From the Outside

From the Outside

Copyright 2022 Christopher D.B.

Note from the author: This story is part two of a series. Please read the original story, Collateral Damage, which can be found at here at Literotica.

I'll tell you a story from the road. It happened long enough ago that I feel it's safe to tell. It was late on a Saturday morning. One of the few Saturdays that I'd had to myself, with no obligation to drive to the village for work and training.

My old Airstream trailer was parked on a strip of RV sites behind a cheap motel, located on the least rough side of a declining industrial city. I'd been there for roughly one year.

While I thought about putting on another pot of coffee or maybe taking a load of dirty clothes to the small laundry room over at the motel, I saw a car pull up. A dark blue Taurus. One from the church's fleet.

Through the front window of my trailer I saw Jael get out of the car. She was alone. I got up from the sofa and opened the door seconds after she knocked.

Chewbecca, an old chow, mastiff, shepherd, wooly mammoth mix, gave a low growl and painfully got to her feet, but when she recognized Jael's voice she calmed down a little.

During the week Jael drove what the church called a lunch wagon. A van loaded with either box lunches or food to be served family style, and delivered it to employees at the various businesses they operated here in the city.

She told me that she had been on a courier run and had taken care of that quicker than expected. Having some rare free time, and heard where I was living, she thought she might drop by for a visit. It sounded like a bullshit story to me, but I invited her in.

....

Shortly after I'd moved to that city I started working for an auto repair shop. I'd been drifting around for a while, taking various jobs that didn't work out, and somewhat hated getting back into mechanic work but it was a skill I had and I felt I was getting low on cash.

While at first glance it was your typical shop, maybe looked a little rundown like the rest of the neighborhood, I soon learned that all of the employees belonged to a church that also owned the place. That wasn't necessarily a turn-off for me as there was no pressure to join their church. In fact, religion was rarely discussed at all. They paid me well and had plenty of work.

Around the middle of the day the church's lunch wagon would drop by and everyone would eat together on this covered patio out back, which they called the gathering place. I was welcome to join them, and it was a free lunch, so I did. Dan, the shop's manager would always lead us in a group prayer before the meal. Otherwise the conversation was what you might expect from a bunch of guys.

The lunch wagon was usually driven by some older man, conservatively dressed, and sometimes if he arrived late, maybe us being his last stop, he would stay and join us for the meal. On occasion he would have a helper with him. One day that helper was Jael.

She was short, heavy set, and wore her dark brown hair in a thick bun. I guessed she was in her early to mid twenties like I was at that time. Jael wore the same type of clothes as nearly all the women in that church. A long blue dress with long sleeves, some clumpy shoes, and a loose fitting black shawl that was like something a grandma might wear.

Although her outfit was unflattering and didn't reveal any cleavage, it was impossible not to see that despite her extra weight, it was nicely proportioned. Her large breasts looked like perfect spheres. They were impossible to ignore.

....

So now Jael had dropped in at my trailer. Though no longer growling, my dog eyed her with suspicion.

"She's a retired junkyard dog," I explained. "And this is the first time you're on her turf."

I told Jael I was about to put on some coffee and offered her a cup. Still standing by the front door, she looked around, spotted a bottle of Old Crow in the open cabinet under the TV, and asked if she might have a glass of that instead.

The church had a vineyard and made wine. Drinking alcohol was not forbidden, but was done sparingly. Liquor, that early in the day, it didn't seem right. Still, I poured two glasses over a few ice cubes. It would have been wrong not to join her for a drink.

"You have a nice trailer. Can't say much for this dumpy park hidden back here," she said.

I admitted the little park behind the motel was trash. My trailer was probably the only one there that was roadworthy. You might say my neighbors were a real cast of characters, but I never had any problems with them. There was no need to tell Jael that they stopped talking to me once they saw I was getting involved with the church.

"Have you seen the RV park we have at the village?" she asked. I told her I had passed by it before, it was located near what looked like a motel from the early 70's they called the bachelorette dorm, which I'd learned was where Jael lived.

