White Skirt, Black Secrets

The scent of lilies and old hymnals still clung to the air as I finished leading the Junior Church lesson, “David and Goliath.” My wife, Sarah, had been radiant in her white blouse, a daringly short denim skirt, and black pantyhose clinging to her legs, finished off with classic black Mary Janes. The kids, bless their innocent hearts, hadn’t seemed to notice the way my eyes kept drifting back to her, a subtle, insistent pull I couldn’t quite shake. It wasn’t conscious, not really, just a primal recognition of her beauty, her grace, the way the sunlight caught the curve of her neck as she adjusted her glasses.

As we began the cleanup, stacking chairs and wiping down the pews, she said, a playful glint in her eye, “You couldn’t keep your eyes off me, could you?” My heart skipped a beat. I stammered, “No, I wasn’t,” but the lie felt clumsy, pathetic even. Her smile widened, a slow, knowing curve of her lips. “Oh yes, you were. Besides, you had a hard on!”

The words hung in the air, charged with unspoken desire. I choked back a laugh, a nervous tremor running through me. “You’re kidding, right?” She didn’t miss a beat. Reaching out with her left hand, she gently rubbed against my crotch, the contact sending a jolt of heat through my body. “No, you had a hard on. A magnificent one, might I add.” My breath caught in my throat. It was undeniable, a potent, throbbing truth. “Well, I do now that’s for sure!” A grin spread across my face, a shameful, exhilarating pleasure. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to take care of that!”

Without another word, she dropped to her knees before me, her movements deliberate and graceful. Her fingers worked deftly at my belt, the leather snapping open with a satisfying click. The button of my shirt followed suit, then the zipper on my trousers, and finally, the underwear, tumbling onto the floor in a heap. I was fully exposed, my skin tingling with anticipation, the heat intensifying with each passing second.

“Right here, right now?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Why not?” she replied, her voice husky with desire. She began to caress my throbbing member, her touch firm and confident. “Ooh, baby! You have a nice dick!” Her words, laced with sensual appreciation, sent shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes, lost in the exquisite torture of wanting, needing, craving her touch.

As she continued her exploration, I felt a growing urgency, a desperate need to release the tension building within me. The heat intensified, becoming almost unbearable. “I don’t know how much I can take!” I exclaimed, my voice strained. “Oh big boy can’t control himself,” she teased, her fingers digging deeper into my flesh. She unbuttoned my pants, pulling them down with a swift, decisive movement, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

I braced myself, a mixture of terror and excitement swirling within me. "Look at the beautiful hard cock!" she whispered, her eyes locked on mine. A wave of heat washed over me as I felt the blood rush to my member, causing it to swell and harden further. "What if someone comes in the room?" I asked, a flicker of panic in my voice. "I locked the door," she assured me, her grip tightening slightly.

Now fully immersed in her ministrations, I felt myself surrendering to the pleasure, the world fading away as she continued to tease and torment me. "Oh, that feels so good," I moaned, unable to resist her touch. "What if I cum, " I asked, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "I'm sure you'll let me know when your close," she replied, her voice a low, seductive murmur. She stroked me for a good two to three minutes, each caress igniting a fresh wave of desire, a burning need for her.

Suddenly, she stopped, leaning forward and resting her weight on my lap. "I think you’re ready for a blowjob," she said, her voice laced with anticipation. "Think? I’ve been ready for a while!" My breath hitched in my throat. This was exactly what I craved, what I desperately needed. Her tongue, warm and moist, licked the tip of my shaft, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I shivered, adjusting my legs, preparing myself for the inevitable. After licking the head of my cock a bit; she wraps her lips around my whole member! She starts slow but soon she gets my cock further and further into her mouth!

The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of heat, pleasure, and raw desire. I increased the speed, feeling her lips working rhythmically against my skin, her breath hot against my member. Two or three minutes passed in a blur of sensation, her movements becoming more frantic, more insistent. Feeling her slobber running down my cock excited me all the more.

“Oh God! I think I’m going to cum!” I gasped, my voice choked with pleasure. "Go ahead, I’m ready for your load," she said, her voice soft and encouraging. “Oh, I’m there I’m there!” I cried out as the pressure built within me, the release imminent. I let go, shooting my cum deep inside her throat. My entire body trembled, wracked by the sheer force of the release, and she squeezed me tightly behind my legs, holding me close as I writhed in ecstasy. “Come on big boy, give me every drop!” she urged, her voice a breathless whisper. I continued to unleash my load for a good thirty seconds, pouring out every ounce of pleasure, every last drop of desire.

As the final tremors subsided, I withdrew my member, feeling drained but utterly satisfied. She licked the tip of my cock, making sure she got every last bit of pleasure, savoring the moment with a look of pure bliss on her face. I started to pull up my pants and underwear, a sense of vulnerability washing over me as I exposed myself once more. "Look," she said, her voice a playful whisper, and I then saw my cum in her mouth. She swallowed it down, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips.

“How was that?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Wow! I never thought we’d do something like this at church?" I replied, shaking my head in disbelief. "Oh, I’ve wanted to do that for a while!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with longing. With both giggles as with both leave the church and head for our car. The scent of lilies and old hymnals seemed to fade away, replaced by the lingering warmth of our shared pleasure, a secret indulgence that had transformed our ordinary afternoon into an unforgettable experience. The drive home was filled with comfortable silence, the memory of our shared intimacy a silent testament to the potent connection we shared.

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