Hoff and Hols, a Romance Ch. 21

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As usual, I was awake well before Emma. I loved those moments so much, when I could just lie there, feeling her breathing next to me, and watching her sleep. Reluctantly, I roused myself and went to the bathroom. I was showered and dressed before Emma was awake, so I slipped downstairs to get her a cup of tea.

Gran was already up and had a coffee ready to kick-start me.

“Pixie, the Archbishop of Canterbury wants to see you before the Commission meets at 9:30. Can you be at Church house for 8:30?”

As it was only just 7 o’clock, I smiled and said that I thought it might be able to manage that. I took Emma her tea and, as she was finally awake told her the news.

“Oh, my love, I hope it is not about us?”

“I do too darling, but let’s not borrow trouble – I am sure others will provide it for free.”

Gran had the morning papers delivered, and I was correct in my prediction. ‘The Mail’, whose Sunday edition had suddenly had to change its lead story, ran a nasty little piece from one well-known commentator entitled: ‘Do shut up and go away!” which, among other choice phrases, advised me to “get off” my “high horse”, acknowledge that “the church was right” and realise that it was “only entitled liberals” like me who wanted a change that “the people” most certainly did not.

Other newspapers were more sympathetic, and it was clear that I was, again, “news.”

“How do you want to play this, Pixie?” Gran asked.

“I think I should await the Archbishop’s view and go from there.”

We agreed that was the approach most likely to yield fruit.

Mama was not up before I left, but Emma was, so I gave her a big hug and departed in the taxi Gran had ordered.

I had not met the Archbishop one on one, and like Emma, I wondered whether we were in for a re-run of the original saga.

On arrival I was shown into a private room where he was sitting. He offered me a coffee, which I accepted. Sitting, as he asked, he went on to say:

“You will be wondering what I want? Well, the first thing is to say I am, as any decent person would be, horrified by what happened to you on Saturday night. The second is to ask what you want to do about it? It dominated the papers yesterday, is in them this morning, and is bound to have an effect on our work this week.”

“Can I say two things, apart from thanking you for your sympathy? The first is that I hope you will announce an inquiry into what went on. It is clear that people associated with the Church were behind it.”

“On that Miss Hoff, may I call you Pixie? On that you have my solemn promise. I have already asked the Bishop of Oxford to head an inquiry. Your other comment?”

“Of course, you may, your Grace. I suspect you will say something about it at your address this morning. Will you give me a few minutes to make a comment?”

He looked a little relieved, but I saw a cloud pass across his smile.

“It depends on what you want to say.”

“I want to ask you to trust the Holy Spirit.”

He looked a little taken aback.

“I do not know what I am going to say, but I have asked for help and know it will be given.”

I could see him struggling, but to his credit, eventually he said:

“Okay, Pixie, for you, I shall!”

We chatted for a few moments more before his assistant came to say he was needed.

Coffeed-out, I lingered in the darkness of the rear part of the building until the called us to order. As I walked to the front, it felt like every eye was on me. The Archbishop’s assistant showed me to my seat. You could have heard a pin drop as the Archbishop asked us to pray.

After that he began to speak:

“We are all aware from the Sunday papers that something horrible happened to one of our delegates, Miss Pixie Hoff. I am sure that she has been in your prayers as she has in mine. I am announcing now that I have asked the Bishop of Oxford, her home diocese, to lead an inquiry into what went on. If anyone associated with the Church is found to be guilty of entrapment, there will be penalties from us as well as the secular courts.”

There was a round of applause.

“I also want to ask Miss Hoff to say a few words. She asked me if I would let her do so, unvetted, and I am happy to let her. Pixie, will you come up to address us?”

Rather helpfully, he adjusted the microphone so it was at my height.

I had never spoken live to such a big audience. Television was one thing, but this? So I treated it like a lecture.

“I would like to thank His Grace for this. I would like to thank all of you who have prayed for me. Someone told me that what happened was ‘unforgivable’, well, it wasn’t. I forgive those involved.”

There was a ripple of applause.

