Cunning And The Vicar

Well dear Rain and Scat this is the penultimate chapter.

Little Cunning Lingus one evening at a dance,
Was strolling ‘neath the tables when he thought he saw his chance,
A lovely pair of slender legs so long and open wide,
He lifted up the frilly skirt and popped his head inside,

In this moment of his conquest he got an awful shock,
For instead of finding pussy, his mouth was filled with cock,
Cunning tried to spit it out he never went with queers,
But he cock was rammed right down his throat, he was held on by his ears,

Cunning gagged and spluttered he thought that he would choke,
‘Got yer now you little twat, this ‘lady’ is a bloke,
I know you are a clever sod but I'm smarter and I’m slicker,’
Cunning recognised his voice this bastard was the vicar!

As he rammed his big dick in and out Vic began to gloat,
I’ll fill you up with spunk and piss until your eyeballs float,
Cunning was quite desperate he couldn’t even shout,
He had to find a cunning plan to get the Willie out,

So he thrust his hands before him, grabbed a bollock and some hair,
Then hung on tight with all his might and swung beneath the chair,
The vicar screamed in agony his eyes stood out on stalks,
He was dragged onto the dance floor ’midst pain-filled shrieks and squawks.

Then Cunning climbed suspenders the vicar’s arse to bite,
The priest flapped round in circles to try to ease his plight,
The DJ called to wild applause ‘Is there any chance,
That you’ll come back another night and teach us all that dance?’

The vicar called ‘Please get him off and end this sorry farce,
One can’t look cool and vicar-like with a midget on one’s arse’,
Then Cunning grabbed the vicar’s balls for he was filled with rage,
And swung him from the dance floor and up onto the stage.

The crowd went wild and gather round the spectacle to watch,
Cunning was still furious and bit the cleric’s crotch,
He took hold of a piece of rope that hung down from a beam,
And tied it to the vicar’s dick you should have heard him scream!

Cunning pulled upon the rope ‘til the vicar swung on high,
He said ‘I’ll leave you hanging there until you fuckin’ die’,
The DJ ran across the stage saying ‘You can’t kill him son,
Let me be your agent I’ll book a twelve week run.

Just listen to that audience, it’s music to my ears,
You’re the funniest pair of bastards that we’ve had on in years,
Cunning was delighted and hauled the vicar down,
He had dreams of fame and fortune as they toured from town to town,

But the vicar would not hear of it not even for fat fee,
‘My bollocks would be ruined and my bishop won’t agree,’
Alas poor Cunning Lingus his fame did not last long,
For the vicar had to dash away in time for evensong,

And so this chapter’s all but told, my work is nearly done,
But don’t despair dear reader there’s plenty more to come,
The chapter next is full of fun with vicars, tarts and whores,
And little Cunning Lingus with his head up ladies drawers!