simon. We'll get through Lent. We'll have to think up some creative contactless ways to get our rocks off."The smell of burning interrupted them. They both glanced at the stove. To Jenna's dismay, the pancake she'd been cooking had been virtually cremated in the frying pan."Oh dear," she said, gazing at the remains of the pancake, which now resembled a lump of coal."Now that's what I call a perfect burnt offering for Ash Wednesday!" Reverend Morris replied.The Organist is Entertained.Gordon Leesmith always looked forward to Thursday evening arriving. This was when he had organ practice at church, and for the past few months he'd been teaching Jenna to play the organ. These lessons were really just an excuse for a passionate romp with the stunning vicar's wife, who was always more than willing to get her hands on the organ in his trousers, rather than the church one.Gordon hummed to himself as he brewed himself a cup of tea. He checked the time. It was only just after midday. Six hours to go. He was impatient and horny, but in a very happy mood. He'd just returned from seeing his Primary Care physician. That in itself something of a miracle in modern Britain; and received good news. His benign prostate enlargement wasn't as bad as he'd feared. Despite being a bit overweight, the doctor had given him a clean bill of health. His blood pressure was low, and so was his cholesterol.Today was his birthday. He was fifty six. A year ago, Gordon had been a miserable, short-tempered man who didn't endear himself to anyone else in the church. Long-divorced, impotent and frustrated with being alone for so long, his life had turned upside down when a young woman by the name of Jenna Fox had started attending St. Michael's Church. A few months later, she'd turned her attentions to flirting with him. Never in a million years did Gordon think he'd end up getting his cock sucked by a stunning redhead whilst he sat on the organ stool.As Gordon sipped his tea, his phone vibrated."Oh, an email from Jenna," he smiled, checking the message.Happy Birthday Gordon! About tonight. I'm afraid I can't make tonight's organ practice. I won't be able to until Easter arrives. Thing is, I've chosen to give up sex for Lent. I know you won't to hear this and it's going to be so hard for me to stick to this, but you've got to test yourself and set a challenge, right? It's what being a Christian is all about. I truly hope you'll understand. But - that doesn't mean we can't still have some fun! Make sure you visit the church - I've left a birthday present for you on the organ stool, trust me, it'll see you through this hard time. And when Easter comes, Jesus won't be the only person that rises, wink wink. It'll be worth the wait, keep your organ pipe warm for me.Love Jenna. xxx"She's abstaining from sex?" Gordon almost dropped his cup of tea. "Wait, what? Oh no! This is a nightmare! I won't be able to have a fuck for six weeks? Bloody hell! I'll go round the bend, I can't even call on Yulia's mate Martika anymore. Damn it, why did she have to bugger off back to Ukraine?"He wasn't sure whether to scream or burst into tears, but after he overcame the initial shock, he took a deep breath and composed himself.

What happens when MPs stop being MPs? With hundreds of Parliamentarians having left the Commons this summer following Labour's landslide victory, what happens to all those turfed out of their seats? Three former Conservative MPs; Vicky Ford, ex-MP for Chelmsford, James Sunderland, who represented Bracknell, and Matt Warman, the former member for Boston and Skegness, join host Alain Tolhurst to discuss if there is enough support, both financial and pastoral, in helping them move on with their lives, how easy is it to find a new career outside Westminster, and do we have the wrong impression about what life is like for ex-MPs? To sign up for our newsletters click here Presented by Alain Tolhurst, produced by Ewan Cameron for Podot

This week David and Jack present The Showman, the Diver, and the Padre from Benjamin Peel and Breakwater Theatre Company. The Showman, the Diver and the Padre was part of a series of Yesteryear Plays written by Benjamin Peel and produced for the 2020 SOfa Fest by Breakwater Theatre. They explored various historical events that took place in the seaside resort of Skegness, Lincolnshire in the UK. They can all be heard here: https://www.sofestival.org/main-programme-presenting-the-past/ “I hope that the Skegness crowds will be rather more receptive to me than the somewhat vulgar Blackpool ones.” It is March 1936 and Billy Butlin is frantically trying to get his first-holiday camp in Skegness ready and open on time. For reasons of their own, both Leslie Gadsby, a dare-devil high diver and Harold Davidson, the defrocked ex-Vicar of Stiffkey have turned up hoping to be taken on as acts. This audio drama imagines a fictional encounter between the three men. Cast Billy Butlin – Stacey Gough Harold Davidson – Edward Peel Lesley Gadsby – Dan Blacow Little Jimmy/Bunco Kid – John Hewer Writer – Benjamin Peel Produced by Sara Beasley and Jack Pudsey Sound Producer – Jack Pudsey Director – Sara Beasley. Butlin's Chalet Image Photograph By Mr M Evison, CC BY-SA 2.0,  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This week David and Jack present The Showman, the Diver, and the Padre from Benjamin Peel and Breakwater Theatre Company. The Showman, the Diver and the Padre was part of a series of Yesteryear Plays written by Benjamin Peel and produced for the 2020 SOfa Fest by Breakwater Theatre. They explored various historical events that took place in the seaside resort of Skegness, Lincolnshire in the UK. They can all be heard here: https://www.sofestival.org/main-programme-presenting-the-past/ “I hope that the Skegness crowds will be rather more receptive to me than the somewhat vulgar Blackpool ones.” It is March 1936 and Billy Butlin is frantically trying to get his first-holiday camp in Skegness ready and open on time. For reasons of their own, both Leslie Gadsby, a dare-devil high diver and Harold Davidson, the defrocked ex-Vicar of Stiffkey have turned up hoping to be taken on as acts. This audio drama imagines a fictional encounter between the three men. Cast Billy Butlin – Stacey Gough Harold Davidson – Edward Peel Lesley Gadsby – Dan Blacow Little Jimmy/Bunco Kid – John Hewer Writer – Benjamin Peel Produced by Sara Beasley and Jack Pudsey Sound Producer – Jack Pudsey Director – Sara Beasley. Butlin's Chalet Image Photograph By Mr M Evison, CC BY-SA 2.0,  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Derby Theatre is to present a new play, Welfare, by local playwright Abi Zakarian, that will take audiences to The Derbyshire Miners' Holiday Camp in Skegness, where miners went initially to convalesce and later to holiday, as it was turned into a holiday camp for Derbyshire miners and their families. Midlands Editor Steve Orme spoke to director Sarah Brigham and three of the actors, Jo Mousley, Hanna Winter and John Holt-Roberts, about the play and about the history behind it, both local and from much further afield. Welfare will run at Derby Theatre from 28 September to 12 October 2024. (Photo Jo Mousley, Hanna Winter, Sarah Brigham and John Holt-Roberts, credit Steve Orme)

