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My Church Lady

Category: Mature
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It happened about twenty years ago, and it was, quite simply, the most intense sexual experience of my life. (Please allow me the courtesy of having changed names, not identifying the locale and dialogue as I remember it)

I lived with my divorced mother a mile or two from where the suburbs gave way to the country, and right next to a small Baptist church. Right next to the Pastor’s house actually. The church was on the other side of his house.

Pastor Bob and his wife Carol were in their early thirties, and two of the nicest people you could ever meet. They made an effort to get my mother and I to join the church, but mother was a Methodist and I was nothing. I did, however, help out at the church from time to time. It was something to do, and I like to go on hay rides (I drove it), participate in barbeques and other stuff, which was okay, especially for meeting girls. I even dated one in high school.

A few months before I turned eighteen, things turned upside down at the church. Pastor Bob, to everyone’s surprise—and I do mean everyone—admitted he was gay, and would leave his church and wife to “find himself” in California. Carol cried for days, the church had board meetings every night, and Bob left as quick as he could. The church tried to get another pastor, but decided to merge with another congregation after a week or so instead. Carol was allowed to stay in her house (provided by the church) for a year, providing she do or have done maintenance on the house and church. That’s where I came in.

I helped out with lawn mowing, painting and little things. One fussy board member made sure there were plenty of things to do. Carol and I found him a pain, but it sort of became us against him, which was cool. It was cool because I liked Carol—a lot. She was attractive, friendly and fun. We even shared birthdays. The fact that she was unattainable, always modestly dressed and older somehow added to her attraction. I was always checking out her legs, her rear, the thrust of her breast against a white cotton blouse or something similar (never a tee shirt!). Just getting a glimpse of her white bra through the gap in her arm was a victory for shy me. In short, though, everything about her was feminine and sexy.

Because we lived in the country and because most of the church members avoided Carol outside of church, we became closer and closer. Carol was lonely, a little depressed probably, and unable to find a decent job. All she could find was part-time bookkeeping position for a man she didn’t like. We became buddies, sort of. When painting, we’d paint each other a little, or Carol would tickle me on the ladder when I was holding something. I responded by tickling her feet once when we were taking a break in the grass beneath a tree. She went wild, and I found all the kicking and teasing of her toes a big turn on.

My 18th birthday fell on a Thursday that year, but I had a party planned for Saturday. My mother baked a cake on Thursday though,, and she gave me a leather jacket I’d been wanting. That was cool, but even cooler was the fact that it was her bowling league night, which would keep her out late. As soon as she left, I took some cake over to Carol, who had been crying, I’m sure. She covered, but I thought I could tell. I stayed with her for cake and coffee (milk for me), and she asked me if I wanted to stay and watch a video. I said “Of course” and we went to sit on the couch to watch “Flashdance”.

As I returned from putting in the cassette, Carol reached out and spanked me playfully. I tried to pull away, but she reached out to hold me and gave me six or eight spanks. We were kind of entwined, so I quickly turned the tables on her, pulled her over my lap as I sat down on the sofa. She screamed girlishly, as I had her firmly in my grip, kind of scissoring her legs with mine and holding both her hands behind her back. The best part was that her housedress rode well up on her legs, exposing the back of her legs almost up to her rear. I was breathless with excitement and began spanking her rear with my left hand, which was awkward.

Carol kicked and screamed, but it wasn’t a “STOP NOW” scream, so I continued. Each time I spanked her at an angle, her dress rode up a little more. She kicked and wiggled and said “No, no, my dress!!” but I just said “You started it, now I’m going to finish it.”

By the tenth whack, I could see white panties and the curve of her rear. Wow! I mean WOW! I was seeing an adult woman’s rear. I kept spanking, losing count when she gasped “My panties! I’m exposed! Stop STOP!! You can’t DO this to me!

I can’t remember what I said exactly, but what I did was perhaps the first bold move with the other sex in my life. I pulled her dress higher and began spanking her butt directly. Carol shrieked loudly and tried to get out ofw5Äegrip, but I held her tightly.

“Where was I?….How many was that, and how old ARE you? I said. Thirty? Forty? and kept spanking.

“No Way!!” she gasped. Thirty-two, and you can stop now.”

I responded that I was only at 25, and gave her seven, more slow (so I could feel her rear better) slaps and a final (luscious) pinch of her bare side-cheek, which made her jump. I let her up and she sputtered some words and gave me a glare and went to her kitchen out of sight. I worried that I’d gone too far and she was pissed. I was right. She came back holding a glass of water and said “I’m really mad at you right now” and went to her bedroom, closing the door. I felt awful. I HAD gone too far, I guess, and I’d hurt someone I really liked.