"Its fifty amps there," she said. "I'm not sure what that means except that it's supposed to be good. The church introduced me to a member that works on the power grid at the village. He told me that."

"I only need thirty amps," I said. "You need fifty if you have two air conditioners on the roof." Then I asked Jael what happened to that guy. I'd noticed that nearly everyone in the church was married, and I was a little surprised that she was single.

"We just didn't connect. Marriages are arranged, in a sense, but they also have to be consensual. I think he was introduced to someone else," she explained.

After taking another sip from her glass, she said she wanted to make herself more comfortable. Jael eased the shawl off her shoulders, revealing a high caliber pistol under one arm pit and several extra magazines under the other in a special rig.

She carelessly tossed her shawl onto the back of a chair, where it slipped off and fell to the floor next to the oversized dog bed where Chewbecca lay, realizing that everything seemed cool.

Slipping off her holster, Jael looked around and then walked over to the microwave which sat in a cubby next to the fridge, and tucked her rig in beside it, the butt of the gun barely visible.

....

The church had a thing for guns. They were sometimes a topic during lunch at the shop and I had mentioned that I owned a.357 revolver. Dan said I was welcome to carry it to work, after all it was a bad neighborhood, but first I would have to go out to their village and shoot a qualifying target. At that time I was sort of keeping the church at arm's length. Mixing church with work didn't feel right, and it wasn't your average church, so I didn't go out there to shoot.

Jael became the lunch wagon driver at that point and often made us her last stop, eating her lunch with us. Although I had met a few other women from the church, lunch wagon helpers, and a few coworkers' wives, all of those guys were married; those women were all quite and maybe even acted a bit submissive.

Jael was outgoing and would talk to anyone, and the other mechanics seemed to treat her like one of the guys. She seemed to take a liking to me, because she said that I was from the outside, same as her.

When I asked what she meant, she explained that I hadn't been raised in the church at their village. I was from outside the church and therefore had different social skills and ideals, which she found intriguing, and she also liked that I already had a biblical name.

Evidently she had joined the church a few years ago after moving to that city, and took a biblical name. She now lived at their village and worked a few jobs for them, mostly dealing with food service. They evidently had a large gathering place there where meals were served, where she worked mornings and evenings.

One day after lunch was over and everyone was heading back into the shop, Jael asked me to take a look at the van she was driving. Something about a noise coming from one of the wheels. So I walked around the other side of the van with her. I thought she was squatting down to check out the rear tire but then Jael unzipped the fly of my coveralls and pulled out my cock. She started sucking it right away.

At that point in my life I had only been sexually involved with a few women and none of them had been crazy about giving head. To suddenly have this conservative church lady down in front of me, her fingers wrapped around the base of my cock as she gently sucked on it with tight lips and what felt like a twisting of her tongue, I was completely caught off guard.

The van was parked as usual in the small lot behind the shop, blocking us from the view of the open back door. The back lot was surrounded by a tall razor wire topped fence, with rusting metal slats woven in the chain link. It was somewhat of a visual barrier from the busy side street and parking lot next door.

Despite my surprise and some lack of privacy, my cock was hard in no time. She took nearly all of it in her mouth, sucking at a modest pace, and would periodically stop and stroke it with a tight loop of her fingers.

I had to adjust my footing so I could lean back against the van. At one point when she was stroking my cock, she let the tip of it rest on her tongue, pointing right into her open mouth. Her tongue slowly licked the head of my cock and the underside of the shaft.

Breathing heavily, nearly lost in the moment, I couldn't help glancing around nervously. The church was very conservative and didn't approve of sex unless it was between a married couple. Now I wasn't a member of the church but I didn't want Jael to get in any trouble. I felt like there was some sort of urgency to cum.

She didn't seem to be in any particular hurry, her thumb and index finger tightly looped around the base of my cock while she slowly ran her tongue up and down the bottom of the shaft.

