The Damsel in the Congregation: Part 5.
It's time for a leap of faith.
Based on a post by KikiKisses.
Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.
He pulled the box out of his pocket. He decided not to kneel, this
felt right. "Rosalie, you put this song in my heart. I never
knew I could love anybody, or be loved. I drowned in those big brown
eyes the minute I saw them, when you poured your soul into mine.
These last six weeks have been the happiest in my entire life, and
I'm only sorry it didn't happen sooner."
Rosalie dried her tears, but it didn't matter because more took
their place. "Ever since I first heard you play, it has been
well with my soul. You have taken away my sadness. And you are so
incredibly lovable, you sweet man. I want to listen to your music for
James opened the ring box, and Rosalie cried harder as he slipped
the delicate twinkling diamond on her tiny finger. "Will you
marry me, please?" She nodded, catching her breath, before
whispering "Yes. Of course." She looked at the ring, even
though she didn't even care what it looked like because all she
wanted was to be his. "It's so pretty," she whispered.
"I thought it was very sweet and unique. Just like you."
She kissed him. "Now, can we;" she jerked her head
towards the bedroom. He laughed and swooped her up. He wasn't
especially big or strong, but she was just the right size for him. He
carried her to the bed and she wiped her eyes once more, physical
feelings finally overtaking the emotional.
They kissed softly at first, befitting the occasion, but it didn't
take long before their standard after-work lust returned. Their
tongues went mad as he tried not to pop the buttons off her blouse or
tear the seams as he pushed it off her shoulders while she yanked at
his tie and untucked his shirt.
Their breath grew heavy and loud with the occasional grunt of
frustration as the metal zipper on her tweed skirt got stuck. She
couldn't unbutton his shirt fast enough, and her fingers forgot how
to undo his belt buckle. He had to look when he unfastened her
stockings, there was no way he could do it blind, although he had
learned how to reach behind and twist her bra fastener with one hand
so it snapped off quickly.
She pushed him onto his back and straddled him. She removed her
garter belt and threw it, then leaned down and pressed her tits
against his chest, kissing him. He used to be self-conscious about
his narrow shoulders, his lack of muscles, but she relished his body.
She sat up, her pony tail swinging, inviting him to touch her. He
couldn't decide on his favorite part of her body, but when she was
grinding on him while he looked up at her, it was hard not to choose
her tits, which fit in his hands as though they were made to measure.
Her nipples looked like little chocolate kisses, and tasted even
better. He squeezed her and played with her nipples, pulling her down
to him so they could drop into his mouth. He started pushing her
underwear off her hips, then flipped her over on her back, tugging
off her panties while she panted, unzipping his pants. He kicked them
off, then lifted her legs off the bed so he could nestle his face
He wasn't sure how they had figured this out, but once they did it
was heaven for both of them. He ran his lips over her hairy mound
before diving into her swollen, pink flesh that was already
incredibly wet with her luscious nectar, grabbing her hips as she
opened her knees and pressed her feet into the bed. Sometimes he
started slow, but they were so worked up he just dove in, finding her
hard little bud and licking it over and over as she writhed beneath
him, whispering encouragement in between whimpers and grunts.
He pushed his face into her, devouring her delicious moist flesh.
She let out a sound halfway between a cry and a moan as her body
lurched and her thighs clamped around his head. She set him free, and
as he started to lay on top of her she rolled him over again, pushing
herself down onto his erect cock with a satisfied groan.
His cock was average, and he had always worried it wouldn't please
a woman, which she lovingly told him was dumb. "I'm small, do
you think I want a huge one splitting me in half?" Whether she
was joyfully pumping her mouth on his cock or enjoying his energetic
thrusting, she always moaned "It's perfect! You fit perfectly!"
They had even figured out how to make her come during intercourse
when he was on top, which he had learned was a matter of skill, not
size. And it didn't work for everyone. But it did for them. They
couldn't believe how many ways you could have sex, and they were all
excellent, as far as they could tell.
She coaxed her orgasm out, a combination of grinding back and
forth, hitting the back just right, while pumping up and down that
she had perfected. She needed James to play with her tits, which he
was happy to oblige. Her nipples were sensitive, they had discovered
the first time, and he licked his fingers, then pinched, rolled,
flicked and rubbed the tips with his thumb.
Her moaning got louder and he felt that combination of joy that
came from the incredible intense pleasure of her engulfing him in her
warmth, pulling a climax from him the way a magician pulls a rope of
handkerchiefs, more and more and faster and faster until he exploded
in bliss, mixed with the look on her face that was almost like pain
as she convulsed and cried out before crashing on top of him.
They laid there, panting and gasping for a while, clutching each
other as they whispered a combination of post-coital pillow talk and
declarations of pure love. He held her, finally, kissing her face and
staring into her enormous brown eyes before she turned for him to
spoon her, and they laid with their bodies pressed together, his
"Do you want; a wedding?"
"What do you mean?" Rosalie asked.
"I; figured you'd want to get married as soon as possible.