“If I said, ‘they know not what escort kocaeli they do,’ I might not be going too far. They knew exactly what they thought they were doing. But I am not sure they knew what they were really doing.”

I could hear intakes of breath.

“They were partakers in one of the oldest, and I think saddest, of traditions of the Church – underrating and demonising women. Pope Gregory the Great is a pope we English hold in affection, he it was who sent the first ever holder of the See held by His Grace to Canterbury. But not all his actions were so beneficial. He it was who conflated the Mary Magdalene, who was introduced in Luke 8:2, with Mary of Bethany inLuke 10:39 and the unnamed “sinful woman” who anointed Jesus’s feet in Luke 7:36–50. It shows how easy it is to associate the sin of our first mother, Eve, with all women. What we know now is that she was a strong, independent woman who supported Jesus financially and spiritually.”

There was another round of applause, more sporadic.

“She was an Apostle. What happened to her shows how easy it is to tar women. In their attempt to smear me, those who oppose what I stand for, and the scholarship I represent, showed that they are not interested in discussion; they want to win. They do not care how they do that. They are the spiritual descendants of those Pharisees upon whom Our Lord cried woe in Matthew 23:4, because ‘they bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers.’ We can, we must, do better than that.”

This time the applause was louder and more sustained.

“I can forgive them for what they tried to do to me, but it is not up to me to forgive them for the burdens they lay on others. What I would like to suggest to you today, and to His Grace, is that we agree here that we shall go out and ask the laity their views. We hear much of what this, or that, Church group think. But have we consulted the laity? Have we educated ourselves to do so? In finishing I want to make an announcement, which is that if this Church will put up £50k towards the cost of an educative consultation process with the laity, I pledge to raise the same amount. We owe it to ourselves, and to our mission, to be better than those whose reaction to love is to mistake it for sex. Thank you!”

The applause was deafening. I could see that some delegates were not clapping, but others were on their feet. The Archbishop shook my hand.

“Thank you, Pixie, and yes, we shall commit that £50,000 when you have raised the same amount.”

Anticipating that might be his reaction I had arranged things with Gran.

“Thank you, Your Grace. I am pleased here, before you all, to hand over a cheque for £50,000.”

That seem to nonplus him. I was rather pleased by that. Politics might be beyond me, but with Gran’s help, I had outflanked the hierarchy; they had to put the money up.

So, something positive did come from the first meeting of the Commission. It was agreed that there would be a Group set up to lead the consultation with the laity, as well as a special Working Party to oversee the publications. Given my own contribution, I was appointed to both groups. As I said to Gran, and Emma, I had been right to trust the Holy Spirit. The attempt to discredit me had not only backfired, but it had also left my enemies weakened, not least as there was a Commission set up to inquire into what had happened.

Gran kindly send a car to take Emma and I back to Oxford, but before we left on the Tuesday night, he asked for a quiet word with me.

“Pixie, you have done well, but a word to the wise if I might? The press are going to keep digging in the hope of finding something. If I were to offer you any advice, it would be that Emma should not spend many nights at North Parade for the next few weeks.”

Emma and I discussed it on our way home and agreed, reluctantly, that much wisdom lay in that advice. As it transpired, Gran was spot on, George the porter told us a few days later that there had been men in the college first thing of a morning asking if Emma would be free to talk at nine. None of them ever made an appointment, but it was clear that they were checking on whether she was sleeping in College. Lady F also noticed strangers lingering around North Parade in the early morning. I hoped they admired AK in her uniform.

The reverberations of the honeytrap continued for some time, but as with all such investigations, the one conducted by the Church was slow and yielded no fast results, which meant it dropped out of the press quite quickly. But Emma and I continued to heed Gran’s advice.

The term seemed to shoot by. I settled into a rhythm with the thesis which gölcük escort gave me Thursday and Friday at home to look after Issy; the work went well. The news that the Archbishop of York had made my little book one of his “books of the year”, was welcome, and meant a boost in sales. That gave me even more credibility with the publishers with whom we were discussing the series of books designed to help educate people on the latest scholarship.