In this episode, we dive into the fascinating world of seals with Daisy and Matt Yeadon from Skegness Natureland, one of the world's pioneering seal sanctuaries. With over three generations of experience, Natureland has been dedicated to rescuing and rehabilitating seal pups, ensuring they return to their natural habitat in peak health. We explore the incredible work they do along the Lincolnshire coast, home to both Harbour and Gray seals. Daisy and Matt share captivating stories of their efforts, the challenges they face, and the joy of watching these adorable creatures thrive once more. Plus, for a touch of humor, young Waylon Henry Kyle closes the show with a delightful joke that's sure to bring a smile! www.furrealpodcast.com         www.skegnessnatureland.co.uk ig @thefurrealpodcast             @skegness_natureland fb the fur real podcast              Skegness Natureland Seal Sanctuary tik tok @the furrealpodcast Speical thanks to J Jig Cicero @jjigcicero for our music intro and outro..you rock!!! Special thanks to Jake Olson  jfolson.music@gmail.com for awesome sound editing  and to our supporters: www.prepvet.com  Stem cells for pets www.letswalkaustin.com www.letswalkhouston.com  www.letswalkdenver.com Pet walking and more!    

Today we're joined by a proper legend of the industry in multi-award winning chef and cookbook writer Ben Tish, who takes us through his remarkable career which started off in Skegness working with Jason Atherton in an unappreciated fine dining restaurant and has ended up 25 years later with him being one of the most respected chefs in the country. From being physically bullied by Marcus Wareing to working alongside some of the greatest chefs in culinary history to opening the critically acclaimed 'Norma' and writing some of the most read cookbooks globally, Ben has lived through it all and today reveals all the highs and lows in his journey and of course all his greatest previously untold stories! ---------------- DELLI is a food platform, from the team behind Depop, that sells the best independent food and drink products that other shops don't really know about. Head to www.delli.market and discover the thousands of creative products dropping daily and use the code GOTODELLI for 25% off everything from us. Order Bens latest cookbook ‘Mediterra' here - https://www.bloomsbury.com/uk/mediterra-9781526661128/

EP53 - Harriet Dyer - Watership-CrownJoining us on the AllMadeUp sofa is comedian - Harriet DyerSynopsis: Watership-CrownEight years ago, Butlins Redcoat Sally-Anna sent her child, Crusher, downriver in a basket. Abandoned by their father, the king of Holland, Crusher found refuge among rabbits in a Skegness warren. Raised in seclusion, Crusher's understanding of the world above blurred. Discovering an IKEA instructions booklet, Crusher set out to uncover their true identity. Encountering fingerless friends and fire-breathing rabbits, Crusher eventually found their long-lost mother. This journey taught Crusher resilience, friendship, and the importance of knowing one's story. "Watership-Crown" is an AllMadeUp tale like you've never heard before.Wanna follow Harriet Dyer…Insta:@harrietdyercomedyhttps://www.instagram.com/harrietdyercomedy/ Wanna follow Harry Stachini…Insta: @HarrystandupFB: @Harrystachinicomedian YouTube: @HarrystachiniTwitter: @HstachiniThe Staff Room PodcastWanna follow Lewis Coleman…Insta: @lewiscolemanTwitter: @LewisColeman93Wanna follow Ben Hart…Insta: @benhartcomedyFB: @benhartactorTwitter: @benhart0592CreditsRecorded by Lewis ColemanEdited by Clementine Bogg-Hargroves Produced by @GetGiddierArtwork by Elliot @melodyleeart Soundtrack by @grahammccuskerThe All Made Up Podcast is brought to you by aDrop.ai, the tool that allows you to generate passive income through Airdrops. What are Airdrops? Airdrops are free incentives from cryptocurrencies which reward you for interacting and using their application. Set up your new revenue stream today! Sign up for the aDrop.ai white list to make sure they can invite you to join the Private Beta!All Made Up is proudly sponsored by - No Mind Collective. Liverpool's top street wear brand. Whether it's t-shirts, hoodies or bandannas they're all about unique designs and top quality clobber. Use promo code - allmadeup - at check out for 10% on your next purchase. www.nomindcollective.com #NewPodcast #ComedyPodcast #Rabbits #Skegness #Butlins #Family #Holland #Royalfamily #AllMadeUp Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Rerun: The first holiday camp in Britain, Butlin's Skegness, opened to the public on 11th April, 1936 - although one member of the public, a certain Freda Monk from Nottingham, was so keen to attend that she arrived a day early. It cost 35 shillings per week to attend.  South Africa-born Billy Butlin had created the camp after holidaying in Barry Island and feeling “sorry for the families with young children as they trudged along wet and bedgraggled, and forlornly filled time in amusement arcades until they could return back to the boarding houses.” In this episode, Arion, Rebecca and Olly review the entertainments on offer, from rambunctious Redcoats to boxing kangaroos; explain how The Beatles owe a debt to Butlin's Skegness; and reveal the sad fate of the park's famous monorail…  Further Reading: • ‘'Our True Intent Is All For Your Delight' - Glorious Pictures of the Skegness Butlin's' (Flashbak, 2019): https://flashbak.com/our-true-intent-is-all-for-your-delight-butlins-at-skegness-17646 • ‘The mystery of how an old Butlin's monorail train ended up in this Lincolnshire field' (Lincolnshire Live, 2021): https://www.lincolnshirelive.co.uk/news/local-news/mystery-how-old-butlins-monorail-5059270 • ‘Best of Butlin's' (British Pathé): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGZoqkZUFtA ‘Why am I hearing a rerun?' Every Thursday is 'Throwback Thursday' on Today in History with the Retrospectors: running one repeat per week means we can keep up the quality of our independent podcast. Daily shows like this require a lot of work! But as ever we'll have something new for you tomorrow, so follow us wherever you get your podcasts: podfollow.com/Retrospectors Love the show? Join 