The thrill of seeing Carol’s panties and her rear was now tainted. I called out that I was sorry and apologized several different ways, but she didn’t come out. Ten minutes went by, fifteen, twenty. My apologies met with silence. I decided I’d better go, and was thinking about what to tell my mother, when I went to her door and knocked softly. There was no answer, so I pushed it open, calling out to her and apologizing as I did. Carol was sitting on her bed with arms crossed. I tried to apologize again, but she cut me off with a wave of her hand, Then it was silent before Carol spoke.

“I’m really mad at you. I’m vulnerable right now, and being pinned in your arms made me feel extra vulnerable. Plus, I have no experience with men, really, and I don’t know if what happened was playful fun or not. No one besides my husband has ever—ever—seen my underwear. On the other hand, it’s just underwear. That’s why it’s confusing a little. You didn’t see much more than you would if we went to Lake ________. So I don’t know what to think. And you’re freaking out…well, you SHOULD be! Spanking an old woman!! Oh, come here, I can see you’re terrified. She opened her arms and stood up to hug me. I hugged her back, and we held each other for a brief instant before she said “Out! Out of my bedroom you scoundrel. Let’s go watch that movie.”

We got some soda, made some popcorn, and I got up to put the tape in when Carol stopped me.

This is going to sound odd, but can we not watch the movie? Can we just talk? I said “Sure” and sat down near Carol, who immediately started crying and reached for me. We hugged awkwardly and held each other while she cried. It was a tender moment and I had about zero experience in that area, so I said nothing. Carol said nothing for awhile then asked me to lie down. “Here, just hold me for a while. I need to be held.”

So we held each other laying down on the couch, Carol sniffling, blowing her nose, telling me bits and pieces about her shame, loneliness, how much she treasured me, how lost she felt, how angry she was that most of the church congregation was practically shunning her, and again how vulnerable. I said almost nothing, which was apparently okay, and just caressed her back (making care not to touch her butt!) and hugged her occasionally. My hand fell asleep, but I said nothing. My face and lips were against Carol’s face, so it seemed natural for me to kiss her cheek or ear when she wept. My heart leaped when she did the same to me. Maybe I was taking advantage of her, but a guy has feelings. And speaking of those feelings, Carol must have felt a hard and healthy penis against her, but she said nothing.

We had held each other for almost an hour, when Carol responded to one of my hugs with a hug of her own.

“That feels so good. I haven’t been held a lot. Bob was always tired or made some excuse to avoid anything but minimal contact with me. I know that’s a pretty adult thing to be laying on a boy—sorry—a young man, but you’re smart enough to understand. That’s another thing that makes me vulnerable. I wondered if I was woman enough, if it was me that had a problem….You’re spanking my butt is about the only physical contact I’ve had in….oh, you don’t want to know.

She drew back and looked at me. “Did you enjoy that? Spanking me?”

I blushed and fumbled for words.

“You did, didn’t you? You liked seeing my rear, teasing me.”

I sort of nodded.

It’s alright. I felt naughty, which was very, very different. I didn’t realize it until I stewed in the bedroon for a half hour, or whatever it was. When Carol saw my wide eyes, she gave me a haughty turn of her head and said she never should have told me anything. I reached down towards her rear, but she stopped me.

“I think there’s been enough groping for one night.” I must have looked disappointed, for she took that moment to give me a quick kiss on the lips. Our first kiss. Then we kissed again, longer and passionately.

Carol broke away first. “Okay. I think we better stop there.”

We hugged a little more, each of us damp from sweat and tears, then kissed one final time at the door, but away from the door window, just in case someone might see us. Carol thanked me again and put a finger to my lips, as if to indicate silence. I nodded. I began walking home after our good-byes, but stopped and gathered a few small flowers by garage light and went back to leave them on Carol’s doorstep. I found out later they were a big hit. (Guys take note!!!).

Friday night was the last school dance and Saturday my party. I had a great time at each, but Carol wasn’t far from my thoughts. I went by her house Sunday after church and lunch. She was weeding her vegetable garden and greeted me pleasantly, but nothing out of the ordinary. I would have done anything to be around her, so I helped. her weed, and we chatted about this and that. No mention of Thursday night. Not a word. I snuck glances at her legs and rear as she worked, imagining all kinds of things to pass the time.

We took a break for lemonade, and by then both of us were sweating and a little dirty. We sat down in the shade of a tree at a picnic table and enjoyed what small breeze there was.