It was interesting to watch AK back at work. Her natural authority was somehow increased by her being in uniform, and I could see that, much though she adored being a mother, her energies and intelligence needed another outlet. She adapted to the changes well, as did Issy, who when she saw AK in her uniform on the first morning back at work asked:

“Mummy wedding again? Issy want dress!”

We explained that this time, Mummy was not getting married, she was going to work to help others.

“Issy like help. Issy good!”

Which simply made us both tear up. I took Issy to the playgroup on my way to the library and picked her up later. The whole thing worked perfectly. Issy gave me the relaxation I would not otherwise have had, and work clearly brought out the best in Ann, who got glowing reports from her new superiors. It was a delight to see her succeed.

The one fly in the ointment was that Emma still had to spend nights back in College, just in case.

AK got back from work on the Thursday before term ended looking very pleased.

“Another commendation, Squirt. I’d feared that losing all that time would bugger up my career, but it is working well, Where’s Issy?”

“Well done, darling!” I said, hugging her. “Issy is round at her friend Beth’s house, Beth’s mum suggested that she’d give her supper and bring her back later. I made something for us, Lady F has already eaten.”

AK beamed.

“You know, Squirt, you’d make someone the perfect wife one day.”


“Yes, you are just ideal. You look after Issy like a natural, and she loves you. You get on with your own stuff but always make time for me, Lady F and Emma. You are about the most unselfish little thing ever.”

She gave me a big hug.

Her words made me happy. Outside my own sphere, where I always felt fine, I remained less certain. There was an element in my care for others that was purely unselfish, but I was not blind to it as originating, in part, from a desire to be noticed and loved by my own Mama. That it had failed, did not eliminate it. Somewhere in my subconscious had always lingered the hope that I would one day win her approval. Now I had, it was still a part of my make up. I liked to please. But thanks to Emma, and AK, I realised that I could be loved, too. I had not examined the question of what it might be like if I was not “good;” that desire was too firmly rooted in who I was.

After supper, there was a knock on the door, and I went to let Issy and Beth’s mother, Julie, in.

“We’re just about to have a cup of coffee, would you like one?”

“Thanks, yes, Des is looking after Beth. Hi AK!”

We settle down in the to our coffees and a catch up.

AK told us all about work and asked how Issy was getting on.

“Oh, she and Beth are just so cute together. Issy is so funny sometimes. She told us earlier that she had two mummies.” She looked at us curiously. “Can I ask a question?”

“If it is whether Pixie and I are lovers, the answer is yes!”

Julie looked suitably intrigued.

“Oh, I see! I hadn’t realised you were gay, AK, I knew about Pix of course – but then the whole of Oxford does after last year and what happened last month. Does Keith know?”

AK leaned back, stretching her long legs.

“I’m not gay, Jules, I just happen to like making love to women as well as men. Pixie and I have been lovers since we were in the sixth-from at school.”

“Gosh! So, well, erm,” she blushed and stammered, “how does that work with Keith?”

“Oh, Keith knows, and is fine with it. He says it’s better than me with another bloke when he is at sea.”

Julies giggled.

“I guess! Erm, do you both, you know?”

“What, fuck Keith, hell no, Pix is strictly a woman’s woman.”

“I am, darling, but to correct you a bit,” I said, looking at Julie, “we may have been lovers physically since we were in the sixth-form, but I think I have been in love with you since I first set eyes on you.”

“Aww, that is so sweet!” Julie smiled.

“She’s a soppy little thing, but,” AK said, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek, “but she’s right, I have been in love with her for years.”

“Can I ask, Pixie, as I know you are religious, how does that square, like, with, well what you believe?”

I looked at izmit sınırsız escort her, AK intervened:

“Be careful Jules, you will get a min-sermon from her,” she giggled.

“It’s fine, I’d like to know. Can I have a top up?”

I topped up her coffee, and AK’s.

“It’s pretty simple. God is love. He loves me and did so before I knew what love was. I know it because of his love. What I feel for AK is deep and lasting, and when we were of age, inevitably that love took physical form. AK loves me, but also Keith, but in different ways physically. I don’t think it is a problem, to be honest!”

