8 comments/ 27911 views/ 4 favorites Church Lady By: ConnieChatterly When I met Kivvy, I was in my late twenties and working as a youth pastor at a large evangelical church. Not the youth pastor, just an assistant youth pastor, a position I'd felt stuck in for five years. I did my best for the kids, but they didn't find me very interesting. I'm tall and plain-looking. I have a slow, serious way of talking. I can't tell jokes. I don't pick up on popular culture. To be honest, I'm not good with people in general. I'm better with facts and figures. My relationships with women hadn't been any more impressive. The ones I met were all church ladies. Three types showed any interest in me: subprime young husband-hunters, single moms scouting for a father substitute, and divorced older women looking for a young man to mother. I dated some of each, but they didn't turn me on. I didn't turn them on, either. My sexual adventures were few, restrained, and short. Kivvy landed on me as a counseling job. She had barely turned 18. Her parents were staunch church members, but I couldn't recall ever meeting their daughter. She had never attended any of our youth functions or my Bible classes. I was given to understand that she had been in increasingly serious rebellion for over two years. Truancy, hanging out on the streets, sexually active, using drugs. Her parents thought she might be a lesbian. They had used all their leverage, including threats of no college and non-support, to get her to agree to sit down with somebody for a review of where her life was going. They would have preferred a more senior pastor, but I was the only one with time available then. I'd done this kind of counseling before but never with great success, so I didn't promise much. I said I'd meet with her once to try to open a dialogue. Anything beyond that would have to be at her request. The parents asked if they should accompany her. No, I said. I want her to feel free to open up. I didn't think any more about it until Kivvy showed up at my office. She turned out to be tall, skinny and awkward, with an enormous cascade of crinkly red hair. There seemed to be as much hair as girl. Her face was long and plain, like mine. She had a wide mobile mouth, and blue eyes that looked everywhere but at me. My very first thought, I'm afraid, took me by surprise: I'd like to fuck her hard. I'd had sexual yearnings for specific women before, but never so immediate, and never in those crude terms. I promptly banished the idea. I had a job to do. Kivvy wasn't about to help me do it. She was monosyllabic and evasive even through a simple conversation starter. Getting basic family background was like pulling teeth. She apparently thought she was going to get out of there faster by frustrating me. After a few minutes, completely on impulse, I decided that I wouldn't play her game. "Who's the last person you had sex with, Kivvy?" For the first time she looked straight at me, her blue eyes open wide and her mouth working without anything coming out. Finally she gave a kind of choking laugh and said, "What business is that of yours?" Before that day, I would have answered, "I want to help you" or some such platitude. But, with her, I shrugged and said, "I just find myself . . . curious about you." She looked at me for a while longer. I looked right back, wondering what the hell I thought I was doing. Finally she took the bait. "OK. The last person I fucked was a black boy who calls himself T.H.E. If he has another name, I don't know it. Who's the last person you fucked?" I was stupid not to have foreseen the question, but instinct told me to just blurt out the truth. "I masturbate," I said, as coolly as I could. "Unfortunately, it's all I have." Somewhere inside, there was another me, watching this scene with horror and thinking, This can't be happening! A slow smile spread over Kivvy's face. There was a little triumph in it, but also a little understanding. "Well," she said. "You're the last person I would expect to use that word." I thought for a moment. "OK, our cards are on the table. Are you willing to talk about sex, then?" "Wouldn't you rather do it?" she shot back. "Well . . . not now, not here." "But you want to?" "Everybody wants to. But there has to be an element of judgment. And commitment." "In other words, right now you'd like me to tell you how I do it, so you can go home and masturbate thinking about me." "Well," I said slowly, "whether that's true or not, Kivvy, how would you like me to think about you?" She laughed, this time with pleasure. "Ooooo-kay, pastor. You don't have to be such a lawyer with me. Actually, there's a game like that I've played with some of my friends. Everybody has to tell a fantasy they have about somebody else in the circle, until somebody breaks down and starts touching herself. Or himself. Once they start, they have to finish. It can be fun. But first, you have to tell me: are you cut or uncut?" This pushed it into a different zone. "I'm . . . uncircumcised," I said uncomfortably. "Cool. I like a foreskin. More to play with. More taste, too." My inner minister suddenly panicked. The situation was slipping out of control. I needed to end it before this young lady cost me my job. "Kivvy," I said. "Let's get this back on track—" She stared at me. "It is on track, pastor. You're the one who brought up fucking. I'm just telling you how I like to fuck a boy." Quickly I asked, "And how about girls?" She laughed again. "Oh, my parents! Their last great hope—maybe their daughter is only fucking girls! Well, I've done a few girls, but I'm hetero, no doubt about it. Nothing I like as much as a dick—in any hole." "There are big risks in that, Kivvy." Her look was withering. "Of course there are. There are big risks in asking me how I fuck, too, but you're taking them. Now, which of my holes do you want to use in your little fantasy?" She and looked straight at me, the corners of her mouth turned up a little mockingly. I was having trouble breathing. Part of it was panic, but part of it . . . well, my cock was stiff. Kivvy was everything the church ladies weren't. She wasn't soft and nice, she was raw and real. Her angularity and