“I’ve been thinking about you” Carol said. “Probably too much. One part of me says I’m thirty-two and should not go anywhere near you. Another part says what’s the harm? We haven’t done anything. We’re just friends, and look where playing by the rules got me. I tried reading the bible for guidance and gave up. Then I started thinking about you partying with your friends and I was a little jealous. Afraid you’d find some girl and forget about me. Which is so, so stupid. It’s just my loneliness out here…”

I said that I’d thought about her a lot. She asked me “How?” and I said I was amazed that a woman as special as she was would spend time with me.

“Who else gives me flowers? Bob never gave me flowers, not once”.

We talked some more, but I can’t remember a thing. I only remember Carol staring at me, smiling. She invited me over later to watch a movie or play Scrabble, which we had done several times.

Carol was watching 60 Minutes when I got there and we ended up watching that and a movie of the week or something. What I do remember is that we were both feeling a little awkward sitting next to each other, then Carol got a blanket (not really necessary) and we got closer, held hands kind of, then grew more and more bold as we tickled each other and snuggled. In the end we kissed each other and made-out like teenagers for two hours, with Carol on top of me for a good part of that. It was heaven. I could feel her breasts against me, the pressure of our groins pushing together. I caressed her bare back, and once tried to slip my hands down into her pants, but Carol stopped me. She did let me caress her butt through her pants as we kissed, which was nice, and still a big deal.

Nothing happened until Thursday night, when my mother bowled. I snuck over to Carol’s as soon as my mother’s car was out of sight. I knocked on her door, and it almost seemed as if Carol was waiting for me. We kissed, a stand-up adult kiss, and Carol got me hard instantly with the news that she had missed me. I couldn’t believe my good luck. An adult woman had missed ME and was even so open as to admit it. Carol made some popcorn, and we settled in to watch TV, but you can guess how much TV we actually watched. We were holding hands and kissing before the first commercial. Carol had on a plain white blouse and a skirt, tan colored I think, and looked very womanly. I teased her by throwing a piece of popcorn down her blouse, which she retrieved and started to pop in her mouth, but gave to me instead. That seemed sexy to me, and soon we were kissing passionately, with Carol back on top of me. I gradually worked the hem of her skirt up by caressing her rear some more, which she must have realized. She didn’t protest, but she did stop to get a blanket. Once again, it wasn’t cold, but Carol was shy. Before long I had my hands on the back of Carol’s bare legs and that lovely, soft part that transitions from leg to butt. Carol didn’t stop me this time. She was more passionate than ever, actually. I was in heaven, caressing her rear through her panties, then gradually working my hands inside the leg bands to pull at her full and oh-so-feminine ass cheeks. All the while I was kissing Carol, from her lips to her ears to her neck. She kept making little noises of pleasure, which made me as hard as anything physical that was happening. In fact, I discovered that I could make her squeal in delight by grabbing her ass cheeks and pulling them apart. She seemed embarrassed by this and kind of hid her face from me when it happened. I didn’t overdo it, but would pull her ceeks firmly every few minutes, just to get the reaction.

As I was kissing Carol’s neck, I unbuttoned the top button of her blouse very cautiously. To my great surprise and delight, she unbuttoned the next few buttons herself and pulled me towards her. I kissed every inch of her chest not covered by her plain white bra. I even kissed her tummy below her bra at one point, and made an effort to undo Carol’ bra, but she stopped me.

“Let’s not right now. I’m…I just want to go slow. I have so many conflicting emotions right now. Don’t feel bad. You’ve made me feel more excited than I’ve ever felt in my life. I’m serious. Bob always wanted to be proper. He was never….sexy, and now we all know why. But let’s not talk about that.

We kissed and hugged some more until I raced home to beat my mother’s return. Once in my room, I lay on the bed in the dark re-living the gloriously exciting evening, and relieving my aching balls not once, but twice.

Friday night Carol invited my mother and I over for dinner. It was nice to see her, but she was church proper, and we were back home by 9. She did manage to praise my work and help to her, which my mother appreciated, saying something about how single women needed a little extra help, had to stick together and blah, blah, blah.

Graduation parties and other things intruded over the next week, and I barely got to see Carol at all. I mowed her lawn and the church lawn, but both places were empty. Come Thursday night, however, Carol was waiting for me as soon as my mother left. I didn’t even have to knock on the door. Carol asked if I had been thinking about her, and seemed hurt when I lied and said I had been busy. I came clean when I saw her face, though, and told her I thought of her constantly. She said the same about me, and soon the kitchen door blind was down and Carol was sitting in my lap kissing me passionately in between her remarks about her weight being too much for me. Her weight did get to be a bit much eventually, so she stood next to a chair while I slipped my hands up the back of her legs beneath her skirt. My hands automatically went inside the leg holes of her pantie to hold her full and cool rear. I hugged her tightly to me, and undid the bottom two buttons on her usual plain blouse to kiss her stomach. I pulled my hands out of Carol’ panties after a few minutes and slid one of them up her inner thighs, but I felt Carol tense. I knew it was her way of saying “No”, so I retreated and walked Carol backward to the couch, kissing her as we went. The blanket was already there.