“When you put it like that,” said Julie, not finishing her own sentence. She seemed to be struggling with her thoughts, before blurting out:

“Sod it, I have got this far, I might as well ask. AK, I’ve sort of wondered what it would be like, you know, with another woman, I don’t suppose you’d, you know?”

Julie’s face was beetroot red.

“What?” Said AK, “help you find out?”

“Oh fuck, sorry, I, I shouldn’t have….”

“What would your Des think?” I asked.

Julie blushed deeper.

“He and I have talked about me with a woman, and he gets off on the idea, so I am guessing he wouldn’t mind.”

AK’s smiled broadened.

“Okay Jules, be happy to induct you. Do you want to think about when?”

“Well,” she said, “I don’t have to be back home for an hour or so, as Des is putting Beth down. So how about now – if you have time?”

AK looked at me.

“Pix, can we use your room? Issy will need bathing and settling down, can I leave that to you?”

“Of course,” I said.

I felt a tingle as AK and Julie went to my room but contained myself.

Lady F had been reading to Issy, as she did most evenings.

“Bedtime for Issy,” she smiled.

“Mummy bath Issy?”

“No, darling,” I said to her, “Pixie bath Issy.”


Lady F smiled at me.

“You’re so good with her, Pixie. It’s a joy to see you two together.”

I bathed Issy, who was tired. By the time I was drying her, she was nodding off. I took her to her room and sung her a lullaby. By the time I had finished, she was fast asleep. I kissed her and quietly left the room.

As I passed my door, I heard the sounds of passion, so went down to see Lady F, with whom I loved to discuss the events of the day.

“AK up to something, Pixie?”

I told her what was happening in my room.

“That woman is insatiable. I don’t know where she gets the energy!”

We agreed that if AK’s appetite for food matched her appetite for sex, then she’d be enormous!

Lady F was interested in the publishing project, and had some good ideas about authors and formats, but my mind kept wandering. Eventually I heard footsteps on the stairs. I excused myself.

AK and Julie both looked flushed, the former was just in her robe.

“Hi Squirt!”

Julie looked a bit embarrassed.

“Tell her, Jules!”

“Oh Pixie, it was wonderful, I totally get it after that. Thanks AK!”

They hugged and Julie got her coat and, with more thanks, left.

“Squirt, get upstairs, I need to cum!”

The sight of that sexy arse ahead of me, had me wet before I got to the room. The bed was in disarray, the room smelt of sex.

“Suck my fingers, Squirt!”

As AK sat on the bed, I knelt. Her fingers tasted of Julie’s pussy.

Her eyes locked on mine.

“Do you like tasting another woman’s pussy on my fingers, Squirt? I all but wanted you here to eat her out but was too busy finger fucking her. She came like a freight train, that wet patch on your bed is her. Good girl, suck!”

AK knew full well the effect her words were having on me.

“My cunt, now!”

She pulled me closer, putting her legs across my shoulders. I could feel the raw, animal emotion. She needed her little cunt-muncher! So I obliged.

She was so wet and urgent that she rubbed her wetness into my face, moving my head, side to side as though I was her masturbation aid. Somehow, I managed to get my tongue between her lips, but I knew what she needed, and let her grind on me.

AK must have been close when we started, as she began moaning within minutes.

“Would you like to have munched her too, Squirt? Yes, fuck, yes, yes, oh fuck yes. She has such nice big tits too, Squirt, you’d like them!”

I could sense her words were taking her to where she needed to be in record time, though, since she had spent an hour with Julie, I totally got where that urgency came from. I also got her juices all over my face as she came hard, with a loud and low moan of,

“Fuck, fuckkkkkkkk!”

There were aftershocks, so I took advantage of her letting go on my head to begin to lick her and clean her up.

Once she had calmed down, she pulled me up next to her on the bed, my top marked with her juices.

“Sorry Squirt! I needed that.”

I hugged her.

“I know, sometimes you just need a good hard cunt munching!”

“Thanks Squirt, you are the best!”

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