awkwardness and plainness and her almost translucent pale skin made me crazy to see what she looked like wearing nothing but that massive hair. She hadn't even taken her coat off, but I still could clearly visualize her nubbin breasts with their dark red pointy nipples and her curly auburn crotch. I may have imagined it, but I actually thought I caught a whiff of something tangy. All I could think of to say was, "Ah . . . well . . . whatever you would like to talk about . . ." Kivvy laughed, this time loudly. "Good call, pastor. I know more about this stuff than you do. Well, my guess is you haven't had many, if any, blowjobs, cuz the women you'd know—like my mother—don't like to give them. So maybe you could use some research there. After your blowjob, if you're up to it, you could fuck my main hole. In fantasy only, of course! Anal . . . you might like it, might not, but you've got enough on your plate already. So . . . let's get started!" She leaned toward me, her hands on her knees, her big mouth grinning, her eyes snapping blue. I was a loss for words. Partly because I was distracted by a frantic desire to unzip my pants and stroke my rigid cock. "By the way," she said, "there's no reason you shouldn't unzip your pants and stroke your cock. The door's closed. I won't see anything—your desk's in the way. You're just listening to me talk about whatever's on my mixed-up little adolescent mind. We can both say, completely honestly, that we never touched, never even got out of our chairs. I didn't even take my coat off." I know this sounds terrible coming from a minister, but the situation now had an almost heaven-sent feeling. Kivvy was actually acting excited about it, and I had never in my whole life known what it felt like to have a woman act excited in my presence, that is, in my presence as a man. Without letting myself think, I eased my zipper down. I had to shift around to let my cock out and get a grip on it. I tried to give her a bold stare, like, I'm on. I was nervous as hell, but there was also a feeling that I could put into words, only much later, as: Wow, something's finally happening! "All ready?" she asked. "OK. Now, we start with me kneeling in front of you. One thing I always insist on is that I get to unzip the guy, unbuckle his belt, unbutton his pants. There is such a feeling of power in that. It's like, you can't wait for what's coming, but I get to make you wait while I get myself into the right place, mentally. You'll be more than ready by the time I let you loose. And you'll appreciate it more when I let you finally take over." She paused. "Now, don't go too fast, pastor. This story is going to take a while. I don't want you to finish up before I really get into it. "And in case you're wondering—yes, doing this makes me wet. Really wet. I hope you like the thought. After all, it's my pussy you're going to fantasy-fuck. Don't worry about me. I know how to take care of myself. You just take care of yourself." Her hand slid under her coat, at chest level. "You think you masturbate? I doubt you can keep up with me. "Now, where were we? Yeah, I was getting you ready. Well, I take my time, rubbing my hands up and down your pants, your shirt, gripping your butt, stroking between your legs. Of course I touch you now and then where you really want it, but not a lot yet. I want to draw it out. You can put your hands on my head—I know you can't take your eyes off my hair—but don't try to take over at this point. Let me lead. It's a turnoff if you get over-eager right now." I swallowed. My wrist was moving back and forth. It felt good. But even better, my eyes were locked with hers. She was challenging me to hold her gaze while we both touched ourselves. For the first time, I was actually enjoying looking into a woman's eyes. And what eyes! Blue, ironical, and at the same time, excited, like a kid showing off something new. "OK. Now I pull your shirt out and reach up and stroke and tickle your belly. I can feel the little hairs there, the ones that get much thicker lower down. Those hairs excite me. I unbutton your shirt so I can press my lips onto your belly, feel those hairs on my lips. . . Yeah, breathe deeply. I'm feeling it, too." There was a moment of silence. "Use your other hand to brush your nipples," she said. "Even through your shirt you should feel something nice." I did so, cautiously. It felt funny emotionally—a kind aching, yearning feeling—but basically good. New. You may not believe it, but I had never discovered my nipples before. No woman had ever done anything to them. I thought only women's nipples could be sexually stimulated. "I'm making noises now, under your shirt, kissing and licking your belly. I'm shoving all my fingers down under your waistband in back. I can smell a little of the soap you showered with this morning. What I'm really enjoying is the taste of your skin. Yeah, I can taste you here, I mean the oils on your skin, but it's just a little of what I'm going to be tasting later." She paused and licked her lips, looking at a spot on the front of my desk. She seemed distracted. It looked like her fingertip was making slow circles under the coat. "A . . . slow . . . zipper-pull . . . is one of my favorite moments. I love the sound of a guy's zipper coming down. I love knowing we're hearing it together. Of course I can feel your bulge. It's always bigger than I think possible—how can you have all that under there, where there was, like, nothing a few minutes ago?? I love feeling the way it strains at your pants. I love thinking how badly you want it out, and how I'm the one who's going to let it out! "Pinch your nipple, pastor. I'd like to see you do that. Pinch it kind of hard, like I'm gonna pinch mine. You won't hurt it. Mine are a lot bigger and have a lot more nerves than yours do, and I love the thought of you pinching and pulling them. Listen, did you know you can train your nipples to be super-sensitive? That's what piercing and rings are all about. But you can just do it just by rubbing and pinching yourself a lot, too. That's how I got mine this way. God, they are so, so sensitive!" She exhaled and swallowed hard. "OK, now, your zipper is open, your