Church Encounter

“Peace be with you.”

“Peace.”

“Good morning. Peace.”

“Hi, Tina. Peace. Good to see you.” She looked up at me from under her brow in a girlish way.

“Hi, Jack. Peace of the Lord. You look nice today,” she said.

The smile of reassurance on Tina’s face indicated that she meant it. How she could tell I “looked” under my choir robe was another issue altogether. But our flirtation each Sunday morning at church was something I neither understood, nor discouraged.

Tina is the 26-year-old mother of two and wife of a handsome Emergency Medical Technician. What she sees in me is a mystery. I’m 35-years-old, married for 15 years and have begun the old man’s misery of losing my hair and adding some girth to my middle. The true affection that I see from Tina every week, however, is unmistakable.

And the lust I hold for her is as real. Tina is a petite strawberry blonde, about 5 feet tall with a fabulous figure. Each Sunday as she passes the choir on her way to commune with God I admire her frame: a teenager’s wet-dream embodiment of the perfect cheerleader; firm rear end, full breasts, tight stomach and wonderful, thick hair. Better still are her deep blue eyes and cute nose. Her ears wiggle when she smiles and her breath smells like roses.

“Thanks Tina, but you’re the one that looks good,” I reply. There’s no time for small talk, it’s offering time and the choir has a Rutter piece to perform. I return to my place at the end of the row in the stall and prepare for the service to continue.

During the musical offering I steal a glance at Tina. She smiles and winks. The song concludes and the priest continues. We lift up our hearts, we give ourselves over, and we share in the body and blood. While the congregation files past to share at the railing we sing the familiar communion hymns. Our familiarity with the music allows me to make eye contact and “connect” with many of my friends as they pass.

Then she ascends the few steps into the apse and begins walking past. Her attention seems focused on the business at hand. I drink in her beauty. A halo hangs over her head as the lights strike her hair. I watch her breathe, blink, tilt her head slightly, then turn to look at me directly. Almost in slow motion the corners of her mouth turn. I smile back. She again turns her attention to the front of the church and takes another step forward. I can see every little thing…no movement of hers is lost.

The hymn continues and more congregates file past. I close my eyes “…Alleluia, Alleluia, Give thanks to the risen Lord. Alleluia, Alleluia, Give praise to His name…” we sing. I feel someone brush against me, open my eyes and see that Tina has joined me on the kneeler. My look of curiosity is met with a friendly arm around my middle. She leans close and whispers in my ear…her hot breath makes the hair on my neck stand up.

“The Alter group is meeting this afternoon to clean out the sacristy. Would you be able to stop by and help us?”

I nod, point to my watch and hold up 2 fingers, indicating that I can return at 2:00pm.

Tina pulls her arm tightly against me and stands to return to her pew.

Two o’clock cannot come fast enough. Though there will be other women about, the chance to spend some time with this vision is time that I will cherish. I love the feeling I get talking with her, how her eyes focus on my lips as I talk, how I get goofy and silly. I love how she plays along with me.

A quick lunch and explanation to my wife suffices. I absorb some football then hop in the car for the drive back to church.

It’s odd, though, that there are no other cars in the lot when I park. And stranger still that there is only one light on inside the church when I enter. I walk down the aisle towards the sacristy, whistling nervously as I do when I’m alone in a big building…worrying that the boogeyman will, in fact, finally jump out and “get” me. I stop at the door and listen for a moment. I can hear some rustling around, but certainly not the usual gaggle of hens chirping about the sermon and griping about how poor a job the priest does in caring for his vestments.

I reach for the knob and begin to turn it. “Tina?”

“Jack. Come on in, baby. I need your big strong hands. And lock the door behind you.”

Tina sits on a chair in the corner, one leg thrown over the arm. Her index finger pulls at her lower lip and she reaches out her other hand towards me.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s a sin to lie,” says Tina, “but I lied to you. It’s just me here right now. I’m supposed to get things ready for the evening service. Would you like to come here to me?”

I think “If it’s a sin to lie, then I’m heading straight for Hell!” as I fall to my knees and lean in to kiss her. She pulls my tongue into her mouth and envelopes it with hers. We kiss so long and so hard that we forget to breathe. There is the faintest smell of lilacs on her neck as I kiss my way around her beauty. Every millimeter of skin I fill with kisses.