Adrian and Dave are back, sadly due to illness, our guest postponed and after 78 messages to random folk, including the reigning haggis throwing champion of Skegness, we were unable to organise a replacement. So as is most cases when we are left alone, it's bound to be a tad random....Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-big-detecting-show--3690873/support.

Part 2 of episode 195, following our technical hitch.Adrian and Dave are back, sadly due to illness, our guest postponed and after 78 messages to random folk, including the reigning haggis throwing champion of Skegness, we were unable to organise a replacement. So as is most cases when we are left alone, it's bound to be a tad random....Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-big-detecting-show--3690873/support.

On this special episode of UKICE (I Tell), we have a live recording of our latest Unlocked event with Deputy Chairman of the Conservative One Nation group, MP for Boston and Skegness and former Technology Editor of the Daily Telegraph, Matt Warman. Matt sat down with Professor Anand Menon to discuss his views on the Government's Rwanda Bill, if Rishi Sunak can ‘stop the boats', his party's chances as we head toward the next election, and whether the future of the Conservative Party lies in the centre ground of politics. You can watch the event on our YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MG-fW18RI-o

"If you're a bird then I'm a bird" Episode 33 of Absolute Cuts sees hosts Mark Nelson and Ryan Cullen discuss the 2004, emotionally manipulating, care home dying, too many birding film The Notebook. Mark and Ryan talk about Tenerife, Skegness and whether Henry Cavill is better looking than Ryan Gosling.  Please get in touch and let us know if you enjoy the podcast, what guests you'd like to see on in future episodes and to suggest a film. Email : absolutecutspodcast@gmail.com You can follow the podcast on social media here - Twitter : @AbsoluteCuts Instagram : @AbsoluteCutsPod   Please leave a 5 star rating and review if you have enjoyed and recommend us to anyone you think might enjoy the pod.   The Absolute Cuts soundtrack can be found here :  https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7y4PQxrbJk7PJLz3IJKIot?si=1d999a719b17409b   You can also find both Nelson and Cullen at the various places below -    Mark Links Twitter : @marknelsoncomic Instagram : @marknelsoncomic Facebook : MarkNelsonComic Youtube : Mark Nelson - YouTube DEBUT TOUR TICKETS : marknelsoncomic | Twitter, Instagram, Facebook | Linktree   Ryan Links Twitter : @RyanCullen90 Instagram : @ryancullen90 Tik Tok : @ryancullencomedy Bookings : ryancullen90 | Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, TikTok | Linktree

Email Us: TheDayAfter@THENEWBLXCK.com WhatsAPP: 07564841073 Join us in our twitter community - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://shorturl.at/jkrNQ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ The Day After, (00:00) Intro: (13:43) Headlines: Grenfell families say fight for justice has parallels with Post Office IT scandal, Lord Cameron tells Iranian minister Red Sea raids 'must end', Netanyahu tells US he opposes creation of Palestinian state after Gaza war (16:51) What You Saying? Racism in 2024: Is ‘UK Beast' the new ‘Monkey'!??

Jordan is sporting a golden tan as he returns to the studio jet-lagged from his holiday to Skegness. Meanwhile, William has been having fun with "Cardboardan North" and Mikey's wondering where they'll be interred. Plus there are dilemmas about hanging around after paying the bill, whether you need to be good looking to get a job on the river and how to deal with a boss who's seen you "keg yourself". Join Sexted Extra and laugh along to William Hanson and Jordan North helping you navigate the challenges of modern life ad free at https://plus.acast.com/s/sextedmyboss. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