shirt is hanging out, your hairy tummy is all wet. I use both hands to work your belt buckle open. And I unbutton your pants. I pull them slightly open, so I can see the top of your shorts." She breathed in slowly and deeply through her nostrils several times. The front of her coat continued to pulse slightly. She closed her eyes and seemed lost in the sensation. We could hear the clock tick. My left hand was inside my suit jacket playing with my right nipple. My fingers gently glided up and down my cock, keeping it hard but not hurrying. I understood the game now, and was entirely willing to let her call the plays. She swallowed, opened her eyes, and resumed. "Now, I want to just rest my head for a moment against your body. I want to hold onto you and feel secure. Gently pat my hair. Murmur something kind of cooing, like 'I'm going to take good care of you, baby.' Everything up to now has been tease, great fun for me, but it's about to turn more serious. This may be hard for you to understand. When I release you, from there on you're going to start to take over. It's what has to happen, it's what I want, but I still feel a little scared of it. Of you. After all, this is going to end, like, with you pounding me with all your strength. You're going to be up inside me with that thing! I know I'll love it, but now, while your strength is still held back, I have a little trouble believing that I'm going to let you do that. This is, like, the point of no return." I had quickened my stroking. I wanted to say something appropriate to the moment, but I couldn't find my voice. Anyway, my mouth was hanging open. Her eyes had glazed and she seemed to be twisting her nipples, first one, then the other. There was again a clock-ticking silence while we played with ourselves. Then slowly took her hand out of her coat, smiled, shook her head, looked down, and put both hands on her lap. "But, c'mon, I told you I'd give you a guided tour to fucking me, and I've got to keep my head a little bit clear for that. So . . . now that I've given myself a moment to regroup, I look up to let you know it's go, and then I suddenly yank your pants down. I like to do it fast and hard, to show I'm ready. Takes too long to get you out of them. Just leave them around your ankles. Just don't forget and trip, OK? "I see you're a boxers guy. Can't see as much of your nice trim male outline or your muscle-y thighs as I could if you wore briefs, but boxers have their own charms. One is, they're better to slide over your thing. So I do that for you, looking up to see if you like it. I take hold of you through the cloth. It's so cool to finally feel what you're like! I squeeze you firmly between my fingertips, cuz I'm always amazed at your hardness. I slide my fingers around and feel where your foreskin slides back and the thick little bulge it makes around the middle. I swear, this is where I start salivating. And, suddenly, I feel really, really, really eager. "One of the nice things about boxers is the way you can poke through, exposing yourself to me while you're still, kind of, clothed. It makes it feel like I'm giving you a quickie in a men's room. Yeah, I've done that. So I pull open the little door, and wiggle it around a bit to find the end, and—wow, there it is, popping out into my face! I have to dodge to keep it from poking my eye! Oh, you're beautiful! You're long, and absolutely rigid and straight. Your head is already free of its cover. Oh, God, it looks so big and brutal! I can't wait to feel my lips sliding around it! Or have it ramming into my sensitive cervix! Oh, my God, you're already dripping! Now I'm so hungry for you!" I swallowed hard. I was so close I was suddenly afraid of losing it. I had to get my mind off this for a moment. "Kivvy," I muttered. "Slow up." "Oh? Too much? Yeah, I need breather, too. . . . Say, can I smoke in here?" "Sorry," I said. "We're smoke free." "OK. I'll just take a nicotine tablet." She reached quickly into her coat pocket, popped a little white pill in her mouth, and made a gulping swallow. She smiled, a little guiltily. She looked abstracted for a while, staring at the floor. It went on long enough I began to wonder what I should do. I couldn't very well continue to sit there stock still with my dick in my hand. I got so self-conscious my erection was starting to shrink. "OK," she suddenly grinned. "Better now? So, it's time for me to give you what you've been dying for me to do. I'm opening my mouth." She opened it wide to show me, her eyes closed, her lips pulled in slightly, covering her teeth. Her bright red tongue wiggled a little. Then she opened her eyes and smiled again, right at me. "I want you to put it in--gently, please. Just a little way, so I can, y'know, taste some precum and suck a little on that big, smooth, purple head." I was fully hard again. "Oh, golly, I love the taste of your cock! The head alone feels like a full mouth! How'm I gonna to take the rest of you? Your precum has a slight acidic taste. I'm told that's from your piss—hey, don't worry about it! A little piss is sexy! "Now I'm going to try to fit more in my mouth. God, my cheeks bulge and I wonder, how, how, am I going to do this?? My lips are so sensitive, I can feel every new detail they slide over, every fold, every vein. I'm also starting to pick up that neat foreskin taste, a little earthy, a little sweaty. I'm using my tongue like a mother cat, slowly massaging you all around your head, especially right under it, where it drives you crazy!" She paused, opened her mouth, closed her eyes, and slowly waggled her tongue for me again. Her hand crept inside her coat, now at lap level. She was rocked her hips a little, twisting from side to side, sliding her legs together. Her look was distant. When she resumed she sounded a little breathless. "After a while, I pull my head back to breathe, and also to take a good look. Cuz one of the things I like is seeing you all shiny with my spit. A girl is proud of her work. I look up to make sure you're noticing it, too. I want you to watch me while I lick your penis, slowly and carefully, with the pointy tip of my tongue, carefully spreading my wetness around. Then