I
went over my options for the day. It seemed as empty as my vagina. Grocery
shopping was imperative. I did like pushing the cart slowly up and down the
aisles while eyeing any men with subtle glances and pursed lips to entice them,
arouse them and make them uncomfortable as I pulled back my shoulders to extend
my cleavage while turning away from them with a butt wiggle. Men were so fun to
play with, so easily excitable.
But
I need more than stupid games. My husband has been away on a business trip for
the whole week. This is my school fall break, so as a teacher I had complete
freedom for the entire week to play and no one to play with. I was too young at
32 to spend the day moping or mopping around the house by myself. My husband
wasn't the greatest lover anyway and there were so many men who might be.
His
business trip was opportunity pounding on my door, an opportunity for a hot new
man to play with. Lord knows I need to fondle a new man who I didn't already
know how he would react and behave. I desperately need a hard hot dick I can
hold in my hands, rub all over my body, savor in my mouth, before feeling it
reciprocating into me, preferably attached to an enthusiastic male in his
twenties with a ripped body, and if he has a sexy face, hallelujah.
I
love the smell of new men, but sitting alone at my kitchen table with only the
scent of a morning cup of coffee made this all an idle improbable daydream. I
really, really, needed a man but I didn't expect that would occur. It seemed I
didn't have a prayer. The only thing that was hot in my life now was a fucking
cup of coffee. Please God, I need a new conquest, I want my blood to be hotter
than my coffee.
The
doorbell rang echoing throughout the house. I wiped off my hands and went to
answer the door. As I looked through the viewport I saw a trim young man about
my height, maybe thirty years old at most and wearing a clerical collar. He was
alone.
“Maybe
there is a God,” I thought to myself as I opened the door to him, smiling,
“Yes?” Fresh air brightened my morning.
“My
name is Richard Love,” he said, “I'm the new pastor at your neighborhood church
and I'd like to talk to you about Jesus Christ.”
I
stepped back beckoning him in. My vagina began throbbing.
“I
was just having some coffee, I'll pour you a cup.”
The
Reverend followed me into the kitchen and I placed another chair alongside mine
at the table and patted it for him to sit. I grabbed another cup along with the
rumbling percolator to fill two cups of coffee. I sat next to him, turning so
we were more face to face. My t-shirt covered my cleavage, but I pushed out my
chest to strain the material as much as I could.
“You're
the pastor at the church around the corner?” I asked leaning forward placing my
hand on his thigh.
“That's
right, and I would encourage you to come to our services this Sunday.” His eyes
alternated from my face to my breasts.
“Reverend
Love,” I began, “Richard, may I call you Dick?”
“You
may.”
Dick
was exactly what I was after.
“Well,
I haven't been to church recently, my husband mostly worships money and I like
to consider my body my temple.” I turned my shoulders back and forth to
emphasize my body, bouncing my breasts.
“I
understand,” he said, having difficulty speaking, “it's a busy world and weh,
we lose sight of religion. Do you believe in God?” He was no longer even trying
to look at my eyes. I wasn't wearing a bra and my rising excitement pushed my
nipples against the restraining t-shirt.
“I
do now,” I answered. He was definitely the answer to my prayers this morning.
He put his palms together prayerfully in front of him and looked earnestly at
me.
“I
pray for your sins in the name of Jesus Christ.”
I
scooted closer to him and took apart his hands and placed them palms down on my
chest.
“Do
you practice laying on the hands?”
He
squirmed awkwardly and tried to remove his hands but I held them tightly,
sliding them down onto my breasts, leaning closer into him. I could smell his
sweat and feel his hands warming.
“I
would like to practice laying on hands,” I persisted.
“We
don't practice that, unfortunately, we are more concerned with the spiritual
relationship with God.” He tried to remain solemn but his voice quavered.
“Do
you have the spirit of God?” I asked, letting his hands return palms together
but I still held his wrists.
“I
believe we all have the spirit of God within us,” he replied.
“I
would like to have the spirit of God within me,” I winked at him, “if you are
the spirit of God.”
“Mam,
I think you misunderstand.” His face trembled. I wondered if he knew my perfume
was named “Diablo.”
“Don't
you work with sinners? Or do you only preach to the choir?” I pursed my lips as
if I was pouting.
“Well,
yes, I mean …” he answered, looking fixedly at my eyes.
“I'm
a sinner,” I wrinkled my nose, “and I have needs.”
I
leaned much closer to him so that his pressed-together hands also pressed
against my breasts and my lips softly touched his. Maybe it was my hot heavy
breathing that spooked him. He leaned away from me and stood, pulling me up
with him as I refused to release his hot hands. Staggering backward he was
quickly blocked by the sink counter so his upper body leaned away but I pressed
my lower body against his as I kept pursuing his lips. I could feel a pointed
hardness.
“I
think you misunderstand,” he repeated. He seemed to be trying to climb onto the
counter while I bounced slowly on the balls of my feet so rubbing against him.
“Don't
you believe in God?” I asked, arching an eyebrow, pressing my cleavage toward
his face.
“I
believe in Jesus Christ and the Father.” His words spilled out mechanically.
“God
sent you to me. I prayed and you came.” I rotated my hips pressing against his.
I could feel his delicious hardness right through my skirt. I released his
hands so I could pull the skirt out from between us, I wasn't wearing panties.
“Please,
I am a man of God,” he pleaded.
