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A Surprising Sunday Service

12

He looked down on the congregation from his vantage above them. They were all listening intently to pastor Rob. He seemed to have their attention, but Mike found he tuned out as soon as he heard the voice. Organized religion just didn't do it for him.

He could make out Carol's profile from here, her rapt expression told him that she was buying whatever Rob was selling. The guy was young and energetic, but that did nothing to sway Mike's stance on religion, no matter how much Carol insisted it could, if only he would listen. But, he loved Carol, and marriage is about compromise, so he attend church with her because it made her happy.

He could see his daughter, Sara, sitting with the choir. She seemed to be listening too. Thank God Tobey was such a little shit. It gave Mike an excuse to take his screaming son out of the church and to the outside annex where they kept the kids under 10 occupied with Sunday school.

Tobey had seemed quite happy there. They were letting them kick soccer balls and eat cookies. The lady in charge there had taken Mike's number and told him to go back in for the service, "We find it better if the parents don't hang around. The kids act up less."

That was beyond fine for Mike and, best of all he did not have to go back in and listen to pastor Rob drone on for another, he looked at his watch. Shit, there was still an hour to go.

After leaving Tobey he had wandered around outside for a while, before coming across a small outside staircase that led up to the organ balcony at the back of the church. Curious, and not finding any signs or locked doors to bar his progress, he wandered up. From up there he could look down on the whole congregation. There were enough recesses and dark shadows that he knew he could stay up there completely unseen.

He sniffed the musty air. Since pastor Rob had come along this part of the church was hardly used any more. Rob had brought in a band. He also sang and played lead guitar and everyone sang soft rock Christian songs instead of traditional hymns. So there was hardly a need for the old organ. Carol called Rob 'progressive'. Mike, having heard the band, called him a talentless wannabe who now had a captive audience.

Mike had enjoyed the choir, at least. That was one concession to tradition Rob allowed. And watching Sara's face light up when she sang was thrilling. Their soloist, too, was a pleasure to watch.

Becca? Was that her name? She was gorgeous and, if Sara was to be believed, a genius too.

Mike sniffed again. That was not the musty smell of old church. That was something he remembered all too well from his college days.

Who was smoking weed in a church?

It took him a while to trace it but, eventually, he spotted a small door that lead out onto a balcony on the outside of the church.

There was a girl out there, dressed in choir robes. She was sitting, back to the wall, staring through the balcony bars at a small courtyard Mike had not been aware was even there. Her robe was pulled up to her thighs, revealing long, pale legs. He saw then the casual flick of a thumbnail to dislodge the ash from her spliff.

Mike wasn't sure why he did it. He had been feeling belligerent all morning since being dragged to church, when he could have been at home watching the game. He slid through the partially open glass door and asked, "Nice spot you have here. Mind if I take a hit?"

The girl looked up, clearly surprised. He had not seen her face, a curtain of dark brown hair had hid the side closest to him. But, as she turned, Mike winced when he recognized Becca. Her face was flushed red with embarrassment.

Mike gave his best 'I'm not here to bust you' smile. Becca seemed to calm when he she realized he was not shouting at her.

Becca was not a friend of Sara's, precisely. Becca was two years older for one thing. But, she was something of a mentor to Sara at school and a youth leader in the church. She was that kid everyone always compared their own kids to. Beautiful, straight A's, always busy doing community service and already accepted into half a dozen top colleges.

Mike was shocked to see her smoking weed, in church no less. In a weird way he felt like she had caught him doing something bad.

He sighed and dropped his head. "Relax, I am not going to say anything. Shit, I was going to ask you for some until I saw who you were."

She looked up at him warily, "you're Sara's dad, right?"

"Guilty," he answered.

"She's a sweet kid. I like her."

Mike laughed, "Kid? You're hardly older than her."

Becca shrugged, "I feel a lot older." Without looking at him she held up the spliff, "Here, still want some?"

"Fuck, yes," Mike answered. "It's the only way I'll make it through this." He took it from her and inhaled, tentatively, not wanting to make an ass of himself and cough everywhere.

Becca laughed, it was a beautiful thing to watch. Her grey eyes danced with amusement, "You're a pretty cool guy, Sara's dad."