I, uh, bend forward and slide an even bigger piece of you in. I wrap my lips firmly and suck. My tongue is reaching halfway down on your underside, curling up and moving your tasty foreskin around with the tip, loving the way I can make it slip and slide. I drool like a fool when I'm giving head--my saliva collects in all your creases and pockets--another reason I like an uncut cock! There's so much spit hat some starts leaking out of my mouth. When I pull away for a breath of air, there's this string of slobber from your cock to my lower lip. That's how tasty you are, pastor! "Hey, one of the things I like best is when the guy makes noises. Could you do some groaning or deep breathing or something?" "Uh," I said, stupidly. "Uh. Uh." "Yeah, well, it's a fantasy . . . You'd do better in real life. OK, now I'm gripping your base with my fingers and working my mouth up and down, fast. When I pull back, I give your shaft a sliding, twisting pull with my hand. Everything's slippery wet now. Your wet foreskin makes a neat sleeve to work you with. And my tongue never stops. The aim here is for you to, like, ejaculate in my mouth, you know! "OK, and while I'm doing this, I look up at you a lot. Partly because I like the view--you towering over me, your eyes half-closed, your mouth making half-finished words like "oh, God" and "fuck, fuck." I like seeing you're really into it. I didn't have you take your shirt off, so I can't see your bare chest. Too bad, that's a nice part. Another reason I look up, though, is, I want you to know I'm here for you. I want you to see my big innocent blue eyes looking up at yours, and I want you to think: She actually likes doing this to me!" Church Lady She paused, squirmed around, made a face, and seemed to be thinking. "OK, I can do without your bare chest, but I haven't seen your balls. So I interrupt what I'm doing and tell you, 'I need to touch your balls.' You don't have any objection. I slide your boxers down, and again. . . hell, I just realized, I need to get your ankles free. So step out of your pants, and then your boxers. Now, below your waist, you've got only socks on. A man looks ridiculous like that. I want you to feel ridiculous, standing there in your shirt and socks, with your pecker sticking out a mile—and I want you to decide that it doesn't matter—no matter what, this can't possibly stop until you come in my mouth! Look at me, kneeling here hanging off your sex organ! I want you to feel just as needy for this as I am! Sex is like that—no dignity allowed! "I look up at you again. I always want eye contact before going to a new level. It's partly to be sure you're comfortable. But it's also like I'm asking for your permission to service you in a new way. Admit it, that turns you on. OK, look right at me now, and tell me with your eyes that you're giving me permission to lick your balls." I swallowed, stared, fascinated, into her eyes, and faintly nodded. Her gaze dropped for a second as she fumbled a little frantically between her legs. Then she looked up at me, seeming almost disconcerted. For a second I thought she was losing her nerve, but then she seemed to settle in to a soft, steady rhythm, rocking a little back and forth. Again there was a little wait while we both just stroked and breathed. "Your balls amaze me just like your cock. They're so swollen. I cup them with my hands and stroke them softly, feeling their tightness and heaviness. I slide my finger all the way up in back, tickling you right under your asshole with my fingernail. Gently, of course. Then I bring it slowly back, and look up for permission again. Then, I slowly bend my head forward, and very slowly, deliberately, I start licking your big scrotum. I'm not just saying it's big. I'm, like, God, how could he have all this stuff!—just like you think my hair is so unreal. Anyway, I love you watching me humbly wash your thick, wrinkled ball skin and its scraggly tough little hairs. I also tongue the base of your cock, where it comes up out of the scrotum. While I do this, my cheeks keep brushing your cock. I act like there's all the time in the world. I love thinking, 'God, I'm actually kneeling here licking this man's balls! And I can do it all night if I want!' "The next thing I do is, I ask you to put your foot up on something—like the toilet, if we're in the men's room—and spread your legs a little so I can scrunch down lower, get my face between your legs, and softly lick the bottom and back of your scrotum. It always surprises guys that I want to service them that way. But I haven't had one complain yet." She paused to think again. "You'll probably be shocked by this, but when I lick you there, I catch a very faint whiff of your sweaty backside smell. It doesn't mean you're not clean. Assholes just have their own smell. Mine, too, I'm told. I've got very a very sensitive nose and I get turned on by all your body's tastes and odors, including that one. Well, up to a point. But, no, I'm not going to lick your anus the first time out." She smirked. "I'do it if I knew you better, though." She was rubbing herself faster now. When she resumed her concentration seemed to wander a bit. "OK, I've licked your balls all over . . . and I'm back to your cock. I'm thinking we need to wrap up this stage so I can get on my back, grab my ankles, and expose everything so you can start ripping me open. God, your cock is going to feel so good inside!" She practically cried those last words as she rubbed hard, closing her eyes. She had to swallow a couple times, and her voice seemed shaky as she continued. "But first, before you leave my mouth, here's a little treat. No, sorry, I'm not a deep-throater. What I'll do is, I'll wrap my fingers around your base, hold you in my mouth, and then I want you use your hips, kinda gently. Yeah, face-fuck me. Don't worry, I want it, just don't be too rough. Put your hands on my head. Tangle your fingers in my hair, it's there for you to enjoy. But use me like your lady-friend, don't force me. Encourage me, tell me what you like." "Oh, God," I gasped, "I need to come in your mouth." "Really? Well, it's OK. I'm real close, too! Go on, do it to me. Kivvy's