After discovering William's got more followers than he does and with a to-do list longer than his dressing gown belt, Jordan's in desperate need of a holiday (destination: Skegness). But he's not the only one with problems as the boys tackle your dilemmas on lending books to friends, disagreements on heating requirements with housemates, and deciding when's the right time to drop the L bomb. Join Sexted Extra and laugh along to William Hanson and Jordan North helping you navigate the challenges of modern life ad free at https://plus.acast.com/s/sextedmyboss. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In episode 286 UNP founder and curator Grant Scott is in his shed reflecting on themes that those dealing with AI and photography are focusing on and the homogenisation of the photo book. Plus this week, photographer Bill Stephenson takes on the challenge of supplying Grant with an audio file no longer than 5 minutes in length in which he answer's the question ‘What Does Photography Mean to You?' Bill Stephenson was born in 1955 in Birmingham, but spent his teenage school years growing up in Leeds. After studying for his A levels he wanted to work in a creative industry, and enrolled on the Furniture Design course at Trent Polytechnic, Nottingham. During the course he was required to complete a short photography block. As soon as he started creating images with a camera, he knew this was the career he had been looking for and resigned from the Furniture Design course. Unable to join the photography course as he was ineligible to receive a student grant he began working as a tyre fitter, van delivery driver and a photographer at Butlins Holiday Camp, Skegness in 1977. The following year he sent a small portfolio of photographs to the British Journal of Photography which was published. This led to an invitation from the Communication Arts, BA (Hons) Fine Art Degree course at Sheffield City Polytechnic to consider applying to join the course. He quickly developed a passion and commitment for photographing and recording communities of people who are often over looked, neglected, marginalised or considered unimportant. He has continued to work on commissioned social documentary photography projects alongside a successful commercial photography business before semi-retiring in 2021. He currently lives in Derbyshire, UK. https://billstephenson.co.uk This podcast is also available on Spotify, Google and Apple podcasts as well as wherever you usually get your podcasts. Dr. Grant Scott is the founder/curator of United Nations of Photography, a Senior Lecturer and Subject Co-ordinator: Photography at Oxford Brookes University, Oxford, a working photographer, documentary filmmaker, BBC Radio contributor and the author of Professional Photography: The New Global Landscape Explained (Routledge 2014), The Essential Student Guide to Professional Photography (Routledge 2015), New Ways of Seeing: The Democratic Language of Photography (Routledge 2019). His film Do Not Bend: The Photographic Life of Bill Jay was first screened in 2018 www.donotbendfilm.com. He is the presenter of the A Photographic Life and In Search of Bill Jay podcasts. Scott's next book is Inside Vogue House: One building, seven magazines, sixty years of stories, Orphans Publishing, is on sale February 2024. © Grant Scott 2023

A couple has won their battle to stop a solar farm being developed on the land they farm. The application was turned down by North Yorkshire Council. The Tenant Farmers Association, who backed Rob and Emma Sturdy, says renewables should not go on good arable land which is being used for food production. Coastal communities living close to wind turbines off the east coast are to be offered cheaper electricity. The scheme, which runs from Grimsby down to Skegness, aims to promote the use of green energy. All week we're talking about autumn fruits. A brewery in Cornwall is using foraged blackberries to create a beer, with a little help from the community. Presenter = Caz Graham Producer = Rebecca Rooney

Our media warriors discuss the trends and vibes from Cannes Lions. Does winning awards matter any more? Should Cannes move to Skegness? Plus why media execs should cosy up to Gen Zs, the benefits of surfing the AI wave and why you shouldn't bunk off work on charity days? Hosted by Bukky from Wavemaker, Charlie from MiQ, Harriet from Publicis and Jack from Craft Media.Got a media confession you need to get off your chest? Need some life advice from the gang? Submit your questions here: https://forms.gle/CXPYw4SDRSqXzZTt8 Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

EP10 - Rob Sadler - Skegmess: The Untold Story Yorkshire based Jerry Glover was destined to become an entertainer. Unfulfilled, he quits his job as a carpet fitter to follow his dream of becoming a blue coat in Skegness. However, as young Jerry tries to navigate the choppy waters of Butlins stardom, he soon realised that fame comes with a cost. From performing as Peter Pan in front of a wild, 6,000 strong crowd hungry for blood to fighting for his life with Chris Eubank, this is an AllMadeUp story like you've never heard before. All Made Up Story Begins: 7:30Don't forget you can get involved with our podcast by suggesting lines for future stories. Get in touch with us @allmadeuppod and we will read them out in future episodes. Thanks for listening and if you've enjoyed it, please give it a share or tell someone about it. It makes a massive difference! Cheers! Wanna follow Rob Sadler…Insta: @rob29sadlerWanna follow Harry Stachini…Insta: @HarrystandupFB: @Harrystachinicomedian YouTube: @HarrystachiniTwitter: @HstachiniThe Staff Room PodcastWanna follow Lewis Coleman…Insta: @lewiscolemanTwitter: @LewisColeman93Wanna follow Ben Hart…Insta: @benhartcomedyFB: @benhartactorTwitter: @benhart0592CreditsRecorded and edited by Lewis Coleman Produced by @GetGiddierArtwork by Elliot @melodyleeart Soundtrack by @grahammccuskerAll Made Up is proudly sponsored by - No Mind Collective. Liverpool's top streetwear brand. Whether it's t-shirts, hoodies or bandannas they're all about unique designs and top quality clobber. Use promo code - allmadeup - at check out for 10% on your next purchase. www.nomindcollective.com #Allmadeup #Butlins #Storytelling #Eubank #PeterPan #Skegness Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Are you ready for a break? Do you just need to get away? YLT understands, so let's escape for a bit and go on holiday together! In this episode, we will:- examine the history of leisure in Britain and the evolution of paid leave from work- consider how public transportation increased mobility and accessibility to the seaside from Victorian era onward - take a look at the Victorian trend of “dark tourism”- study the legislation and cultural shifts that gave working class people opportunities for leisure- take a deep dive into the legacy of the great British Holiday Camp, with a special focus on Butlin'sEveryone deserves a holiday from time to time, and that includes you! So roll up, roll up - we're leaving the city and heading to Skegness!For more fun, photos, and to see our sources, please visit our show notes, or reach out to us on the socials:Instagram: yesterdayslondontimespodcastFacebook: Yesterday's London TimesTwitter: @YLT_PodComing soon: more on Reddit & TikTok

