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Monsignor Delmonte was plagued by

terrifying dreams. Wine didn't help alleviate their occurrence, nor did the

copious amounts of cognac he imbibed. At the worst of these times he would walk

through the cathedral to the stone staircase that wound its way upwards to the

roof. From there, step after inexorable step, he climbed them to the top where

they opened onto the sky above and the city below.

He would lean over the limestone

railing and gaze out over the buildings below, or if the sky was exceptionally

clear, to the heavens above. In either direction he sought solace and subtle

answers to his inner doubts and demons.

On this one particular evening, set

as it was in the early part of spring, the priest found himself once again upon

that upper terrace, looking up into the expanse that was the night. Twinkling

stars shown above him, pinprick points of light against the black garments of

the universe. From below came the aroma of spring; the smell of rain, leaves

and newly forged flowers.

As he stood there looking to the heavens

for comfort and guidance, he sensed he was not alone. That was most unusual,

considering where he was at. Few had the ability, nay the right to traverse

those steps. Access to this portion of the cathedral was both restricted and

rarely visited!

Even as he turned towards the

slight scraping sound he was hit from behind and knocked on his belly. A weight

slammed into his back and the fluttering of a cape or robe rustled against his

ears. A voice, raspy and hoarse, yet definitively female whispered to him.

"Who are you and why are you here?"

The priest tried to turn to see his

attacker was but strong hands on wiry arms held his head firmly.

"I am Monsignor Delmonte! Unhand me

this instant."

"I think not. Why are you here? Who

sent you?" Her tone was bordering on grievous.

"What are you saying? I am God's

servant here at the cathedral. I come and go about these premises as I see

fit!"

The pressure on the back of his

neck eased up just a little.

"I suppose you do. I'm the one who

doesn't belong here."

He endeavored to turn his head but

was thwarted by a swift pressure on the back of his head. He felt like he was

talking to the pavement, but he uttered out his question as best he could. "Who

are you and how did you come to being all the way up here?"

"The answers to both of those

questions are none of your business."

"Then at least tell me why you are

here. This is hardly a place for a - a - a; a girl like you to be hiding out."

"Girl?!" There was a pause. "Yes, a

girl like me can find so few safe places around here. Can you think of any

safer place than this?"

He did take the time to think about

it. The city that lay sprawled below them was filled with the poor, and the

children of the destitute were often let loose at an early age to fend for

themselves. And while he was a holy man he was still a man. He knew full well

the plight that might await them at night.

"No child, I guess that I can't."

"Good answer my good friar. So what

is the purpose of you coming here in the dark of the night if it was not to

find me?"

"I came for guidance."

"From what? The sky?"

"From God."

There was a snort in is ear. "And

does he ever answer you?"

"In his own way I believe he does."

"Then maybe I'm the answer to your

prayers. What do you think of that?"

In a fit of anger, he pushed up

against her weight. She slid off at the same time allowing him to lurch over

onto his back before losing his momentum and crashing back down to the stones.

Before he could gather himself she was back on top of him. His protest was

immediate.

"No mere slip of a girl is an

answer to any question I might contrive! Now removed yourself from my person!"

He was straining to see her face in

the dark. The moon was behind her leaving nothing more than the silhouette of

her tousle-haired head for him to attempt to distinguish in the barely

perceptible light. As for his request for her to move, she somewhat complied,

but not in a manner he had so vehemently demanded.

She was now straddling his

midsection, perhaps a tad bit lower than that. While it was a good position to

restrain him from, with her strength being more than capable of pinning his

arms at his sides, the presence of her there was causing some rather

embarrassing reactions from his loins. Their close proximity to each other had

resulted in something particularly distinct under his robes.

He had been blessed with an

erection.

She noticed immediately.

"A man of the cloth you say?" she

taunted with an evil laugh. "Methinks you are a man of the flesh as all men

are."

He struggled against her grip until

he realized the futility of his actions. It was only generating immoral

feelings within him, something he had been fighting for years. And yet, while

he desisted, she did not.

"My, my, aren't we the endowed one?

All of these years dedicated to being celibate and thus you've been unable to

grace a single woman with your manly virtue?"

Her voice was filled with a mix of

spite and curiosity.