kneeling here for you. Fill her mouth up with it." "You are so wet, so soft. The best I've ever fucked!" "Oh, I'd glad, I'm glad! God, I'll bet you come like a bull. I'm waiting to feel it splash in my throat. I'm going to love your salty male taste. I promise to swallow every . . . sticky . . . bit. When . . . you're finished . . . I'll . . . clean . . . your cock . . ." By now, she was biting the words out with little gasps, her eyes shut tight. "If any . . . falls on the floor . . . oh, shit, oh shit, I'll even lick that up! Oh! Oh!" "Oh, God! Oh, God!" I cried. "I'm reaching between your legs now," she gasped. "I, ah . . . that sensitive spot up behind your balls, right under your asshole, that I . . . touched before . . . now I'm going to press it . . . yeah, that's it, I'm going to wiggle my finger on it, hard, like that, yeah, like that, like that . . . I'm . . . tightening . . . my lips. . . I want . . . you to have . . . the sweetest . . . softest . . . wettest . . . suck . . .now . . . watch my face while . . . you . . . AGHHHHHHH . . .!" She doubled over violently, going "ahh-ahh-ahh" in long, deep, soft sighs. I'm glad she couldn't see my face. It must have been frightful. The sound I made was like a death-rattle. Of course I had come before, but never with this kind of buildup. I felt like I had turned into a volcano. Fortunately my desk was full-fronted. It kept my cum from shooting out onto her shoes. As it was, it got all over the place. I remember wiping it up with Kleenex later, off the desk, the floor, my pants, even my socks. Even after I was empty, I kept spasming and twitching with pleasure. Finally, panting, I leaned weakly on my left forearm. My right hand had to stay under the desk. Kivvy remained doubled over. She was quiet now. I couldn't see her face. I was having trouble finding my voice. Finally, I croaked, "Kivvy? Are you OK?" She raised up and fell back in her chair. Never having been with a post-orgasmic woman before, I was shocked at her transformation. She looked both younger and older. There were new deep lines in her face, but her blue eyes were misty pools of tranquility. Her mouth hung slightly open. She looked at me in an affectionate but unfocused way, as if I were a vaguely pleasant but unimportant object. "Oh, wow," she breathed. "I sure didn't think counseling would turn out to be this much fun!" Now I felt sudden consternation. What had I done? I could be fired for this! I didn't know whether to apologize or what. I groped for words that would somehow let me feel I was back in control. But Kivvy, her strength returning, cut me off. "Pastor, it was really, really sweet of you to do that with me. I had a good time. I don't do it with boys I don't like. I like you." She paused. "Actually, we should probably talk at least at little about me. My parents are going to ask. Well, I have taken some risks that I shouldn't have. But I survived and, as you can see, I've learned a lot about people." She paused and looked meaningfully at me. "One thing I've learned is not to make enemies unnecessarily. You don't have to worry about me saying anything. But I'm wondering: what are you planning to tell my parents?" "Just," I stammered, "uh . . . that you were open with me. We talked about . . . various risks, and I got the impression you were very mature and could make good judgments." I was ashamed of the inanity of this. Her parents had sent her to me for counseling, and I completely lost control of the situation. I hadn't changed her at all, hadn't even tried to. I'd just enabled her, in a way that was completely unethical, if not legally chargeable. For a moment, I felt awful, helpless. She said thoughtfully, "Yeah, that sounds OK. Don't promise them anything, please. I'll try to drop a few hints that you made me think. Maybe that will calm them down." She paused. "You did. Make me think. Not the way you were planning to, but surprise can sometimes be a neat thing, huh?" There was a silence. I was exhausted. Now I just wanted her to leave. The whole thing was messy, in more ways than one. I needed to be alone and think. "Pastor," she said. "I've gotta go. Yeah, I mean take a leak, too. I need a cigarette. Also, fresh panties. You don't have to show me out." She paused. "I'm sure you know we aren't going to see each other again. But before I go, can I ask you something? Do you know what you're looking for?" "Yes," I mumbled. And then I blurted out, one last time that day without thinking "But I don't know where I'm going to find her." "Can't help you there, pastor." She left quickly and quietly. We were both wrong. Although we didn't see each other again for over a year, and then only through the sheerest coincidence, Kivvy and I were married a little more than three years after that fateful day. (What did I say about "heaven-sent"?) I was no longer working as a minister, which was good because it was never right for me. But don't ever try to tell me miracles don't happen: my Kivvy is now a church lady herself. We go to that same church, along with our two young children. Afterward, we usually go over to her parents' place for brunch. They have no idea what happened when they sent her to me for counseling, and they never will. But, without it, they wouldn't have the son or grandchildren they do. And, to this day, the phrase "counseling session" has a special meaning for Kivvy and me. Church Lady I'm not the first man to notice that there are a lot of pretty ladies in church. Our church seems to have more than its share. I remember when I first visited being very distracted by so many nicely dressed attractive women. Over the years since then I have joined the church and become very active. I am sincere and devout in my beliefs, but I am also a man with a strong sex drive whose wife does not share this attribute and prefers not to know how I deal with my excess need. For the most part, I watch internet porn and take care of myself like I imagine most guys do. But increasingly I have found my mind wandering to thoughts one of the "church ladies" in particular. Her name is Ava. Ava is a lovely married lady who may be a year or two younger than my 54 years. We have become