Host Ailbhe Rea explores how and why dealing with migrants crossing the English Channel has shot to the top of the prime minister's to-do list — and what he's actually doing about it.Pollster Scarlett Maguire outlines the political headache for Sunak, while disgruntled Tory MP Matt Warman explains how this has now become the top issue of concern for his constituents in Boston and Skegness — hundreds of miles from the Kent coast.Ailbhe also meets an Iranian asylum seeker, Ali, who made that dangerous journey across the Channel himself — and was then left waiting years for a decision on whether he can stay.And we take Sunak's pledge on its own terms and ask two very different experts — immigration lawyer Colin Yeo, and former head of the UK Border Force, Tony Smith — whether the prime minister really can stop the boats. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Oh, we do like to be beside the seaside. Don't we? Places like Blackpool, Jaywick and Skegness are among the poorest areas of the UK. Yet other resorts are so desirable that property-owners can afford to keep them empty for most of the year and rake in the profit from renting them out in summer. Madeleine Bunting, author of The Seaside: England's Love Affair, tells Ros Taylor about her odyssey around the English coast, the threat posed by sewage discharges, and the special affection she holds for Brighton — a town where anything can seem possible. “There are still huge reserves of affection for seaside towns.” “People flock to seaside towns because they think that is where they can start again.” “There's a hedonism to the seaside. It has always been about indulging fantasy.' “The Essex coastline is fascinating, and often gets overlooked.” Support us on Patreon: www.patreon.com/bunkercast  Written and presented by Ros Taylor. Producer: Kasia Tomasiewicz. Producer and audio editor: Jade Bailey. Music by Kenny Dickinson. Managing Editor: Jacob Jarvis. Group Editor: Andrew Harrison. THE BUNKER is a Podmasters Production. Instagram | Twitter Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this special extended programme broadcast live from Lincoln, the Money Box team covers all you need to know as the financial year comes to an end and a new one begins. For many household bills are going up, from broadband costs and water bills to council tax - but what can you do if you're struggling? The team are joined by organisations who're supporting people every day, to find out what help is out there. We're in Skegness to find out how local people and businesses are coping with energy costs. We'll discuss what tax changes are coming in from April, and what allowances you're entitled to. Plus we'll mark 50 years since the introduction of VAT - Value Added Tax. Don't miss music from the City of Lincoln Band and a special introduction from the Official Town Crier of Lincoln City too. Presenter: Felicity Hannah Reporter: Dan Whitworth Researcher: Sandra Hardial Editor: Jess Quayle (First broadcast 1130am on Saturday 1st April, 2023)

Our volcanic eruptions of anger threatens to burn us alive. Gut wrenching shame threatens to engulf and drown us. So how do we survive this rollercoaster of a life? Listen in as Carolyn shares what she's learned - and continues to learn - to heal.Carolyn or Patricia as her birth mother named her, was born in April 1959, in the historic English town of Stratford- upon- Avon. She was the first daughter of Pat, a young secretary and dancer who met her father while working her first seasonat Butlins in sunny Skegness. At six weeks old she was adopted by a Birmingham couple, her father being a local chartered accountant. Although her adoptive parents had hoped to adopt again she found herself growing up as an only child, which caused her to feel lonely at times.Being a bright girl Carolyn was moved into a class of children two years her senior making it even more difficult to fit in. From time to time she found herself becoming unexpectedly angry, these sporadic outbursts continuing into adulthood and causing her to be misunderstood by others around her. She didn't discover where this rage originated from until her coach suggested she explored the possibility of it being her inner child trying to attract her attention. This was the key that unlocked so much of how she had felt all her life. The sense of rejection, being a misfit, continually seeking validation, love and acceptance that had led to her falling into two abusive relationships, difficulty bonding with her children, it all made sense now. With this new found understanding she could start to work through the past and begin to heal the invisible wound within. Carolyn has always worked in the health and care sector, first as a physiotherapist and more since 2011 as a support worker for vulnerable older adults. Her compassion and empathy also led  her to writing her first memoir From A Place Called Shame and contributing to several multi-author books; all of which share a part of her life and recovery story to inspire those walking a similar path. Our volcanic eruptions of anger threatens to burn us alive. Gut wrenching shame chills the molten lava in an instant only to threaten to engulf, overwhelm then drown us. So how do we survive this rollercoaster of a life? Listen in as Carolyn shares what she's learned - and continues to learn - to navigate the tough stuff.Carolyn has been described by many as a lightworker and is called the Overcoming Queen by those in her social media circles. She is currently working towards creating a trauma recovery workshop Paint It Out, providing a safe space to throw emotions onto canvas thereby externalising them, a vital step in releasing, healing  and moving forward from pain in our past. Follow/ contact Carolyn here: https://www.facebook.com/carolynjaneparkerhttps://www.instagram.com/restoringselfbeliefFrom A Place Called Shame, the trails & tribulations of my teens, and twenties from college to motherhood which I began to understand in light of the inner child work. https://amzn.eu/d/74Zh0I8Beautifully Broken (ch1 :Little Miss Misunderstood is the story of me discovering my inner child / impact of this )https://amzn.to/3Rt32dW