I don’t remember much conversation that night. We kissed and groped each other beneath the blanket and I got my first feel of Carol’s breasts through her bra, focusing on the slightly firmer area that I knew were her nipples. I again made an effort to unsnap Carol bra, but she stopped me and abruptly went to the bathroom. I thought maybe I had done something wrong, and was framing an apology when she returned, holding her unbuttoned blouse tightly to her. I asked her if she was okay, and she gave me a strange look and pulled the blanket over us. We hugged again—awkwardly—then Carol lay down. It was then that I saw her blouse part and the swelling of a breast. I swept the blouse open to see her beautiful breasts, but before I could do anything, Carol spoke.

“Be gentle with me. I want to like being with a man.”

I obeyed, and spent the next hour caressing, teasing and lightly sucking Carol’s pinkish-brown (brownish-pink?) nipples and every millimeter of her B/C cup size breasts. My hand slipped back down between Carol’s legs at one point, and I felt her instinctively spread her legs to allow me to touch her better, but I had barely begun to touch the warm and damp crotch of her panties when her legs closed and she grabbed my hand.

“Not tonight, please. It’s tempting, but…just not tonight.

I satisfied myself with Carol’ sweet rear and breasts and a whole lot of hugging and kissing, me with my shirt off for the first time, feeling bare breasts against me. I could feel wetness at the bottom of Carol’ rear, which I took to be a sign of her arousal. I was tempted to explore the area more, but knew it was off-limits for now, so I didn’t press things. Three hours went by in a blitz and once again I raced home just in time to beat my mother. And once again, I masturbated in bed, though this time I had a uniquely feminine smell on my fingertips to add to the pleasure.

I set up my tent in the backyard the next day, just as I had for many summers. I slept in it that night, or tried to. All I could think of was Carol 100 feet away. Long after my mother’s light’s went out, I snuck over facarol’, a sheet draped around me. Carol’ light was on in her bedroom, and she was reading the bible. I whispered loudly to her through the screened part of her half-opened window. She jumped a little, then got up and came over to the window to ask me what I was doing there at that hour. I explained about the tent (which she had already seen) and chit-chatted for a minute. Carol said she had been trying to read the bible for a half-hour and couldn’t find anything to comfort her. We were silent for a long moment, then I asked her if I could come in.

“You can’t sleep here tonight. It’s too risky.”

I said that was okay, and that I just wanted to come in for a little bit. Carol hesitated, then lifted the screen part of the window.

“The back door light is on, so climb in through here.”

I did, but ripped my pajamas on the screen catch, which was funny and a little embarrassing. Once in, and the blind drawn behind me, we stood awkwardly. Neither of us knew what to say. I could see the swell of Carol breasts and nipples beneath her light nightgown, which stopped about halfway down her thigh. She looked wonderful, and I told her so. Carol hardly responded.

“What am I going to do with you?” she murmured. “What kind of world is this if a 32-year-old woman takes advantage of an 18-year-old.”

I said she wasn’t taking advantage of me and that she was the best thing that ever happened to me. Carol smiled and said I was one of the best things that happened to her. That broke the ice. We hugged, then kissed passionately, pushing our pelvises together. I was hard and erect, and there wasn’t much fabric between us. Carol looked me in the eye and said “Wow!” bashfully, which made me feel ten feet tall. A little embarrassed, I withdrew and sat on the bed, putting my arms around Carol. I put my head against her stomach and caressed her rear, first through the light fabric of her nightgown. As I suspected, she wasn’t wearing panties. I reached beneath the nightgown to hold her cool butt cheeks, making little animal noises of pleasure as I kneaded the soft flesh. Carol pushed closer to me and held my head to her body. I took that as a positive sign and allowed my hands to explore a little up and down the back of her legs, then up and over the curve of her rear.

I turned Carol around, getting a quizzical look in the process, then a sad smile as I lifted her nightgown.

“I’m afraid I’m not as shapely as I used to be” she whispered.

“You’re gorgeous” I said fiercely. I’ve dreamed about your beautiful…backside ever since I saw you.”