good, totally platonic, friends often discussing our kids and the church. She is very friendly and we genuinely like each other as people. Our chats have never been anything but g-rated. She is a very lovely lady, about 5'7" with long dark hair. Her black-rimmed glasses give her a cute nerdy look. I'm not good at guessing weights. She is not skinny, but far from overweight. I'd say she has really nice curves. I'm a breast man and she has a more than ample bustline which she shows off, but only in the most modest of ways. She may show the smallest amount of what must be awesome cleavage, but never anything that would be considered inappropriate, even for church. And she does not dress provocatively, although lately I have found even her modest outfits very sexy. A few weeks ago, I was working in the church kitchen, preparing for a festival. It was late afternoon and all the other people had gone home when Ava arrived. Since most of the work had already been done, she busied herself cleaning up. After a typically friendly hello, I had returned to my task until I finished after about a half hour. I started cleaning up the area where I had been working and eventually found myself at one of the big sinks washing some dishes next to Ava. We chatted casually for a while and finished up our work. Then we sat across from each other on the counters chatting some more. As I was talking about fundraising, Ava glanced down and noticed that she had a little smear of some food on her tight while shirt, right between her big, round breasts. Without a thought or any hesitation, she pulled at her shirt and began to scratch at the partially dried stain to brush it away. My eyes immediately locked on to what she was doing and after a few seconds, I guess my voice kind of trailed off. I saw her fingers stop working at the stain and I looked up to her face and saw her eyes meet mine. She had caught me staring at her chest. I managed a weak smile and said, "Oops. Sorry." Ava smiled sweetly and chuckled a little. I tried to restart whatever I had been saying without really making much sense. I tried locking eyes with Ava, but it seemed too intense and creepy, so I kind of looked all around the room. As I babbled, all I could think of was the outline of her bra under the tight, white shirt and how big her breasts were in comparison to her hands. I imagined her holding her breasts and how much of them would not be covered. Then I glanced back to Ava and she was looking at my crotch! I looked down and saw that my cock was almost fully hard making a tent out of my loose cargo shorts. I looked up at Ava as she quickly looked up to meet my gaze. She said, "Oops. Sorry," with a little shrug. I tried to quickly adjust myself without much success at concealing my obvious erection. "I'm sorry, Ava. I guess I just kind of lost control of myself. You know I think the world of you and wouldn't want to insult you or... I hope you don't think I'm a pervert or a creep... You are a lovely lady and..." my voice trailed off as I ran out of apologies. I didn't want to dig myself in any deeper. "No, it's ok. I don't mind. It's flattering. I don't get that kind of reaction... that is, you can't control what you... I mean, I didn't mean to expose myself.." It seemed Ava couldn't find a way to casually brush it off any more than I could. We both giggled at our discomfort. We smiled at each other. There was a long moment in which our eyes were locked. I hopped down and stepped toward her and she slid down from the counter on which she had been sitting and we stood face to face. "Here, let me have a go at that stain," I said slipping my hand down the front of her shirt over her bra. With my other hand I brushed at the dried food stain. I let the hand inside her shirt press back between her breasts held back by her bra. I felt her hand cup my stiffening cock through my shorts and boxers. "This should go in the washer," I said. There was a washer in another room at the back of the kitchen. I took her hand and we walked back to the washer where I peeled the shirt from her and put it in the machine. It rumbled to life. I pushed the door closed and button-locked it. I turned and saw Ava in her bra and slacks. I moved to her and crushed my lips to hers. She opened her lips and sucked my tongue into her mouth and ground her lips against mine. Her passion was so strong. My hands ran up and down her back and to her rounded butt. I felt the panties she had on through her white slacks. Her hands held my head, pushing our mouths together then ran down my chest and to my aching cock now straining to get free. I lifted Ava up onto the washer and reached behind her to unhook her bra. She never broke our kiss and her tongue plunged into my mouth and danced over my lips. I had not experienced such passionate kissing since I was a teenager. I moved to kiss behind her ear and on her neck as the bra came undone and she shrugged it off. Ava reacted volcanically to the kisses and gentle biting on her neck. She offered me the other side to nibble and kiss then leaned back giving me a view of, and access to, her amazing breasts. Ava tossed her padded bra aside. I stared in awe at her full, round breasts as they heaved with her every breath. They were larger than I imagined and sagged under their own weight. But they were full and upright at the same time. Her nipples were extraordinary. Each was three-quarters of an inch long and a half-inch across, like thick pencil erasers from one of those big novelty pencils. And each pink-brown nipple was surrounded by a small aureole of the same color. My hands found her twin mounds and she renewed and deepened our kiss. It was as if we were trying to consume one another. She placed her hands on mine and squeezed them, making them squeeze her full breasts harder than I would have felt comfortable doing on my own. She breathed deeply and repeated this nonverbal instruction until I began to strongly knead her large, fleshy boobs in the way she obviously craved. I kissed my way down to them and took one big nipple in my mouth and sucked it. Ava moaned into my ear, her dark hair draped over me. I inhaled her fragrance and arousal. My hand