His was filled with indignation.

"I have kept my vows as best as I

have been able to my entire life!"

"I see. It sounds to me like you

need some relief from your self-imposed penances."

"Now see here..." His voice trailed

off as his body responded to the continued friction she was generating with her

constant movement. The inside of his robe was soon covered with a coating of

white, sticky fluid. As his body reacted involuntarily, he let out a moan and

let his eyes drift back into his head.

"See I was right!" she said,

pausing a moment to allow him the full effect of his recent release."Allow me

to make you an offer. If you will bring me food, then I'll see to your worldly

needs as often as you desire. The only condition that I lay upon this is that

you come alone and without torch or lantern."

He was still shaking a little from

his recent experience.

He hardly knew what words were

coming forth from his throat, but his ears heard them well enough. "That can be

arranged. But why no lights? The way up here is dark and treacherous."

"The matter is simple enough. If

you see my face you will then know it. And if you know it, then those looking

for me may coerce you into disclosing my whereabouts. So my precaution will

save us both a lot of trouble in the long run."

"I - I - I... I will do as you say,

may the good Lord forgive me."

"He will, good father, for isn't

that his given line of work?"

With that she leaned in, kissed him

and vaulted over his head. By the time he gathered his wits together she was

gone.

He didn't venture back to the roof

for several nights. When he did, he went first in the daylight of early

afternoon. Search thought he did, the only thing he scared up were the filthy

pigeons that frequented the ledges and crevices that abounded on the edifice.

If the girl had left any evidence, such as crumbs, these nasty vermin would

have made quick work of it. He would just have to brave the night and see if

she made an appearance.

When he hesitantly stuck his head

out of the uppermost door, he was greeted by nothing. But then, she had sprung

upon him before, so it was obvious she knew how to hide. And just when he was

thinking she wasn't going to make an appearance, a form pulled itself away from

the shadows. He held out the tray he had brought, hoping the food gracing it

was to her liking. She had not specified what she desired to eat. Then again, a

waif from the dirty streets below likely wasn't going to be terribly picky.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim

ambient light, he could see that she seemed to be mostly nude, which suggested

that she was more interested in their forthcoming encounter than she was in the

food. He could see hints of curves to her body that suggested she might be

older than he first assumed. A mere girl would have less attributes than he was

witnessing.

"I see you kept your end of the

bargain, though you certainly took your time."

"I had to pray over this before I

committed myself."

"A man who makes a commitment? I

didn't think that such a thing existed in this world."

He held his tongue and offered her

the tray he had brought. She took it and returned to the ledge from which she

had been sitting. In a short matter of time she had cleaned the entire tray of

its contents, leaving hardly a smear for the kitchen staff to wash away. She

held it out to him with a slight smirk. He might have asked what that gesture

was for had he been able to see it.

She watched him step back before

asking her question. "So? Are you prepared to delight in the pleasures of the

flesh? I don't often get the chance to partake of them so I will find this to

be as refreshing as that meal."

He stuttered, trying to get out his

reply. She grinned at his discomfiture, but the look on her face was obscured

by the dim surroundings. Her words were not.

"I know, I know; what will your

great god say? So ask him! I for one will take silence to mean his assent."

A feeling of choler rose up in him

at her levity at his expense, but at the same time he felt there was no harm in

trying her suggestion. Lesser miracles had been known to happen.

"Lord, tell me if what I

contemplate doing is the proper course for a man of my position."

The air was filled with...nothing. Even

the evening breeze was barely able to rustle the hair on their respective

heads. It was as still and as quiet as a person could imagine.

 "Well there you go. Your deity apparently sees

nothing wrong with you using your body as it was designed to be used."

"But..."

"Yes?" she asked sweetly.

"Are we to do it up here, on the

cold hard stones?"

"It will be here and nowhere else.

If you wish to be a fool and drag one of your comfortable beds up here, go

right ahead. I will not use it. I spend my time outside and I live as I live

regardless of how you or anyone else happens to feel about it."

Her words were spoken with the same

vehemence that he occasionally used when extolling the evils of the sin to the

churchgoers sitting in the pews on Sunday morn. Ironically, sins like the one

he was about to commit. But the point was; he knew there was no point in

arguing with her.