Her luscious curving, swelling, pale backside was before me, and I wasted no time rubbing my own cheeks against hers, smashing my face against the sweet softness. I could smell that wonderful, womanly perfume that came from within her and inhaled the scent deeply. This was about as close as man gets to heaven, I thought, and paused to absorb every detail into my memory. My hands pushed and pulled and caressed every inch of Carol’ sweet ass. My thoughts alternated between that very second and all the times I had seen Carol in a dress or shorts or slacks and wondered what kind of heaven it would be to have her in bed with me. Now I knew.

My hands wandered some more, this time down her legs and discreetly up the smooth flesh that was her inner thigh. Carol surprised me by widening her stance a little. She was letting me touch her. My hands roamed higher and I heard Carol moan as my fingers caressed the softness an inch below her sex. I was in a hurry to feel more, but I’d read a book that said men should take their time making love to a woman, so I took my time. Carol quivered at my touch and reached around to run her hands through my hair.

“Gently. Please be gentle with me.”

I was. I brushed the back of my fingertips delicately aginst the warm folds of my angel, feeling wetness in one super-soft spot and the twin ridges of her outer labia, soft and full. Carol trembled and half-whimpered, half moaned as my fingertips discovered each new area. I hated pastor Bob at the moment, stupidly I would later realize, but all I could think of at the time was giving this beautiful woman everything a man could, everything real and sexy that she had been denied. I pushed one finger gently into Carol’s wet vagina, and was rewarded with another moan. Carol, in fact, spread her legs even wider and reached behind her to hold on to my shoulders while my hands gently and lovingly explored her most intimate regions. I marveled at the heat and softness and wetness. I had only been to “Second Base” with a girl and had so much to learn. Should I use my thumb, my forefinger? Circular massage around the clitoris? Back and forth? How big was the clitoris? What’s the best way to make a woman climax?

In the end, I winged it. Whatever Carol liked, I repeated. I wiggled my finger in one spot, pushed deeply in another. I tried to avoid over-stimulating the clitoris, yet rubbed it again and again as the surest route to orgasm. It didn’t take long. Carol’s sweet whimpering and short, quickening breaths told me that an orgasm might be near. She staggered slightly and grabbed her knees, which had the effect of tilting her vagina right up to my face. I took in every hair, every ridge, every wet and shiny spot, the details of her now visible anus, star-like and puckered, a mystery and another “First”. My fingertip started to cramp, but I didn’t dare let up, as Carol was bucking and shaking. She cried out with a gasp as the orgasm hit her, jerking her body one way, then another. I kept flicking my fingertips gently across her clitoris and she cried out again, trembling as a second wave of pleasure shook her. She grabbed my hand to stop me from pleasuring her further and held it. I stopped, but inserted my thumb in her vagina and pushed it as far up the slippery folds as I could. I wanted to possess that beautiful pussy and hold it as long as I could.

Carol took some deep breaths, and made a few quiet sounds of animal pleasure as the sensations in her body subsided. When the involuntary quivers stopped, she turned to me and began crying, first quietly, then real sobs. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted her to be happy. Was she overcome with guilt? Had we gone way too far? Carol couldn’t even talk. The only words she could choke out were “Hold me. Just hold me.” between sobs. We fell onto the bed and minutes passed before Carol stopped crying. Another five minutes passed before she could speak in sentences.

“This is what I’ve been missing…..I’ve been cheated for ten years….I feel so angry….so stupid…so betrayed….and so happy. Thank you, thank-you….thank-you! ”

I said nothing and just held her. I’d just had the best experience of my life, I just had sex with a woman I worshipped almost, and she was thanking ME. Wow! Carol interrupted my thoughts.

“Stay with me tonight. I’ll set the alarm early, I’ll do anything for you, just stay and hold me tonight.”

I agreed to, of course, so Carol set the alarm, went to take a pee and returned. She smiled, faced me and removed her nightgown in the light by the side of the bed. My eyes widened at this new perspective on her beautiful body. Her breasts hung naturally and beautifully, her pubic hair a treat for the eyes (This was twenty years ago, when respectabl;e women weren’t near as quick to shave their pubic hair).

“I’m yours. Do you want the light on or off?”

I asked to keep the lights on, which I think she liked. Anyway Carol climbed under the sheets and on top of me. The combination of her position, her swaying breasts, her soft manipulations of my penis had me hard again. She mounted me, never taking her loving, smiling eyes off mine. This time, I was nowhere near a stud. I came in under two minutes. Copiously. Carol held me for a few minutes, then reached over to shut the light off, pulling off me reluctantly, then cuddling up close again.

“I have no idea what tomorrow will bring, or next month or next year” she whispered in my ear. “Right now, right or wrong, I love you.”

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