She replies to my kisses by pulling at the back of my shirt. Soon I’m topless and she is tugging at her own shirt. As she pulls it over her head and her face is hidden I unabashedly stare at her bra--filled to overflowing. The unmistakable bumps of excitement poke forth from the shimmering fabric and I reach around to unburden its load.

No words are spoken, merely grunts and groans as we strip and kiss, kiss and strip. I kneel before her in nothing but my cotton briefs…and she accomplishes what I was unable to: her bra gives way and her breasts tumble free. Though my first instinct is to smother them with my lips and tongue I pause and admire these gifts.

Her breasts are the size of large grapefruit, and nearly as heavy. The areolas like a half-dollar and standing proudly in the middle are two rock hard nipples. She places her hand beneath one, as if to offer it to me. It is a present I cannot refuse. As my mouth approaches it I start to suck in air so that when my lips make contact we are joined. My teeth gently replace the grip my lips engaged and I roll her nipple between them. Then I wrap my tongue around it. Tina’s other breast is in my left hand and, not wanting it to feel left out, I lean that direction and flick my tongue on her other nipple.

Though her skin is warm to the touch, it is easy to see that she is chilled. I pull her close to me and hug her tightly. We kiss again, almost savagely at first, then gently, tenderly, quietly. I am reading her mind, just as she is reading mine. Do we go the next step? Do we make love? Right here? Are we crazy for doing this?

She places her left cheek against my right cheek and whispers. “Let’s.”

Did she feel me tremble when she said that? Can she feel my heart beating nearly out of my chest? I ignore my thoughts and focus again on her. Leaning back I place myself in line with her hips and reach for the waistband of her panties. She stares at my face, eager to see my reaction to the first sight of her love.

Neatly trimmed, her blonde pubic hair shines. Once the panties are off her legs spread revealing pink delight. There is no stopping…I barrel my tongue into her, burying my nose in her hair, lapping the juice that falls from her. Excitement has had its way with her and she wears the water. Her love button stands at attention and feels the wrath of my tongue.

Giggles and groans escape from Tina. Her hips buck and her hands push my head deeper into her. She tastes like Spring. She has an orgasm like a microburst…a shiver, an shake and I see her eyes, before tightly closed, open and look down on me.

Placing her hands on my face she pulls me toward her and kisses the juice from my lips. With a quick tumble I replace her on the chair and she draws south toward my waiting erection. My underwear is discarded and she admires the glistening head, pre-come covers its purpleness. Her tongue darts out and lands on the tip, she tastes the salty sweetness of my excitement. Then, holding it up by the butt of her hand, Tina runs her tongue up its length and plunges her mouth over it.

The licking and mouthing is nearly too much to handle. She urges even more liquid from me and covers her lips with it. Then she rubs up my body with hers and plants those wet lips on mine. I lick the juice from her lips and pull her tongue deep into my mouth.

Tina positions herself over me and holds my member in place as she lowers herself onto it. Slowly, I feel every inch invading her. Our wetness mingles. Our chests rub and I feel her nipples nearly cut me. My right hand cups her tiny ass as I force the last millimeter into her.

There we pause. I look deeply at her, and she returns the gaze. My hands move to her waist and I lift her slight frame just a bit. She rises so that I nearly fall out of her, and then drops down on me. Tina’s hips begin bucking as she rubs her button against me. Her wetness falls from her and I feel myself grow. Her arms are around my neck and she breathes heavily while her tiny rear makes circles in the air.

The moment of truth arrives, as always, much too quickly. Perhaps some words are uttered, who can be sure if they are words or simply grunts confirmed by body language. I feel her tense up just as I feel the end rise up in me. From my toes comes a splash that fills her, then another, and another. She wiggles uncontrollably while her body drinks me in.

Then, as quickly as it began, the feeling drops from us. Our tight muscles and short breaths are replaced by relaxed, deep inhalations. Tina drapes herself over me and we lie still, holding each other. An eternity passes. She lifts her head from my shoulder and kisses me lightly. She kisses my chin, my lips, my nose. She straightens my hair (what there is of it, anyway) in a motherly way.

I rub her back and pat her bottom. “Well?”

“I suppose,” she pauses, “help me prepare the chapel?”

“Of course. But first, let’s get dressed and pay a visit to the railing.”

Tina and I kneel together, touching; our eyes closed, our hands folded in quiet conversation. Warmth and love are all about. And though I know that I should be praying for forgiveness, as Tina surely is, all I can do is say “Thank you.”