He removed his robe and spread it

on the cold cobbles that lined the platform where they were, looking up to her

when he was satisfied with his work.

"Now what?"

Her giggle was honest and full

hearted. "You really have no clue do you?" She rushed from her perch and

knocked him off of his feet. Even as he fell, those strong arms braced him up,

so that he landed much more lightly than he was prepared for. He was flung down

on his robe with barely a bruise.

In the next instant she was on top

of him, her body emanating a riotous heat in the night's cool air. He had never

felt the titillating sensation of another's skin in contact with his own. In

his two-score-plus years on this earth, he had done his best to avoid any such

pleasures of the flesh, but as she had said, in the end it was all he really

was.

A man made from flesh.

His loins sprang to life without

further provocation, as they had done some many times during his fevered

dreams. It was those dreamings, the ones that had forced him awake in a pool of

his own sweat and - errr - other fluids.  As his member stiffened under her upon the

briefest of contacts, she let out a sound that was part growl and part purr.

"Why father; I think your body

understands this far better than does your mind." She ground her hips against

him, thrusting back and forth until he came.

He lay there in a confused mess,

panting so violently that his breath came as puffs of steam in the still

chilled air. She leaned in and kissed him, biting his lip and the tip of his

nose before whispering in his ear.

"Relax! That was a prolusion only.

You desperately need to be relieved of your tensions before you'll be any good

to me. I mean, how else can a girl like me get what she needs out of this

little encounter?"

"But I can't possibly do that again

so soon after the first..."

He stopped what he was saying

because she had slipped down, placing her head in his crotch. Her mouth

engulfed his still firm manhood and with a suction he didn't believe was

humanly possible she pulled it in and began to massage and entice it back to

life with her tongue. His eyes rolled back in his head as she worked him over.

In less time than it took for him to relieve himself in the morning, his body

was in full working order.  In this he

was sadly aggrieved, for the feeling was one he could have endured for hours.

He had never imagined anything like it in his limited experiences as a virile man.

His disappointment was short lived.

She slid back up along his body until she was able to kiss him again. All this

time he kept his arms at his sides for fear of being a fumbling fool. That she

was an experienced fornicatrix was evident in her abilities, and though that

should have turned him off, he found the idea overwhelmingly attractive. If he

were to sin in such a manner, might it not be with someone who knew what they

were doing? It would make his future penances all the easier to accept.

She rubbed her crotch over his

painfully taut cock repeatedly before angling her hips and making their bodies

become one. He gasped, moaned and once again found his eyes rolling

involuntarily into the back of his head before they returned to their rightful

positions. But in reaction to that, his eyelids came open as far as they could

go. And still all he could see of her was the dark silhouette of tousled hair

framed against her head. The stars had no power to illuminate the scene any

more than that.

"Why father! I think I believe your

chastity was for real. All along I thought it must be all a lie, but I now

almost feel bad for taking from you your innocence. Almost."

He had nothing to say to that. All

of his sinful, lurid dreams had suddenly become heavenly and lucidly real.

She didn't wait for a reply, but

instead strove to work herself over him with as much energy as her lithesome

body could muster. He was amazed at her energy, for one so thin, but he already

knew the strength contained within those limbs. He might not be as fit as the

normal workman, but he wasn't a slacker when it came to doing things about the

cathedral. And despite that, a mere slip of a girl could overwhelm him. But

now, that hardly seemed pertinent. She was overpowering him in a far more

agreeable manner.

She went into a flurry of movement,

all the while the half-terrified, fully-enthralled priest laid there stiff as a

board, eyes closed, with his arms flat to his sides as she rode him like a fury.

With even the merest vision of her blocked from his sight, he was able to

relive his dreams in the waking state, and as wave after wave of pleasure and

guilt flowed over him, he found that satisfying his bodily needs gave him a

dual experience. While still wracked with the feeling that he was somehow

shirking his duties, inside he felt a tremendous release of tension. He had

once worried that he might go so far as to do some desperate deed with an

unwilling victim, but here and now was one more than willing, and in the

confines of his authority.

No one would likely ever find out

about his indiscretion.