Smoke escaped his mouth and nose, in what was meant to be scoffing laugh, but sounded more like a splutter, "Try telling my teenager daughter that." He fought back the tickling cough, trying to maintain any semblance of coolness he could. "Call, me Mike, by the way."

"Becca."

"Yeah, I know. I saw your solo today. You have a beautiful voice."

"Thank you." Her young eyes crinkled with genuine appreciation for the compliment.

Mike recalled how she had looked, standing at the front of the choir, her pure, clear voice resonating through the church. He was glad his wife couldn't read his thoughts, because he had been secretly been fantasizing about pushing his cock between those pouty pink lips. She looked so innocent in her full choir vestment, he ached to rip it off her. Somehow, being in church only made his dark fantasies even darker. He had to remind himself that she was little older than his daughter.

"Mike," Becca suddenly addressed him, as if she had come to some sort of conclusion, "You can't really say anything about me smoking weed out here, can you? Seeing as you did it too, right?"

"I guess so, Becca. But I wouldn't say anything anyway. I was young once too, and I can see you have a lot of shit going on in your life. You strike me as someone who has a lot of pressure on them. You probably need a break every once in a while."

She smiled a wonderfully warm smile at him then, "Thank you, I think that is the nicest thing anyone has said to me. It has been," she trailed off, "a tough week. A tough couple of years, really."

Mike shrugged and took another puff. He was starting to feel the warm fuzzy haze wrapping his consciousness.

"My parents have pretty much every second of my day worked out. This is the one moment I have to myself, between AP classes, social work, clubs, singing. That doesn't even include school and extra credit."

Mike gave a sympathetic snort, not sure of what to add.

"So," Becca, bit her bottom lip, "I can say pretty much anything to you out here and you can't do anything about it, can you? I mean, it would look worse for you to be found out here with a young girl smoking weed than it would for me, right?" She widened her eyes and batted her lashes theatrically, "What with me being so young and innocent."

Mike was, again, unsure of what to say. He shrugged one shoulder and looked out over the courtyard. It looked disused, the plants were brown and scraggly, the fountain dry. He looked at her out of the corner of an eye. She was biting her bottom lip again, nervously. He was going to get hard just watching her do that.

"I am going to level with you, Mike. I am crazy horny. I normally come out here, once I've done my solo, and rub one out after I get a little buzzed. Having all those people I know just meters away, being out here in the open, yet where no one can see me, it makes me come so fucking horny I am surprised I don't scream loud enough to halt the service."

Mike inhaled the entire spliff, then coughed and spluttered as it burned the inside of his lips and left ash on his tongue. He spat it out and watched it tumble down to the courtyard below.

Becca laughed so hard she had to hold her sides, "Your face!" Was all she could get out between the laughter.

Mike felt his face grow hot. He turned as if to leave. This sobered Becca. She grabbed his hand and held him back.

"Wait, wait." There was still laughter in her voice, "I am actually being serious."

She sighed and grew sombre, "Look, you caught me here at a time where I am reconsidering some shit in my life. No one really knows me. I'm a good girl, I do everything right. But, just once I want to admit to someone that I have dark shit going on in my head. Just once I want to do something just because I feel like it. If people only know the dirty thoughts I have going on inside me they would probably lock me up.

She stared out at the courtyard a moment before continuing, "And here you come, Mike. It feel like it's fate, or some crap like that." She gave him a level look, "I've always had a thing for older guys, Mike."

Mike suddenly felt nervous, half expecting his wife to come looking for him any second. He wanted to leave. "Look, I'd better get back. I won't say anything about", he stammered, "about any of this."

Becca grabbed his hand before he could back away. There was a fiery intensity in her eyes when she spoke to him, "I know you won't, don't you see? That's the point!"

She continued in a burst, as if she wanted to get it out before she changed her mind, "I am so fucking horny, Mike. You interrupted my one moment of peace all week. Now you owe me."

She pulled herself up by his hand. Mike was frozen. She carried on the motion until she had pulled herself flat against him. He could feel the soft press of her breasts on his chest. Her breathing was hot in his ear.