mauled one breast as I suckled the other. I felt her big nipple lengthen still more and stiffen. The aureole tightened and lifted up, tightening her breast. I moved to the other breast, pausing a moment to look at the first and appreciate the glow of her remarkable flesh. Her hand pushed my head down on her chest and I eagerly repeated a deep sucking and gentle biting of the big nipple. "Bite it harder, baby," she urged. And I complied. "More," she urged. And I bit down hard. Ava stifled a scream and then growled like a tigress. I pushed her massive tits together and buried my face in the endless flesh. My mouth moved back and forth between the huge, stiff nipples and Ava tossed her head from side to side in wild abandon. Her legs had wrapped around my torso and she was grinding her crotch against me. Her body was strong and she was wild with passion. My hands massaged her big tits with more vigor, waiting for her to tell me to be more gentle, but she never did. My lips felt the pebbly texture of her tightened aureole and the smooth stiffness of her nipples. The size of the sweet nubs was such a turn-on. I slid my lips up and down the length of each nipple and then nibbled each one in turn. I felt Ava shudder and heard her growl and almost shriek. Her pelvis rocked against me. This was her first orgasm. It seemed to last for several minutes as she held my face to her chest and convulsed in almost violent spasms. When Ava's orgasm had subsided, she slid down from the washer and knelt in front of me. She undid my shorts and let them drop to the floor. Her fingers hooked the waistband of my boxers and drew them down, her hands caressing my ass-cheeks as she pushed them to the floor. My cock was almost as hard as it could get. She took it in her hand and stroked it, feeling its weight and sizing up its length and girth. "Mmmm. It's a big one," she purred as a sly smile curled her lips. She put her lips to the end of my cock and took it into her mouth. Her mouth was warm and wet and her tongue flicked and licked it all over. It swirled around the head and then tickled the underside. At the same time her mouth seemed to engulf more and more of the shaft. Her head twisted and bobbed and her moans vibrated my whole body. Once her mouth had taken over, her hands moved. One cupped my heavy balls and gently weighed and jostled them. Her other hand cupped my ass and pushed me toward her. I had never seen a woman with such passion and skill for sucking a cock. Not in porn, and not in real life. She seemed to need to consume and stimulate and work over every part of my cock from every angle. She was in constant motion, not hurried, but still almost urgently pumping her mouth and using her lips to move up and down and to twist and turn on the now rock-hard shaft. Her tongue found the hole at the tip and flicked it, then swirled down as she took me as deeply as possible into her mouth and throat. She held my cock buried that way and pushed her tongue out to tease my balls, then slowly pulled up until her pursed lips kissed the tip of my stiff cock. Wetness dripped from my cock to the balls and down her chin. I was watching her every move in awe and feeling an other-worldly pleasure no woman had every come close to giving me. She was beyond skilled, she was consumed in her sexual prowess and passion. She wasn't sucking my cock for my pleasure, she was sucking my cock for her pleasure. And that gave me more pleasure that I had ever felt. Time drifted as she took me deep, then licked every bit of my cock and balls, sucking each one in turn. Her hands, slick with wetness jacked my shaft when it was not in her mouth and cradled and caressed my balls. A finger even teased my asshole, at first as if by accident, but gradually, with more obvious intent. I was putty in her hands. I could have died then and there a happy man. As I became conscious of just how skilled she was and how sexy this amazing woman was at reading my needs and sensing what I wanted before even I knew, I felt my balls begin to tighten. A titanic orgasm was building. It was not anything voluntary on my part, it was simply on its way. Ava seemed to sense it, though, and she had other plans. I felt her fingers move to the base of my cock and squeeze deeply between there and my balls. It was not unpleasant, but it banished that feeling of needing to release my cum. Ava rose, kissing her way up my body and again slid up on the washer. I undid her white slacks. She raised her sweet, round hips and I slipped them down her strong, smooth legs. I hooked my thumbs on the elastic of her white cotton panties and pulled them down as well. I noticed that the crotch was soaked in her wetness. Ava might have wanted to feel my cock push into her pussy then, but the sight of those wet panties and the aroma of her pussy made my mouth water and my hunger for her pussy was not to be denied. I buried my face in her dark nest of pubic hair, inhaling her scent and kissing and probing with my tongue. As I moved my lips and tongue, I found the parting of her lips and ran my tongue along it. It opened like the petals of a flower. My tongue tasted her wetness and felt the smoothness of her pussy's lips. I ran my tongue up from near her hole to her clit. Ava arched her back and purred. I noted that her clit was large and hard, it had emerged from its hood and, although I did not want to give it direct attention so early in my probing, I couldn't help but give it a gentle kiss. Ava again moaned and wriggled her hips. I licked down toward the opening of Ava's pussy and pushed my tongue inside. The wetness and sweet taste were intoxicating. I rubbed my lips in the warmth and took her inner lips and tugged them slightly. Holding them between my lips, I ran my tongue between them and again contacted her clit. I dived deep again and slurped at her wetness. Ava was riding my face and holding my head in place, grinding against me. I loved it. She guided my mouth to where she wanted attention and she wanted attention on that big, hard clit. I flicked my tongue at it playfully eliciting a moan, then I swirled my tongue around it as she had with my cock-head. Again she moaned. I opened my lips