The girl for her part, was acting

as ravenous in her actions as she did with her food. The good priest had no

clue as to the normal activities involved in this situation. If it were to be

always as wonderful as this, then he was beginning to have some serious doubts

about his present vocation. The good Lord might have abstained from worldly

pleasures, but he was a deity, not a simple, flesh and blood man. And if

everyone on earth were to abstain, what would become of the world's population?

Of course, the reality was he was

barely concerned with such far reaching effects of his present bedding. He

wasn't even considering that possibility. All he was thinking about was how he

had missed gaining so much pleasure out of life, a pleasure he was now thinking

that God had meant for them to have all along. Something like this could hardly

have come from the Devil, despite what his nagging doubts kept trying to tell him.

Only heaven could have such carnal sensations, reserved for those who carried

out a good life. So was he now in his own heaven, or was he partaking of things

forbidden to living man?

If the girl was suffering from any

such qualms she was doing a supreme job in hiding them. She was as primal and

animalistic in her enjoyment of their pairing that one would have thought she

had suffered no proper upbringing whatsoever. But then, that was very likely.

Schools were nearly nonexistent and one learned on the streets what one could

merely to survive them day by day. Apparently her education had been sufficient

to gain her the proficiency to please males beyond all reason. That might very

well be a good strategy in life.

His reason was teetering on the

edge at the moment.

Among other matters, he was grappling

with the exotic feel of her body, particularly where they were presently

conjoined. She was hot, wet and more vigorous in her movements than he thought

possible. In his now-rendered-dreary imaginations, he had pictured the opposite

sex as being more like he was now; quiet and subservient. The raging,

provocative, thrusting, gyrating motions of this girl - this animalistic female

• were beyond the wildest images his dense brain could ever have depicted.

She was moving so continuously that

her body made a breeze about them, which though cool outside, was welcomed. His

blood was running hot, almost equal to hers (he thought) and it was a good way

to help keep the fires of his passion from running over. Running over? Who was

he kidding? He had run over once, and was about to overflow his loins once

again.

 The sounds of the city below, such as they

were and could carry up to this level, were muted to the point of obscurity.

The only thing he could hear was the wet slurping of their bodies where they

were connected, the breathing of each of them as they gasped for air, and the

occasional flutter of the parapet flags as the rustled in the night. Even these

sounds were dim and low on his ears. The blood rushing past his eardrums was

deafening to him.

When he came at last, he arched up

into her gyrating form, which she took as a sign to bear down against him. A

few seconds later his insides boiled out into hers. She responded with a cry, a

shriek really, that split the night air and harshly broke the silence he had

found himself absorbed in. It rattled his nerves to new heights, somehow

extending his orgasm even further. By the time it was finished, he was as tense

as he had been prior to all this, but in a much more satisfying way.

She spoke after several minutes of coarse,

nerve rattling silence.

"My my, but aren't you the

wonderful lover. Who would have thought it?"

"I did nothing but lay here!"

"Yes you did. Sometimes that's just

what a girl wants you know. Men can be so loutish and clumsy. We females are

better suited for this sport than are you mindless lunks. We're half your size,

more agile, spritelier and definitely prettier."

He could argue with none of her

statements.

She therefore kissed him again and

climbed off.

"Well, oh man of my present

nighttime dreams; when shall we do this again?"

"Again?"

"Sure.  You bring me food and I will give you

pleasure. It seems like a good deal for the two of us to have. We can do this

ad infinitum for all I care."

"Really?"

"Sure. You seem like you might be a

lot of fun. I mean, once you get over your little quirks, you seem like you'll

be a decent enough guy."

He said nothing more, merely

gathered his robe, dressed and turned for the stairs. He had hoped for this,

but in no way ever expected it. And if this were truly a sin, he would, when

the time came, ask fervently for forgiveness. But in the meantime...

The next night was the same, as was

each passing evening. He kept to his usual routine, not allowing himself to get

too lively during their encounters for fear of doing something stupid.  And as he grew more familiar with her ways,

he grew ever more curious as to who she was. Some days he would go into the

city and make inquiries for missing girls. There were plenty, but none seemed

to match the vague description he could give. Even the police offered him no

solid leads.