Something is very wrong with my country. Something big and something bad. We can all feel it, though we might not agree on what is actually wrong. The great institutions of state are falling apart. Mighty institutions that I grew up trusting for their integrity, respected around the world, seem to be crumbling amidst incompetence, incoherence, corruption and more.The government, essentially unelected, is unpopular and ineffectual. Not that a properly elected government would make much difference. Sir Humphrey and the Blob still seem to run everything. The system seems set up to look after the system, rather than its people. The opportunities for change and reform that were first, Brexit, then Boris Johnson's sweeping 2019 election win, have been squandered. The government is unable to carry out even its most basic function, which is to defend the borders. The Bank of England has for many years been destroying the value of money. Inflation, which apparently was unforeseeable, is now at 9%. And that's just official inflation – we all know actual inflation is higher. The Bank's monetary policies, together with planning laws, have given us an intergenerational wealth divide which means anyone born after about 1985 can't afford anywhere to live. They delay starting families as a result, and they have smaller families, with the long-term consequence that the local population is eroded away. This then gives rise to the argument that, as locals aren't reproducing, we “need” immigration. I can't remember trust in the police, who seem more concerned with online wrong-think than violent crime, ever having been so low. I wrote that sentence before the David Carrick scandal. The courts are overwhelmed and the court system is both expensive and antiquated. The legal system is manipulated and exploited, only affordable to the very rich or very poor. The penal system is inadequate. Google “NHS and news”, if you want to see what state healthcare is in. Radical progressive ideology has enveloped education. Even the armed forces have been afflicted by it. Universities are overpriced and increasingly irrelevant to the modern work environment. The BBC, the national broadcaster, is loathed for its bias, and its output is, for the most part, crap. Luxury green ideology has left us with sky-high energy prices. Royal Mail only occasionally delivers - I'm still getting Christmas cards now. The trains are useless and expensive. Who knows how well the civil service is doing? It's opaque. The electoral process has become meaningless. You get the same blob whoever you vote for. Representative democracy is neither representative nor democratic.I could go on. You get the point. Everywhere that is not functioning involves (or has involved in its recent history) the heavy hand of the state. You could look at, say, shops, tech, restaurants or media – areas where the state is less involved – and user dissatisfaction levels are not comparable. Airports actually ran better when the border force went on strike. It's as though the state is inherently incompetent. Why there aren't more libertarians, I'll never understand. Meanwhile, all of these institutions are costing a fortune. Spending on most is at all-time highs. By the time you factor in inflation (which is a stealth tax - even the Chancellor recently admitted as much), taxation levels are comfortably in excess of 50%. That is to say: more than half of everything you earn is taken from you by the state to pay for stuff that doesn't work. That's before we get to the tax on the future which is debt and deficit spending.And then there's the waste. Here is just one example:Imagine how much better off we'd all be, if citizens, rather than the government, could choose where to allocate the money they earn. You spend your money better than they do.Culture wars and mass migrationIt's not just crumbling institutions and state overreach. They call it the Culture Wars, but we are in the midst of a religious war, an ideological struggle. What Elon Musk calls “the woke mind virus” – an aggressive, radically progressive ideology born out of an obsession with identity politics – has taken over, especially within institutions and education, and is wreaking havoc. From male rapists being put into women's prisons to expensive green initiatives that actually damage the environment to a pandemic of cancel culture. Again, I could go on. I don't need to spell it out here. You know what I'm talking about. Small government and libertarianism solves this too, by the way. The virus would not be able to survive and spread without the oxygen of public money.Meanwhile, the demography of the country has changed, and as a result, so has its identity (though few have yet realised that). Last year, 1.1 million people migrated to this country –  that's just the ones who were granted visas. There are plenty more that weren't. In effect, roughly one in every 65 people you meet in this country only came here last year.  The London of the 1970s that I grew up in has vanished. The archetypical Londoner used to be the Cockney – the white working-class man or woman born within the sound of Bow Bells. Today the Cockney, once such an instantly recognisable English type and one that has had an incredible influence on Britain, barely exists. They've all gone. Almost every other UK city is on a similar journey to indigenous British white minority.As the song goes, “you don't know what you've got till it's gone”. Whatever we had has gone and we will never get it back. It's not just the UK. It's the whole of Western Europe, and probably much of North America too. My German friend jokes that Buenos Aires will be the last European city. On which note, it was incredible to watch the World Cup Final between Argentina and France. By the time the game ended and the substitutions had been made, it was, essentially, a match between Africans from Europe and Europeans from South America. I am not “anti-migration”, by the way. If anything, I am pro it. In my National Anthem of Libertaria I argue for free movement. The mass movement of people is an inevitable tide in the affairs of men. People have always moved, and always will. But I also view conserving our culture, identity and communities as paramount, and the state is failing to do that.  If such things were not state responsibility, but locals', and people were empowered by lower taxes and the greater responsibility that comes with a smaller state, the outcome would be different. Mass migration is inevitable. People think it's going to decrease. It's not. It's going to increase. There are more people in the world than ever before and – whether it's those displaced by war, by lack of water, by poverty, hunger or (probably the primary factor) lack of opportunity – more and more of them are on the move. Because of modern communications, more of them are aware of better lives to be had elsewhere. Because of modern travel, more of them are able to travel further and faster than ever before. As a result, we are in a migration of people of historically unprecedented proportions. It's only going to increase.Terrified of being labelled racist, Western governments have no coherent philosophy, let alone an actionable strategy, to deal with it all. Especially as both the public and the media have lost sight of the difference between what is legal immigration, what is illegal and what is asylum. Moreover, it has become impossible for all the shouting “racist” to have a grown up conversation about how much immigration we actually want - 100,000 a year? 500,000? Net zero? How pertinent is the Douglas Murray title: The Strange Death of Europe.The world is changing fast. For good or for bad, the Britain we once knew has left Middle Earth. I don't think anyone voted for it. I don't see many leaders trying to stop it. Locals who have paid taxes all their life and now receive inadequate services, or see that tax money being spent on these new Britons, while they go overlooked, not unreasonably feel betrayed, angry, frightened and more. Accountable local government with local borders might be better able to act on the wishes of its people, and defend against this sudden influx that is disrupting so many communities – if so desired. But that is not possible with Britain's