“And
God sent you to me, don't you see?” I pulled with my hands on each side of his
head smothering his face with my forty inch bust, “Are you doubting God?”
“No.
I don't think God wants me to do this.”
“God
works in mysterious ways,” I said, “you've never heard that?”
“I
am a minister,” he began, but I cut him off.
“God
sent you to minister to my needs. I prayed and you came,” I reached between us
and fondled him, “now I want you to really come.” He let out a weak squealing
protest as I closed my hand around his erection.
“Please
don't.”
“I
need you, and God sent you. Are you going to defy God? Tell me. Are you going
to defy God!”
“I
minister to spiritual needs, not physical needs.” He turned his head away from
my bust.
“You
don't believe that Jesus was of the flesh?” I whispered hotly into his ear.
“He
was of the flesh and died for your sins,” he replied as I put my tongue into
his ear.
“And
what sins might that be?” I continued to caress his cock but I feared if I
continued he wouldn't be of much use to me, “Perhaps of this nature?”
I
pulled off my t-shirt, my breasts remained erect. I unbuttoned my skirt letting
it fall to the floor with a quick step back reaching quickly into my purse to
grab a condom.
“Close
your eyes,” I ordered. He resisted at first. My momentary step away from him
allowed him to become more upright. When he saw me completely nude his eyes
widened then he shut them. I began unfastening his trousers. He reached to stop
me but I freed his belt and unzipped his fly. He whimpered as his trousers
slipped to the floor.
“Noooo.”
His voice tapered off as my hands invaded his boxer shorts.
“You
must do God's will. Why did he send you here if not to minister to my needs?”
I
grabbed his hands trying to push me away and placed them on my breasts, bare
now to his touch. He was leaning back on his elbows, still bent over backwards
on the counter, but his nude masculine legs were a new enticement.
“You
must do God's bidding,” I commanded, pressing my body against him as I slid
slowly to the floor, kneeling. His erection protruded from the opening of his
boxer shorts. I placed the condom tip into my mouth and then engorged his
penis, unrolling the condom in one swift movement with my lips. I bobbed my
head to take advantage of the circumstances, then pulled away and looked up at
him.
“It's
time,” I said and pulled his hand toward me. He tried to remain standing so I
rose quickly, sliding my breasts along his body until they straddled his throat
while rubbing my mons against his cock, “It's time to minister, Reverend. On
the floor.”
I
dragged him to the floor while he seemed to be crying. I arranged him on his
back with my knee on either side of his hips. I unbuttoned his shirt so I had
access to his chest. I wanted to fondle his breasts like men fondled me when
they were on top. I lowered on him slowly while guiding his erection with my
hand.
“God
wants you in me,” I said softly as his full size penetrated me enjoyably, “you
are of the flesh. Jesus' flesh, and I am of Mary Magdalene.”
“Please
no,” he whimpered but he stopped resisting. I exulted at the feeling of him
completely inside me. The spirit of God glowed throughout my body. I needed
this. I needed this new man fully inside me, as my hands massaged his chest.
I
could feel an orgasm building. I had barely even moved and yet my vagina began
to harden. I raised slightly then settled and as he glided inside me my vagina
walls started becoming rigid with excitement so only the edges of his glans
barely scraped against them. This was more than I'd hoped for, or prayed for.
I
rose slightly and lowered again, sending sparks of ecstasy jolting through my
insides. This was heavenly. I prayed he wouldn't come yet as waves of heat and
quivers echoed within me. I gently rocked against him sending him deeper;
quivering spasms ran from his penetration up my spine to flare across my
shoulders. I was hardening all over, my breasts were erect with protruding
nipples. I chanced raising and lowering again and I began shaking, panting.
“Oh,
God,” I called out. I couldn't stop raising and lowering. The Reverend seemed
to be praying, lips moving half open with his eyes closed, but his face was
melting. His rigidity remained fully extended, the edges of his glans tickling
the rigid walls of my vagina along the full length as I rose and plunged on
him.
Breathing
heavily as if I was laboring, my body began sweating to shed the heat. I
delighted at the merging smells of our combined odors of sweating flesh and
colognes. Fiery sensations flowed into my abdomen.
“Almighty
God,” I gasped, choking it out as fluids seemed to release from everywhere. I
drooled, my nose congested, tears flowed from my eyes, my vagina spurted
liquid, sweat poured from my brow, I began practically hopping up and down on
him and he convulsed upward inside me. Suddenly I was convulsing, I nearly
screamed in joy. My elbows wouldn't hold me anymore and I fell on him, barely
able to breathe.
Then
I did scream and stretched full length on him, my entire body rigid until it
melted into bliss. Reverend Dick, bless his soul, remained stolid beneath me,
running his hands softly up and down my bare quivering back, and somehow he
remained inside me despite my convulsions, his hardness securely in the grasp
of a melted vagina.
This
was definitely a gift from God. Ecstasy heaven sent. This new man within me was
exactly what I pleaded for this morning, and God delivered the joy I so longed
for, more joy than I even imagined. I managed to raise my head enough to kiss
Reverend Dick with a slow soppy full-on smothering smooch. His hands went from
my back to soothe my tingling breasts. I rejoiced at that.
“My
prayers were answered,” I whispered.
“I'm
not a priest,” he replied.
“What?”
“I
don't have to be celibate.”
“I'll
celebrate,” I replied.
“Do
you have these needs often?” he asked.
I
was too enchanted to reply, but I knew I was getting religion.