As she took me into her mouth once again, she reached one hand inside my coveralls. Possibly trying to pull my balls out through the open zipper, though I think the waistband of my boxers was getting in the way.

When she had my balls cupped in her hand, I could feel Jael rubbing her fingers on the backside of my scrotum. I'd never had my balls fondled like that before and I was thrilled.

She tilted her head back, the tip of my cock lying there on her tongue and pointing into her open mouth, and started to gently stroke me with one hand. Her other hand, inside my coveralls, I could feel one of her fingers sneaking up the backside of my scrotum. I thought she was going to finger my asshole. Wasn't sure how I felt about that, but then I had an explosive orgasm.

My knees buckled for a moment, and I was panting heavily. Jael had my cock about halfway in her mouth, lips tightly wrapped around it. I thought I could feel the suction as she swallowed several times, while heavily pumping on the base of my cock.

Like I said, none of the women I'd been with before that time cared to give me head, let alone boldly swallow my cum. Completely satisfied, I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the dirty sleeve of my coveralls.

When I walked back into the shop, no one paid any particular attention to me, except for Dan. He was helping one of the younger mechanics with something, then looked over at me and gave this subtle knowing smile, and a slight nod of his head.

I'm pretty sure I returned the smile, though at the time I wondered if he had somehow seen Jael and I out back or just assumed we were up to something since I was late coming back inside. Although the church wouldn't approve of any type of sex between an unmarried couple, Dan seemed a bit more laid back.

For example, I'd learned that the church didn't approve of using tobacco, but some of the mechanics took smoke breaks a few times a day, and Dan simply ignored it. It seemed he was willing to ignore Jael and I in the back lot as well. It got to a point where she sucked my cock after lunch several days a week and I thought I was living the dream.

I had wanted to get together with her on a weekend or after work sometime, not necessarily for sex, just take her out to dinner or something else like a normal date. She always refused. Said she could only leave the village for work. That was frustrating.

At some time I decided to take Dan up on his offer to go out to the village and see if I could shoot a qualifying target. From what little I'd heard, it was some private compound outside the city where they had their church and some sort of housing for members. That's what it is, but I didn't expect it to be such a large place.

You can't see much of it from the road, other than sprawling farm fields and a little guard shack at the tree line, where Dan was waiting for me. The guards there told me I had to leave my cell phone with them. The church didn't care for cell phones, or computers. Dan said it was best for me to leave my truck in a small parking lot inside the gate and ride with him to the shop. One catch, if you will, for getting time at their gun range was that I would have to spend the morning working at the village auto shop.

The church's village was a mix of newer buildings and older ones that had been refurbished. There were also some large older buildings that looked abandoned, and what looked like industrial ruins at random places on the property. Most of the roads were paved or well kept gravel. When I asked Dan if the village had originally been a company town or military base, he didn't give me a clear answer.

The village auto shop was in its own area, and took up several buildings. I was assigned to work for Isaiah, who ran that shop, while Dan went to work on some heavy equipment in another building. It seems that was his normal weekend routine.

Besides repairs and maintenance, the shop was like a vocational school of sorts for young men that lived in the village. We all wore the same matching coveralls as the shop in the city, but things went at a slower pace and guys with more experience would usually have a younger helper and explain things along the way.

I would later fall into a routine of working many Saturdays there. Long days, though I was allowed to bring my dog so she wouldn't be stuck inside back at home. It might have been cool if Chewbecca had become sort of a shop mascot, but that wasn't her style.

In the afternoon, Dan drove me to what seemed like a remote area of the village property where an outdoor gun range was set up. They had camouflage netting hung at random over the shooting lanes which at the time I thought was to provide shade from the sun, but realize now it was to hide the range from the view of airplanes and maybe government satellites.