remote, centralised, unaccountable state. Given its record elsewhere, when the state is in charge of borders, why should it be any surprise they don't function properly?A genuinely free market-driven economy might be happy with open borders and quickly able to adapt – more people to sell products to, a greater choice of people to employ – what's not to like? But the state systems – schools, hospitals, transport infrastructure – cannot cope. As Milton Friedman observed, you cannot have open borders and an expansive and benevolent welfare state. You can have one or the other, but not both. Yet currently, both is what we have (or are attempting to have). That's why everything is falling apart. In effect, we are paying for ourselves to be colonised.Maybe it's multi-culturalism and expansive state welfare that are incompatible: the latter may only properly function in more mono-cultural societies, such as Japan. (Similar arguments can be made about crime levels. They tend to be lower in mostly mono-cultural cities, especially in Asia, to those in the the more multi-cultural west).Whether it's Hull, Skegness, Mansfield or any other provincial town, when boatloads of young men from different cultures, with no instinctive loyalty to the UK or its ways (and sometimes a contempt for it), are dumped in a community and the community is given no say in the matter, and locals have no power to resist, any anger felt is pretty understandable. There are incidents when the young men are put up in four or five-star hotels, while there are locals, homeless, in tents outside. It is not what people want, nor what they voted for. As I say, representative democracy is neither representative, nor democratic. The model is broken.Brave New World, digital nomad-ery, robot takeover — or something worse?Finally, there are incredible developments in technology: the new worlds being designed for us by nameless, and, in many cases, slightly autistic coders in far away places, the extraordinary expansion of surveillance and the erosion of privacy. Those who have monitored ChatGPT will know that before long as much as half of the content on the internet will be generated by bots. But they are not neutral - they are politically biased. What are the implications of that and the extraordinary influence these nameless coders will have to shape the global narrative?Never mind whose fault this all is, or the rights and wrongs of it all. We all have our ideas. Plenty of them.  What I want to know is: where is this all going? I've been thinking about it a lot.Many draw parallels with the Fall of Rome and the invading barbarians at the gates. Others say we are headed into totalitarianism akin to George Orwell's 1984. Many of my Eastern European friends think we are making the same mistakes they once made and headed into some kind of 21st century Marxism. My Venezuelan friends think the same. Some see a new rise of fascism akin to the 1930s.Some look to Isaac Asimov and the rise of intelligent machines (see my piece on ChatGPT, if you want to know just how advanced machine learning is now). My genius bitcoin billionaire mate, who has long since disappeared somewhere remote in New Zealand, thinks we are going into a world where everybody is housed in Butlins/CentreParks/Club Med (depending on your socio-economic status)-type holiday resorts, with virtual reality headsets on all day, while robots do all the work. That vision tallies somewhat with Aldous Huxley's Brave New World.Another compelling scenario comes in James Dale Davidson and Lord William Rees-Mogg's, in which they describe a two-tiered society. On one tier, thanks to advances in technology and communication, there will be a class of largely untaxed digital nomads, travelling from place to place, operating independently of nation states and government structures. Meanwhile, there will be a much larger class of people trapped in their nations, working in the physical economy (rather than the stateless digital one), heavily taxed and indebted. Hard-money advocates argue that some kind of hyperinflation and the destruction of fiat money is inevitable, or that, with the emergence of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation, the US dollar is soon to lose its reserve currency status, with major implications for the international balance of power. In that case Western Europe is probably going the way of once-wealthy Argentina. “Great Reset” theory, in the wake of Covid and the vaccine furore - that powerful, yet secret actors and organisations, especially the WEF, are planning all of this - looks rather more credible than it once did.There is also a persuasive argument that the expansion of NATO, Vladimir Putin's ambitions and the conflict in Ukraine is going to take us eventually to nuclear war. There is a lot to worry about. These really are incredible times.So back to the underlying question: where is this all going? The South Africanisation of everythingI was in the pub with my friend, the director Alex McCarron, the other night, when this subject came up. He had a simple but compelling answer: South Africa. The South Africanisation of Everything.There are many parallels: crumbling institutions, widespread corruption, mass migration; failing rule of law, rising crime rates – especially violent crime; inadequate policing and reliance on private security; identity politics, siloed, ghetto-ised communities within a so-called multi-cultural country; race-based crime, justified because of history; many cultures, each with their grievances, thrust together and by no means living harmoniously. It's a credible scenario and one I can envisage. One small example: private security vehicles are ubiquitous in Johannesburg. You never used to see them in the UK. My friend sent me this image, spotted this in Notting Hill the other evening. I think such sights are going to get more and more become commonplace. It's another symptom of a failing state.My view is that we are going to see all of those above scenarios. Nevertheless … things are better than we realiseIn all of this negativity, in many ways, things are much better than we may think and the world is in a better state than it has ever been. We are living longer than ever. There are fewer people living below the poverty line than ever. The number of people dying from natural disasters is lower than it has ever been. Information technology means we have greater access to information than ever. 6.8 billion people now have a smart phone - think of all the possibilities that open up as a result. More than 80% of the global population now has access to electricity. With modern transport we are able to go further than ever, quicker than ever. The world is, as a result, more accessible than ever. We might not enjoy her status, but most of us live with luxuries Marie Antoinette could never have dreamed of. Life is so much easier for us than it was for our ancestors and we should be grateful to them for the benefits we enjoy, as a result of what they went through. Wonderful things are possible. There is much to be positive and excited about. There has never been a better time to be alive.But something is missing. Something is wrong. We can all feel it.Our belief systems are awry. I am sure it's to do with the absence of religion. Naive worship of incompetent state institutions has replaced it.Am I right about this? Please post your thoughts in the comments below. And how do you navigate it all, as an investor, and protect/grow your wealth? Gold and bitcoin are the obvious “anti-state” choices.Please share this article on Twitter, Facebook etc (if you liked it).Meanwhile, if you want to listen to Alex and I discuss the South Africanisation of everything – that podcast is here.Interested in protecting your wealth in these extraordinary times? Then be sure to own some gold bullion. My current recommended bullion dealer is The Pure Gold Company, whether you are taking delivery or storing online. Premiums are low, quality of service is high. You can deal with a human being. I have an affiliation deals with them.My guide to buying bitcoin is here.Make your Number One resolution for 2023 to listen to Kisses on a Postcard.The Flying Frisby is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.theflyingfrisby.com/subscribe