"Girl? This city is amuck with

little waifs and urchins. Why would you care about just one?"

Monsignor Delmonte drew himself up

to his full height. "God may take an interest in a lone pigeon, if that be his

will. And his will is my own!"

And during all of this, a change

came over him. Whereas he was soundly defeated in his attempts to find out who

she was, his flock soon saw a different side to him. No longer brooding and

morose, the good priest now gave heartening sermons with radiance and a bearing

that was heretofore unseen in this church. He attracted more parishioners to

come hear him speak, and they endured even hours-long dissertations on the

value of loving one another. That was not to say that the good priest was in

love, mind you, but it could be said that he was definitely smitten with his

lover. He knew well enough that a man of God could not marry, but he had found

out that a man of God could certainly tarry.

And tarrying was what he did every

evening, on the rooftops, under the night sky.

It did not last however.

Summer solstice, often viewed more

as a pagan event than a mere astronomical one, seemed to come up quickly from

that initial day that the lovers had first made their acquaintance. By then

they had come to a comfortable détente, whereas she allowed him whatever fantasy

he could devise, while he brought her the best food the kitchen could concoct.

They were both happy enough, though she continued to restrict his ability to

see her in good light. And try though he might to catch her unawares during

daylight hours, never once did he succeed. Wherever and however she vacated the

lofty platform that was their rendezvous spot, she did so imperceptibly. And

yet, every evening she was there, ready for a plentitude of activities to fill

the midnight hours.

This night was no different, nor

could any change in their routine have been predicted. Well, maybe if could

have, and maybe it should have. But neither one thought too much about the lone

alteration to their routine.

He carried up an overburdened tray

of sweetmeats and other delicacies, balancing with it a bottle and two crystal glasses.

He was becoming so enamored with her that he was going outside of his comfort

zone and having the culinary staff prepare food he would normally have shown a

distain for. The monsignor considered himself a simple man, but he understood

the basics of wooing. He might not understand this girl, for all that she was

with her worldly ways, but food did seem to be something she could always be

persuaded with.

Her shadow broke from the darkness

as it always did, the sound of her sniffing the air coming clearly to his ears as

she minced her way towards him. As usual, she seemed to be wearing little more

than a light cloak over her back. Even though his eyes had grown accustomed to

dealing with her in the gloom of night, he was always working on making out the

details that made her who she was. It was unusual that she seemed to forgo

typical clothing, but then, with this being the start of summer, perhaps it

wasn't as unusual as it seemed. Still, even the poorest of the city's denizens

had at least rags with which to cover themselves.

On the other hand, she didn't seem

to mind her nudity. In fact, she seemed to prefer flaunting her body whenever

she could. He found it fascinating; both her attitude and her body. By now he

was becoming rather intimate with each and every bump and crevice that it contained.

He knew her face by touch, and while his impression was that she was no raging

beauty, it still held strongly refined features of subtlety and culture. Her

chin was almost what you might call chiseled, and her nose upturned and

impudent. Her hair was in contrast to the rest, being of the upmost softness

and falling in dark heavy curls about her face.

Her body was solid; thin but never

seemingly from malnourishment. True he had been feeding her well as of late,

but even before one could hardly have considered her to be in the throes of

starvation. He could well believe that she climbed up and down the buttresses

of the cathedral what with her preternatural strength. He sometimes feared that

she would hurt of kill herself in her activities, but she assured him that she

was perfectly capable of handling herself in most any situation.

She had responded to his concerns

in the simplest way she could think of. "I have you to keep me safe at night,

and I find my own way during the day. It is what is best. I fear not the night

so much as I do the daylight."

"But why?" Then he paused. "Oh,

because during the day you might be recognized."

She paused to kiss him passionately

"Yes, something like that."

That had ended the matter.

Their attention was drawn back to

the here and now, and to the tray of foods fit for a prince. "Will you be

eating with me?" she asked hopefully, "This is magnificent, but more than I

think even I can consume in one sitting."

He set the tray on one of the

balustrades. It was this very spot where he had been leaning that fateful day

so many treasured weeks ago when she had first accosted him. She came over and

stood next to him, leaning out over the edge to look down at the streets below.

