Just after my 29th birthday I left the city behind for a more rural aspect. The city and I never got along. I grew up in the vast open spaces of Lancashire, Yorkshire and Scotland. Feeling hemmed in and surrounded by way too many people, not to mention the chronic pollution, this move produced a feeling that it was somehow going back to my roots and the natural order of how it all should be. The new house was over an hours drive from the last one in Leeds, West Yorkshire. I soon found that almost all friends had decided it was too much of a chore to visit. Those that did visit the new place made it plain they wouldn’t be making the journey again. Two of the latter were girlfriends who were quite happy to have fun without any huge commitment but not when it involved driving that distance. I suppose you could say that the time, fuel and effort involved in such a sojourn are most definitely a commitment of sorts. A great many of those friendships had been formed through a shared interest you might say of religion. Humans can be quite a fickle animal at times.
Despite having spent all my childhood in the countryside I was still surrounded by my family but now the surprising and new sensation of loneliness began to creep in. In a telephone conversation with my mother who now lives in Dorset on the south coast, I jokingly told her it was so quiet here that I had cabin fever.
On a visit to the nearest market town I was approached by a couple of women who were part of a contingent from a nearby place of worship on some kind of recruitment drive. One of then wasn’t anything to write home about looks wise and certainly no great shakes in the personality stakes either. Her companion however was very pleasant to look at and hold a conversation with. She was a petite little French lady with a very nicely proportioned figure who was sadly married with children. Her tits although small were still perfect for her stature. As someone who appreciates beauty it’s important to make these observations I feel, even though one keeps them to ones self. Beverages had been laid on so we three chatted a while over a pretty lousy cup of tea.
Unexpectedly I began attending church once again finding a little excitement in meeting new people and making new friends. It was unexpected in so much as it was inconceivable that I would do that, after becoming so disillusioned with religion and vowing to myself never to bother with it again. Of course once inducted it doesn’t take very long before you are being invited out to dinner parties, barbeques, days out and the like.
It was on one such occasion that I met a woman named Erika who was in her early forties. It was a dinner party at a farmers house and most of the people there I hadn’t met before. That being the case it seemed prudent to be more observant than one might normally and take care to listen well.
We were all gathered in the living room whilst our host’s wife spent most of her time attending to the food in the kitchen. The conversation was being carried out like an irritating game of pass the parcel, emceed by the man of the house himself. Each of us were asked a number of questions in turn and given the opportunity to tell everyone else a little about ourselves, before the package was passed to the next poor soul who was expected to do a little more unwrapping. Whilst it may seem to some that conversation with strangers is somewhat analogous to the children’s party game, for almost all present it simply betrayed our host’s social ineptitude. He was certainly carrying out his enquiries a little too enthusiastically. I tried to give away as little as possible but the person who stood out as the most reluctant was Erika. Although she did this in a shy wallflower kind of way she still managed to look like she wouldn’t be pressed any further.
Throughout these gentle interrogations, glancing at the faces around the room I was reminded of one of the reasons I had stopped attending back in Leeds. Most of them displayed that sickly sweet contentment with life that came with finding Jesus. Once my cross examination began I noticed a striking difference. Erika was staring directly at me with an expression on her face, that can only be described as one of pure unadulterated lust. It was so obvious that I did a double take and immediately looked away, somehow managing to maintain my composure and not break a stride in any reply. The ordeal soon ended. I glanced in her direction and once again saw her still transfixed, so much in the zone that she didn’t even notice that I had stared back at her for a second or two. This was just incredible and not a little bit flattering. You just couldn’t have a bigger compliment than a good looking woman staring at you in such a manner. It was just so deliciously base that my ego was being boosted no end.
With the game of pass the parcel over conversations became more divided. Not one person spoke to the wallflower or I and she was still staring at me from across the room with the same intensity. It had to have been three minutes now. Just then the lady of the house entered the room and our host asked us to decamp to the dining room. Shy lady and myself were the only ones left and since she was still in the zone, I pretended to be in one of my own and with a start suggested that we follow the others.
As the evening passed I couldn’t help but take more notice of my admirer. Whilst most of the other women in attendance wore skirts in true church going fashion, Erika opted for a pair of rather nice black trousers that were tight enough to show off her fantastic legs and arse. I stole glances at them as often as possible throughout the evening, hopefully without anyone noticing.
In the two or three weeks that followed I kept up the attendance in order to casually observe everyone to try and get the measure of a few at least. I often sat at the back in the far corner since it could be a great place to watch without being watched. In doing so it became apparent that Erika was a fairly regular attendee and invariably sat at or very near to the back row adjacent the double doors that led out of the main hall. Watching her body language and interaction with others she did seem quite shy and very reserved. A keen eye could see though, that this was occasionally punctuated with short bouts of confidence. I wasn’t sure what this meant at the time but as it turned out, she certainly knew her own mind and didn’t like to settle. She just needed to work on her assertiveness a little and not over compensate on occasion. My assessment of her figure at the dinner party was spot on as far as could be ascertained. It wasn’t easy to gauge at times with the frumpy dresses that she wore to meetings. Nevertheless a great arse, slender legs, tits that looked about a handful and a face that certainly wasn’t difficult to look at. You can’t ask for much more than that.
Arriving at church one particular Sunday morning yours truly managed to secure a seat at the very back on the far end of the row. This being on the opposite side of the building to where our little wallflower usually sat.