We're back this week for a bonus episode, giving a special behind the scenes look at the filming of Troubled Blood. Today we are joined by StrikeFans.com co-creator Bill, Katie, Sue and Faye, all of whom were lucky enough to witness some of the filming in Skegness as well as locations in Cornwall! *This episode contains spoilers for Troubled Blood.* Links: www.thesefilespod.com www.twitter.com/cormstrikefan www.twitter.com/ludicrousmonica www.twitter.com/badly_wired www.twitter.com/suekmoorhen --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/thesefilespod/message

In the tenth and final episode of season 7, I tell the story of Liam Naylor and Doreen Walker.On April 1, 2014, Naylor broke into the house of 75-year-old Doreen and murdered her before stealing the £104 pension money she'd collected earlier that day.He used the money to treat his friends to a night out in Barnsley.The following day, Naylor was arrested on suspicion of murder in Skegness.On October 16, 2014, Liam Naylor was found guilty of murdering Doreen Walker and handed a life sentence with a minimum term of 33 years.⁣⁣For all things British Murders, please visit my website:⁣https://www.britishmurders.com/⁣Intro music:⁣David John Brady - 'Throw Down the Gauntlet'⁣https://linktr.ee/davidjohnbradymusic⁣My recording equipment:⁣Shure SM7B Vocal MicrophoneCloud Microphone Cloudlifter CL1Focusrite Scarlett Solo USB Audio InterfaceRode PSA-1 Professional Studio Boom ArmRecorded and Edited in:⁣Hindenberg PROReferences:⁣www.britishmurders.com/liamnaylor/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In the tenth and final episode of season 7, I tell the story of Liam Naylor and Doreen Walker. On April 1, 2014, Naylor broke into the house of 75-year-old Doreen and murdered her before stealing the £104 pension money she'd collected earlier that day. He used the money to treat his friends to a night out in Barnsley. The following day, Naylor was arrested on suspicion of murder in Skegness. On October 16, 2014, Liam Naylor was found guilty of murdering Doreen Walker and handed a life sentence with a minimum term of 33 years. ⁣⁣For all things British Murders, please visit my website:⁣ https://www.britishmurders.com/⁣ Intro music:⁣ David John Brady - 'Throw Down the Gauntlet'⁣ https://linktr.ee/davidjohnbradymusic⁣ My recording equipment:⁣ Shure SM7B Vocal Microphone Cloud Microphone Cloudlifter CL1 Focusrite Scarlett Solo USB Audio Interface Rode PSA-1 Professional Studio Boom Arm Recorded and Edited in:⁣ Hindenberg PRO References:⁣ www.britishmurders.com/liamnaylor/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Steve Anglesey and Ellie Longman-Rood discuss Matt Hancock on I'm A Celebrity... and ask who his appearance will damage most: the ITV show, Rishi Sunak or Hancock himself. Plus: Five years on from a visit that created local outrage and national headlines TNE goes back to Skegness to see if the seaside town still loves Brexit. And Suella Braverman, Nigel Farage and Lee Anderson go into our Hall of Shame. Enjoyed the pod? Let us know by tweeting @theneweuropean. Podcast produced by John Dakin.

The first holiday camp in Britain, Butlin's Skegness, opened to the public on 11th April, 1936 - although one member of the public, a certain Freda Monk from Nottingham, was so keen to attend that she arrived a day early. It cost 35 shillings per week to attend.  South Africa-born Billy Butlin had created the camp after holidaying in Barry Island and feeling “sorry for the families with young children as they trudged along wet and bedgraggled, and forlornly filled time in amusement arcades until they could return back to the boarding houses.” In this episode, Arion, Rebecca and Olly review the entertainments on offer, from rambunctious Redcoats to boxing kangaroos; explain how The Beatles owe a debt to Butlin's Skegness; and reveal the sad fate of the park's famous monorail…  Further Reading: • ‘'Our True Intent Is All For Your Delight' - Glorious Pictures of the Skegness Butlin's' (Flashbak, 2019): https://flashbak.com/our-true-intent-is-all-for-your-delight-butlins-at-skegness-17646 • ‘The mystery of how an old Butlin's monorail train ended up in this Lincolnshire field' (Lincolnshire Live, 2021): https://www.lincolnshirelive.co.uk/news/local-news/mystery-how-old-butlins-monorail-5059270 • ‘Best of Butlin's' (British Pathé): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGZoqkZUFtA For bonus material and to support the show, visit Patreon.com/Retrospectors We'll be back tomorrow! Follow us wherever you get your podcasts: podfollow.com/Retrospectors The Retrospectors are Olly Mann, Rebecca Messina & Arion McNicoll, with Matt Hill. Theme Music: Pass The Peas. Announcer: Bob Ravelli. Graphic Design: Terry Saunders. Edit Producer: Emma Corsham. Copyright: Rethink Audio / Olly Mann 2022. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

“The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4,” March 17-April 3, 1982 (plus special American Afterword!). We finish the book! Adrian has a brief emotional affair, turns 15, and goes to the ER with a model plane stuck to his nose. Alison and Jody talk about Jungle Jim's, Skeg Vegas, the Falkland islands, and all the perplexing Adrian British-isms. There's also some fun Judy news, and a shocking revelation about the height of your hosts! Tune in next week for our Odds and Ends wrap-up...