"After I finish my solo I am supposed to go and help in the Sunday school," she whispered in his ear. "But, instead, You know what I do? I strip naked in the vestry and put my robe back on. I walk around the church while everyone is inside there praying. Do you know how good it is to feel the cool air moving over my bare pussy?"

Mike's cock had grown agonizingly hard. He was too scared to move it, even though it pushed uncomfortably against his trousers.

"Then," she continued, "I like to come out here and rub my little clit until I come." She nibbled his earlobe. "I can do it, see, because pastor Rob and my parents think I am running a Sunday school group. Desiree, at the Sunday school, thinks I am helping Mildred with the guest tea for after the service and, Mildred thinks I stay in the stalls with the rest of the choir."

She gently placed her elegantly tapered fingers on Mike's chest, toying with his top button.

"So I have this one perfect moment worked out, where no one bothers me. And now, I have you to share it with me."

Without him being fully aware, she had slowly been using Mike's hand to hike up her robes while she spoke. He was powerless to resist her. He gasped when he felt the bare skin of her thigh under his fingers.

Her voice was hoarse in his ear. "Want to feel how wet I am?"

Mike did, more than he had ever wanted anything before. His marriage and family suddenly paled in comparison to his need to slide his hands up inside her robes and see if she was telling the truth about being completely naked under there.

He did not fight her when she took his other hand and, holding it lightly, helped him to lift her robe up over her hips.

He strained painfully in his suit pants as he continued to feel only bare skin, all the way up, until his fingers were sinking into the resilient flesh of her tight little ass.

A moan escaped his lips. Becca leaned back and grinned at him.

"There's no turning back, Mike. Not now that you've had your big, manly hands on my teenage ass."

Mike didn't say it, but he knew there was no turning back, and it had nothing to do with the threat of a fall from grace. He needed to see and feel the rest of Becca the way he needed air to breathe.

While his hands had paused, squeezing her pliant flesh of her pert little backside, hers continued upwards, raising the robe, revealing more and more naked flesh. His height, and her proximity, made it impossible for him to see her naked sex, but he could see the flat plane of her belly and the gentle rise of her shaved mons.

She drew in her breath as she raised the robe, swelling her chest and drawing her stomach in, her ribs becoming more pronounced beneath her skin. The robe met brief resistance at her breasts, lifting them up, before letting them tumbled out heavily and bounce in a most pleasing manner. The nipples, centered in her large pink areolas, were fiercely erect. He had only a moment to take in her perfection before she pressed her body hard against him. He could feel her warm skin through his shirt, her hard nipples were like pebbles against his chest. He felt he might spurt come into his pants.

She pressed her lips into his. Mike was still frozen, his lips pinched in surprise at this turn of events. Her wet tongue forced their way between them, however, and he succumbed, entirely lost in the young, supple body wrapped around him.

He dug his hands deeper into her flesh, spreading her bare ass apart, and opened his mouth fully to her kiss. She sucked at his tongue hungrily.

Then she broke away and pulled the robe over her head, standing naked before him. He could see the modesty in her awkward pose, her toes turned inwards, her hands clasped together fighting then urge to cover herself. She had nothing to be modest about, his eyes ran ravenously over her perfect teenage body.

She caught him staring at her hairless pussy and smiled. "I shaved it this morning. It tingles when I walk around with nothing but the robe to cover me. It makes me so horny I can barely make out here in time. Do you like it, Mike?"

"It's the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen," he wheezed out through a tight chest.

Clearly happy with his response, she turned and pressed her back to him, taking his hands once more and guiding them up to her breasts. Her body was bared to the empty courtyard, warmed by the morning sun. Mike couldn't help himself. His hands cupped her proud breasts as she leaned back against him and twisted her head to kiss at his cheek and neck. She lifted her arms up and arched her back so she could dig her hands into his hair and bring his head down until he was biting tenderly into her slender neck.

He weighed her breasts, pulled them apart and then squeezed them together. "God," he thought' "there was nothing like the elasticity of young skin." His eager fingers found her nipples and began to tease them with brushes and gentle pinches. He was rewarded by her making little squealing noises in her throat, and grinding her plump backside against his bulging erection.