"Good father, how do you stand it?"

"What?"

"Everything. You have a good heart,

and I feel it is wasted upon the duties you feel you must fulfill. Look down

into the bosom of your town and tell me that what you do is worth it."

"I have had my doubts, that much is

true, but now since I have met you I feel much better about everything."

He could see her turn her head. "Do

you still think I came from God?"

"First off, that was your remark, not

mine so I can't say. But you have been an angel in my hours of need."

"Angel?" She choked back a laugh.

"I'm no angel good father. I know your religious book and on no page does it

tell of an angel lying with a man."

"True..."

"Therefore you might consider me to

be more of a demon I suppose, something akin to a succubus."

He paused. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you should not

make me out to be more than I am. I don't want you to be disappointed down the

road when I turn out to be just as I am and you had expectations for more."

"What more could I desire?"

She laughed. "Indeed, what more

could you want? You have a lover at your disposal every night of the year. But

what if you want a wife?"

"I cannot take a wife. It's against

my vows."

"So is mixing our bodies together

in an unholy union, and yet you have no problem with that."

He groaned. "Don't remind me. But I

don't see how such wonderful thing can be against God's wishes."

"Has your God ever actually given

you a directive to follow?"

"Well, there's the Bible."

"And who wrote that?"

"Ummmm..."

"I'm not trying to judge you good

father. I just desire that you come to grips with who you are. I did the same

for myself a very long time ago. Some things in life we cannot change no matter

how hard we try. But that doesn't mean we have to wallow in self pity. I

believe in living life to the fullest. "

She gracefully plucked a delicacy

from the tray and offered it to him.

"You see good father, not everyone

will rise to great heights. Some are cursed to remain low to the ground. You

may pity them and certainly you should extend a helping hand, but in the end

they must take their lives into their own hands. I have done just that, and by

being here I have had the delight of your fine company. So I have found my

decision to be worthwhile."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do. If I were repulsed

by you I would hide, never to be found again."

"So you stay here because of me?"

She laughed; a low sad sound.

"In part. I really do need to have

a place to hide and this old edifice has been the perfect haven for me. Your

presence here has made it the most exceptional of sanctuaries. So I find the

combination to be extraordinary."

He blushed, taking the proffered

food.

"I have found your continued

proximity to me to be a godsend, even if you feel it is not. I have never had

an experience like this in my life, unless you count my dreams."

"Speaking of which, have they

faded?"

"How could they continue to exist

when I have something as wonderful as you to chase them into the shadows?"

She sighed. "Then I can be content

in knowing I have done some small good."

"You have done great good!"

"Good - evil. Does either really

exist?"

"According to..."

"Yes, yes. According to your book.

I will at least believe in your belief good father, but nothing more."

After that they sat to eating and

staring, watching the few peasants below as they moved about from the halo cast

by one lamp to the glowing aura of another. Eventually tiring of watching, she

inquired about the bottle.

"This is something new. Food in a

flask?"

"Cognac! I used to drink much of

it, but I think I failed to enjoy it. Shall you share this bottle with me?"

"Ahhh. Wine made stronger by

boiling it."

"That isn't quite correct, but yes,

I suppose that could be said of it."

She picked up the glass vessel and

swirled the contents. "You have piqued my curiosity. Let me see how this liquid

settles in my stomach."

He took it from her, pried off the

wax seal and prized the stopper out of the neck. With a flourish he poured them

each a glassful. She sniffed hers, letting loose a light cough at the way it

tickled her nostrils. He lifted his to his nose, finding the scent to be

familiar and steadying. The first sip he took brought that familiar warm

feeling to his mouth.

She followed his lead, tipping the

glass into her mouth. She nearly spit it out.

"You drink this!"

It was his turn to be the wise one.

"It can be an acquired taste."

She took another swallow. "I see.

Sort of like me?"

"There are similarities."

"Such as?"

"Both the cognac and your presence

are extremely intoxicating to me."

He could sense her stiffened a

little, standing a bit taller.

"You are a very sweet man. I think

I like you."

"I like you too."

"I'm glad. It has been a long time

since I have had someone to be close to."

"Long?"

"Relatively speaking. What is time

but an intangible method of measuring something that doesn't actually exist?"