Today she was doing a great job of appearing interested in a very dull sermon. I had given up some time ago and had been entertaining myself with fantasies and scenarios involving a number of the well turned out ladies present. It wasn’t long before I was sporting a fairly painful hard on and not wanting to be discovered in that state when standing for some psalm singing for example, I decided that a discrete withdrawal would be wise until things had settled down. So hand in pocket I got up and left through the double doors at the back of the hall.
Once through the doors I thought a visit to the loo for a piss might deflate the situation. It wasn’t easy but peeing didn’t help and just when I was seriously considering emptying a load into the toilet pan, I heard footsteps approaching along the wooden floor. Judging by the stride and weight they sounded light enough to be female. After zipping back up I left the toilet and went for a little wonder looking in several other rooms. One of them was used as storage and a bit of a library. Perusing the contents of the bookshelves I heard the toilet flush and a few seconds later looking out I observed Erika exiting. Leaving the room I called “hi.”
“Hi, what were you doing in that room?” she asked
“Looking at the books”
She nodded slightly not saying anything.
I began vividly recalling the dinner party several weeks ago and Erika’s passionate expression. God this was doing nothing to suppress the hard on. As the images of that night replayed in mind with my hand in my pocket I could feel my penis increase it’s girth and with it become more painful. I reasoned that I had an opportunity here to find out just how serious the feelings behind her lustful gaze were. So emboldened and justified you might say I decided to make a move.
“Can I show you something?” I ask.
She looked at me incredulous.
Oh Lord I thought, this is where the whole thing could go drastically wrong. At best she may simply laugh at me and walk away. At worst she may report me for lewd conduct or worse.
Continuing as if it was the most normal thing to say. “In the library”
“Ok”
We both stood and stared the the shelves for a moment and then she turned and asked, “well what is it?”
“Well actually it was this.” I slowly pulled my hand from my trouser pocket and then moved it along then length of the raging hard on contained within. She raised her head and looked intently, eyes slightly widened. After about ten seconds she got down on her knees and began to trace the outline of my cock and squeeze it. Pretty soon she was rubbing her face on it and was in that zone again. After several minutes of this she suddenly stopped, looked up at me and asked “can I see it?”
“Of course” I unbuttoned the trousers and pulled them down, whereupon shy lady commenced to continuing her ministrations. After a short time she asked if it would be ok if she sucked it. Oh my god can this girl get any better I mused. “I’d love it if you did” I replied. It was one of those world shattering blowjobs whereby the giver is in as much ecstasy if not more than the receiver.
Obviously this being one of those occasions where two people are caught up in the moment and not being too sure just how far this was going to go, all manner of things were running through the fertile ground of my mind. A very freshly toiled one since it had only just finished turning over some rather imaginative situations while seated in the main hall. Normally I’m the sort of guy that likes to take his time and try lots of different things in the same encounter. Right now I was thinking about some of them. That it would be so nice to stroke her wonderfully soft skin, her arms, her breasts and her arse. To hopefully give her that same pleasure that some of my previous girlfriends had claimed, stating that I had teased them so much with touching stroking and massaging, that they had achieved several orgasms before ever pulling my trousers down. Wondering what it would be like to suck and nibble on Erika’s nipples or to give her arse hole the licking of its life. Then seeing if she couldn’t achieve an orgasm whilst I licked and sucked her clit for the first time.
Nevertheless this was a different kind of occasion, so the fantastic blowjob continued for a good few minutes longer and ever the pragmatist, I was getting a little concerned we might be missed or someone was at the very least going to need to visit the little boy or girls room. Gently putting my hands around her face and raising Erika to her feet I tried to kiss her. She instantly pulled back exclaiming, “I don’t want that, I need cock” pointing at the raging boner.
“I don’t have any condoms”
“We don’t need those” she said. That was all the invitation I needed. I turned her to face the bookshelves, pulled up her skirt and pulled down her knickers. Placing a hand between her legs I stroked and put my finger into her very wet pussy. Placing my cock there I entered what is the tightest pussy I have ever experienced. We fucked like rabbits while completely losing track of time. When Erika orgasmed her vagina pulsated in the most incredible vice like grip that prevented me from moving. Her powerful grip rapidly moved along my rigid shaft from the tip to the base and back again several times. I was in heaven and whilst that didn’t make me cum right at that very moment I was certain that if we practiced enough we could certainly get the timing right. After she relaxed I once again regained control over the motion and sportively yet breathlessly orgasmed soon after. Whilst not being the most prodigious producer of sperm on the planet I produce enough for people to comment and having not emptied the old testicles for quite some time, needless to say there was quite a lot. After pulling out I suggested we get back to the main hall. She agreed and after buttoning and zipping up I made my way back via a short visit to the w/c to clean up.
Some time later Erika made her way back to her seat. When it was time for another hymn I glanced at the other side of the church noticing my wallflower wasn’t there. Several minutes after the song I was certain Erika had gone home. It was an hour later when the service finally ended and anyone taking a look at her seat would notice the wet patch that remained.
What followed was two years of the hottest sex I’ve ever had, lots of it in church. They must have been short on deacons since they gave me a key and had me doing odd jobs and running errands. Needless to say the place was well and truly desecrated.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/vfxfc2/its_always_the_quiet_ones_mf