and took the clit and its surrounding flesh inside my lips and sucked gently, then harder. My tongue flicked and vibrated across the flesh and I felt her clit throb. I sucked it directly and licked it up and down and side to side. Ava's pelvis undulated and she struggled to stifle her screams. I looked up and saw her fingers gripping her big breasts tightly. Her fingernails had dug into the soft, firm flesh. As she convulsed, her fingers pinched and twisted her big nipples cruelly and pulled them up and lifted her tits by them, shaking the large masses violently. When she cupped her breasts, the nipples remained distended, huge and raw. I eased my attention on her clit until her orgasm eased, then resumed licking the wetness and and sucking on her swollen pussylips. I eased a finger into her drenched pussy and curling it upward found her g-spot also swollen and sensitive. I barely touched it when Ava gasped a breath and curled up tensing her stomach. I flicked my tongue on her clit again and Ava exploded. I had never seen a woman cum so hard so quickly after an orgasm. She reached down and pulled my hand removing my finger from her g-spot. Immediately, a gush of clear, sweet liquid shot from her pussy into my mouth, splattering my face. Another and another squirt jetted forth. I sucked and slurped at the mini-geysers, but my face was soaked. Ava had a death-grip on my head, holding it in place as her climax rumbled through her body like a freight train. The only "squirter" I had ever been with up to then had produced a single little drop of wetness. Ava had nearly drown me in her juice. I looked up at her and she was in a daze recovering. I stood and grasped my still rock-hard cock and pushed its large mushroom cap head against the soaking wet gaping pussy Ava offered to me and thrust inward with a strong and steady pressure until I was buried balls deep in her. Ava gasped and screamed into my mouth as our kiss became a mutual moan of ecstasy. Her pussy was so warm and tight and soft. It gripped my cock and seemed to massage it as I began a slow rhythm of deep strokes. Ava kissed me deeply and I felt her mouth was doing to mine what her pussy was doing for my cock. I have never felt so connected to a woman as I did at that moment. She was an inferno of passion and lust. Her hips squirmed and twisted and danced. Her legs enwrapped me and held me tightly to her and accentuated my own stroking in and out of her warm, wet, velvet pussy. I felt like we were floating. Ava's pussy was dripping with her juices. They clung to and dripped from my cock down to my balls and dripped down to her asshole. As I gripped her ass I could feel the wetness everywhere. My cock felt so stiff it ached. I was building to a monumental climax of my own. I couldn't tell when Ava was coming any more. She had reached a state of constant pleasure and her moans and grunts and shrieks and deep kisses just flowed from her. Her body danced a sensuous ballet of desire against mine. I was not in control. I was just trying to keep up. I had never been a part of sex like this. She was having whole-body orgasms that seemed to flow one to the next. We were sweating and grinding and my hands roamed from her hips to those amazing breasts. I leaned down to suck on one and she gasped that I should bite her nipples. I did so without a pause. She yelped and told me to suck them hard and I obeyed. She cupped one breast and leaned down to lick her own nipple. My cock strained and ached at the sight. I leaned down and our two tongues licked the big bud together. My balls slapped at Ava's ass and they began to tighten desperately. "Don't cum in my pussy, baby," she whispered. I was about to tell her about my vasectomy, thinking she was worried about pregnancy when she added, "I want you to cum in my ass." I barely had time for the words to register in my brain when she had twisted to one side and leaned over the washing machine, which was in its final spin cycle. Ava's fine round ass jutted at me. Her strong legs were spread wide and I was nearly blind with lust. I grasped my thick shaft and positioned the head of my cock at the tightly puckered rosebud of her anus. I had just rubbed the tip against the knot of muscles when Ava hissed back over her shoulder. "Shove it deep now." I pushed forward with all my weight and strength. My cock was as fully wet and lubricated as it could be from her pussy's fountaining and our sweat. Her asshole had likewise been drenched with her juices. But the sensation of her backdoor giving way and my cock's length and girth forcing its way deeply into her nether orifice was unreal. I felt the incredible tightness of the entrance and then the molten heat of her bowels. But more, I felt her body convulse and gyrate and I heard her grunt and moan and scream out an animal sound. I held her tightly against me and began to fuck her ass without mercy. I grasped her hips and forced my length deep and then pulled out fully and then plunged back in to my balls. I gave her my full cock over and over and she screamed through gritted teeth with every penetration. After a few such strokes I realised that she was fucking up and back against me. I stood still and she worked herself onto and off of my rock-hard cock. I reached around to cradle those big, sweet tits in my hands. The masses overflowed my hands, the huge nipples burning into my palms. I lightly held the fleshy globes and felt them sway and bounce from her motion. And that was the sensation that pushed me beyond the point of no return. My hands tightened on Ava's big tits and my hips bucked forward strongly. Ava grunted and my balls exploded. I felt the cum blast up my cock and out into her ass. Ava felt it too. She moaned and hissed. I pumped and pumped my cock until my knees all but buckled. I slumped down upon this beautiful amazing woman. This was beyond any sex I had ever imagined. A moment passed and Ava moved from under me. She knelt again in front of me and sucked my now defeated cock clean. Then she stood up and kissed me sweetly and softly like a lover. Then she spoke. "Next time, we'll find a more comfortable place and we'll have more time to play. Next time."