"Your words confuse me."

"Then I shall silence my tongue.

Some things are better said without the benefit of spoken language."

They refilled their glasses several

times more until the bottle lay on its side atop the cold gray stones. He and

she, as a couple; they too were there - close by - rolling on the only bed she

ever allowed them - his spread out robe. The alcohol made both of them all the more

amorous, if that were even possible In the heat of their passion they consummated

their feelings many times over.

Here and there they lapsed into slumber,

only to wake again and return to entwining their bodies in the most imaginable

ways possible. And so their tryst continued unabated and unabashed save for

their brief periods of rest.

Monsignor Delmonte eventually found

himself in that most familiar of positions, that of her being on top and he

laying there underneath, acting as outwardly stolid as he could manage while

wrestling with his roiling emotions. He had been doing admirably, but the

alcohol had managed to dissolve some of his newfound resolve. He lay there as

she pummeled his very essence with more sexuality than he ever thought was

possible. Her hips were a blur upon his loins as her hair flung in wild abandon

with each thrust.

He didn't think his body had any

more to give, and yet each time he found hidden reserves heretofore unbeknownst

to him.

As she climaxed for the eleventh or

twelfth time, he joined her for one last glorious ejaculation. Then exhaustion

took over and he fell asleep with her limp form sprawled across his chest and

belly. It was no bad thing, that. Her warmth was comforting and her anatomy

seemed to match his own in the most perfect way.

When he awoke again the morning

light was just making its way over the horizon. The black sky was giving way to

shades of gray, shielding the stars from his vision. His lover was still atop

him, breathing heavily to the point of very nearly snoring. Her hair was spread

about, some of it spilling across his face. He wanted nothing more than to

finally see her visage in even this, the palest of light.

He knew his promise, but as he had

neither torch nor lantern, he was in no way breaking that solemn oath. It was

the sun that would finally allow him to see she whom he had become so enamored

with.

Rays of light began to show

themselves, splashing patches of gold against the monochrome walls of the

cathedral. Where the couple lay there was still dark shadow. In the end though

it was no match for the morning's illumination. As the sun rose, he was able to

see more of her, from her pale skin - liked polished marble, to her hair -

black as coal.

He whispered into her ear, loathe

to wake her, but feeling a need to compliment her on her fine looks. Part of

him had felt that she must have once been disfigured in some way.

"You are truly sculpted from the

finest materials on Earth.."

She roused, yawned and opened her

eyes. At that moment he saw for the first time true fear. She shrieked with a

mix of indignation and unbridled terror as she saw his face with perfect clarity.

In the next instant his screams took over as her's were cut off.

It was hours before anyone heard

him. It wasn't often that anyone came up to the roof, for there was no logical reason

for them to be there. The monsignor's nocturnal visits were known, but as he

had been doing them for months now, no one thought to look there until he

didn't rouse for matins and to break his morning fast.

An impromptu search party found him

finally, and giving themselves the sign of the cross the entire time, removed

his nude body from the stones upon which it lay. He was still alive, and though

conscious, was babbling and making no sense at all. He was carried to his quarters,

laid in his bed where a vigil was kept while they awaited the physician.

An examination was done, and while

there was no recognizable injury, it was determined that the good priest was

suffering from at least exposure and was in the grip of some fright that had

driven from him his reason.

The next morning one of the

acolytes was charged cleaning up the debris on the rooftop balcony.

He came down, looking very

confused, a mere thirty minutes later. His superior listened to his tale, torn

between the desire to beat him for lying and the need to jump to his own feet

and see if his incredible story was genuine.

"But your worshipfulness; tis true.

I even took old Pierre with me, for I knew I could not move that monstrosity

back onto its perch. Not only was it gone from where we had pulled it off of Monsignor

Delmonte, there was no peg upon which to replace it."

"Peg? What peg?"

"My lord, that gargoyle had a hole

between its bent legs that was meant for a peg, I am sure. But neither the peg

nor the gargoyle was to be found anywhere atop the cathedral, and I'm telling

you we looked high and low."

"So what are you trying to tell me?

That this chunk of stone grew wings and flew away?'

"No your eminence, and yet..."