"I can't wait any more," she groaned. She took his right hand and drew three fingers into her mouth. She sucked on them wetly, letting her saliva run over his fingers. Then she pulled his hand down desperately, like they were needed to staunch a wound, and a second's further hesitation might mean death.

She buried his fingers deep in her cleft and let a sigh of satisfaction escape. He folded his fingers over her mound and felt moisture running over his fingers.

"Jesus, she is so wet!" He thought.

One of his fingers dipped inside her. She was tight. Virgin tight. His finger could not get past the second knuckle. She rolled her hips against him, then lifted them forwards and upwards. The action forced his finger out of her. She seized it in her hand and pressed it hard into the little hood at the top of her cleft until he felt the swell of her engorged clitoris.

"Make me come," she begged.

Mike was happy to oblige. More than that, he was desperate to please her. Making her little body quiver in ecstasy suddenly became the culmination of his existence.

He used his fingers to circle her little bud of a clit. It was so swollen it was almost laughably easy to stimulate. there was no need for subtlety or careful manipulation. She was primed and ready for orgasm, he just had to turn the ignition. In 20 years of marriage Carol had never been this inflamed for him.

He slid his fingers up and down the cleft, using her puffy lips to guide his fingers over the little bump of her clitoris. She mewled and writhed against him. He stroked her with the pace he might use on himself, if he wanted to prolong a long, slow masturbation.

She whimpered and begged him to finish her off. "I can't wait any more. I'll burst."

"What's in it for me?" He growled.

Who was this man inhabiting his body? Mike was stand up citizen, a member of the PTA. Here he was, fingerfucking a teenage girl, and now he was bargaining for more. Worst of all, his wife and children were probably within 30 meters of him.

"I'll let you fuck me."

"Shit, are you serious?" He was hoping for a hand job, but this was beyond expectation.

"Uh huh," her voice was breathy and he could feel her panting breaths against his neck. "But, despite what you may think, I really am a good girl."

"I am sure you are," Mike spoke into her soft hair.

"I'm still a virgin."

Mike let out air like he had been punched in the solar plexus.

" And I am saving myself for marriage..." She trailed off as his fingers brushed a particularly sensitive spot. "You'll... you'll have to fuck my ass. Is that okay?"

He just held back the ring of pleasure that shot up his cock and nearly caused it to burst in premature orgasm. Not once had Carol even let him consider her ass. This was all too much. Caught in this moment, with the promise of what lay ahead, Mike was unsure if he could have stopped himself even if his wife and kids walked in right that second.

"It, it will have to do," His voice came out slightly choked with emotion.

He massaged her deep and hard. His free arm was pressing down hard on her soft breasts, pulling her in as close to him as he could. He could feel her chest rising and falling in shorter, sharper gasps of air. Her lips were open and pressing into his neck, but he could feel her teeth were clenched together tightly.

Feeling himself embody his new, sexually aggressive role, he leaned back so that her legs lifted off the ground. She was so tiny compared to him. She held her legs straight out and he was able to hook them over the balcony railing. Her ass was now suspended in the air, her legs spread wide, exposing her unguarded naked body to the empty courtyard. In the background he could still hear the droning of pastor Rob.

He held her chest tight. She had all of her weight against him now, all of her energy was concentrated on the tiny little spot his fingers were winding up. He worked at it furiously until he felt her tipping over the edge, then he slowed up to an agonizing pace. She whimpered at his cruelty, but he held her there suspended, literally and metaphorically. But she was too far gone, and the merest feather-light brush of his fingers unraveled her. He had to fight to stop himself overbalancing. She shook uncontrollably, her legs rattling the iron railing of the balcony, as she shuddered out the orgasm she had so longed for.

He was lost in it too, sliding his hand deeper and pressing around her entrance to feel her continuing muscular spasms. He had made Carol come before more times than he could count, but never like this. He felt like he had melted Becca. She turned liquid in his arms, and slid off him onto the balcony, still twitching with the residues of pleasure.

"Oh Mike." was all she said, "Oh Mike, Mike, Mike. You have no idea how good that felt. I have never come like that before. Your hands, your body, the people so close to us. It was so bad. So wrong. Oh God, it's turning me on again just thinking about it."

12
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