I was introduced to the range officer, an older guy with the personality of a drill sergeant. He had me place a target on a stand not far from the firing line. Jael pulled up in a side-by-side ATV, I was a little surprised she had stopped by. The range officer inspected my revolver, told me to shoot all five rounds at the target, and I could start firing whenever I was ready.

Now it had been a while since I'd shot my gun and I had several people watching so the pressure was on, but the target was reasonably close and not very small, a bull's-eye of only two circles. I put all five rounds inside the outer circle. Only one was inside the center ring.

Turning back, muzzle properly pointing at the ground, Dan and Jael appeared satisfied. I saw the range officer was looking a stopwatch.

"You think you could shoot that same group, under stress?" he challenged. His question caught me off guard and I didn't answer. "We can teach you how to do that. If you think you have the balls for it," he said. "Now let's see what your girlfriend can do."

Jael turned her back to the range. The officer handed me an odd looking target. A black sheet of paper with random white squares on it, like some sort of crossword puzzle, and told me to put it on the next stand beyond the target I'd just shot.

I asked which way on the target was right side up. He cackled and said it didn't matter. When I rejoined them I expected to hand my revolver to Jael for her to reload and shoot. That's when the range officer told her to fire when ready.

Jael spun around quickly into a perfect stance while drawing a large caliber pistol from underneath her shawl. Until that time I had no idea that she carried a gun. She emptied her magazine into the target, did what I assume they'd call a tactical reload, finally slipping her gun back out of sight under her shawl.

The range officer had his stopwatch out again, and then looked at her target through a scope. He asked me if I wanted to look but I declined. I could see from the firing line that nearly all of the white squares had been hit.

In later months I accepted the range officer's challenge and did some firearms training. It would become a regular thing. There were a lot of reloading drills with the revolver, with and without speed loaders. If you think I'd have been better off shooting an automatic, there would have been endless drills of clearing jams and misfires, plus random inspections to check I had the slide properly cleaned and oiled. The man was brutal, but knew how to get results. I respected him a lot for that.

Ammunition was all provided, though I had to spend some time working at their facility where they reloaded brass and shotgun shells. The training, I got satisfaction out of improving my skills. Never thought there was anything more to it at the time.

....

Jael took another sip of her bourbon, and then kicked off her shoes.

"You've impressed some of the elders at the church," she said. I told her I hadn't met any of the elders. Well, it seemed that Dan, Isaiah, and the range officer were all church elders.

"Dan is pretty laid back," I said. "Informal. I'd think an elder would be, I don't know, different." Her only explanation was that Dan was also from the outside.

"From the outside. There's that term again. It's like the church has this double standard. If you're from the outside you live by a different set of rules, but what are those rules?" I asked, probably sounding a bit too harsh.

"It's just like you see. More freedom," her voice was soft, her eye contact strong, and she let her free hand trace down the front of my jeans. "But also, more responsibility."

Jael didn't explain any more, instead reaching down to pull off her tall socks. Her toenails were painted a bright slutty shade of red. Considering women of the church never wore any makeup or nail polish, I was surprised.

"I was feeling a little naughty earlier," she explained, slowly wiggling her short chubby toes. Now I'd heard of some guys having foot fetishes and always thought that was dumb, but at that moment I understood the appeal.

Jael set her glass down next to the kitchen sink, reached her hands behind her head, and started pulling hairpins out of the thick bun that she always wore. Giving a slow, rolling, toss of her head, the bun unfurled, no, it exploded into a thick full mane of lush dark brown hair that fell more than halfway down her back.

I couldn't help myself and reached out with both hands on either side of her face, to brush against it. My advance was welcomed, so I kissed her.

When Jael had dropped by unexpected, I thought there might be a chance of getting a blowjob before she would have to be on her way. Standing there, our arms around each other, both of us wearing mischievous smiles, it sensed that anything was possible.

Kissing her again, her tongue eagerly rubbed against mine. Maybe skillfully was a better term, after all, she was from the outside. Experienced and confident. Probably not a virgin. Jael removed her baggy dress and let it fall to the floor.