But Reverend Russell started talking about music, and bridesmaids;
and I realized I have no idea how much planning goes into something
like that. I don't want to take a wedding away from you just because
I wasn't man enough to be more careful. I know most girls dream about
"I dream about you." Rosalie kissed the bicep her cheek
was resting on. "I just want to be with you. How soon can we get
"We can get married at the courthouse the same day we get the
license. But if you want Reverend Russell to marry us we can get
married Saturday afternoon. Is that enough time?"
"That's fine with me. I might go buy a dress. Not a wedding
dress, just something new. It would be nice to have music but I don't
really like the idea of you playing at your own wedding." She
laughed. "You'd have to keep standing up and walking and sitting
down; maybe you should do it. It would be a great story to tell the
"Kids;" he repeated softly, squeezing her and kissing
her cheek. "Let's just tell him two o'clock. Do you have anyone
"I'm not super close with any of the girls here. I would hate
to pick one over the other. Maybe we can just get Mrs. Russell to
"I wish Reverend Russell could just be my witness."
James sighed. "That's what I get for not making any friends. I
guess I'll think of something."
When James arrived at the church on Saturday, he was surprised to
see an unfamiliar woman sitting at his place at the organ. She had
white hair with the faintest touch of bluing, a kindly face and wore
a pink print dress. She looked like an Easter egg. "I'm Mrs.
Minkie, from First Baptist up the road. Well, Only Baptist" she
chuckled. "Reverend Russell said you were needing an organist
for today and I told him I'd be pleased as punch to help out.
Congratulations, son. She sure is a lovely little gal and I know
Tears sprang into James's eyes as he shook her hand. Rosalie had
certainly brought out his emotional side. He managed to blink them
away and thanked her profusely.
"Do you have any requests?" The ceremony wouldn't start
for at least a half an hour, and James lived close. "Let me just
run home, I'll only be a few minutes. I didn't know you would be
here." James bolted out the door and came back with some sheet
music, which he thrust into Mrs. Minkie's hands. "Do you think
you could play this when she comes down the aisle?"
Mrs. Minkie's eyes twinkled as she looked it over. "I think
so. Do you mind if I practice a bit?"
Mrs. Russell was zipping Rosalie up in the woman's restroom. The
bride had found an emerald green taffeta dress with white fur collar
and cuffs at Fielder's Department Store; on discount, since it was
after Christmas. She then went to the bridal shop and asked if she
could purchase a simple veil, just the veil. She found one with a
white fur band, and they talked her into a pair of white pumps,
trimmed with little fur pom-poms, to go with it. Rosalie looked
striking in green, with her dark hair and big brown eyes. She didn't
want to make a big fuss with her hair but agreed to have it styled so
her natural wave would have more curls as it hit her shoulders.
James had bought her a small nosegay of white roses, which she
held on top of a small, white Bible Mrs. Russell had given her. She
was touching up her red lipstick when she heard the organ playing a
familiar song she couldn't quite place. She had met Mrs. Minkie
earlier, and was happy they would have some music. She didn't want to
say anything to James, but in her heart she did hope they would have
someone play. It was his playing that made her fall in love with him,
and there would be a big hole in the ceremony if there wasn't any
At two o'clock Mrs. Russell touched Rosalie's shoulder and told
her it was time. She looked the bride over and felt a tear in her own
eye. Rosalie was such a little slip of a thing, she looked so
radiantly happy and beautiful. She shook her head thinking of James.
Rosalie had changed him. No, she had brought out of him what was
already there. That's what it was. A man who played the way he did
had to be burning on the inside. Rosalie cracked that asbestos
Rosalie slowly walked down the aisle. Reverend Russell stood at
the front, with James at his left. He had bought a new suit, with a
beautiful green tie from Rosalie. Mr. Lipscomb, the caretaker, stood
next to James, as his witness. Mrs. Minkie brought her grandson
Ronnie along to take pictures; he was on the yearbook staff at his
high school. There were no other guests.
That song; she had heard it playing through the doors; and now it
accompanied her as she walked into the sanctuary. Suddenly, she
realized. It was "Rosalie." Played on the organ, instead of
the piano, and played by a woman who could read the notes, but could
never interpret it as skillfully or soulfully as the man in love who
wrote it. But it was still the prettiest song she had ever heard. Her
big, brown eyes filled with tears, and she reached inside the little
white bible for the handkerchief she had tucked there.
She reached the front, and James took her hand. They recited their
simple vows, echoing Reverend Russell's words, and before they knew
it he had pronounced them man and wife, James had kissed his
brown-eyed bride, and they were walking back down the aisle. Mrs.
Minkie played "It is Well With My Soul," the hymn James
played the day Rosalie knew she loved him. She looked over at him,
and her eyes overflowed, her tears flowed into his heart and
threatened to spill out of his own eyes.
Mrs. Russell had fixed a white layer cake with a few piped on
roses, and they had cleared the back room for a small reception.
Reverend Russell sat down across from the couple, who were trying to
show enthusiasm for the cake and the kindness they were being shown,
but it couldn't outshine their passion for each other.
"So, what are you planning on doing next?" asked
Reverend Russell. James almost spit out his cake, and Rosalie blushed
crimson. "I mean, did you decide where to live? And if you'll
keep working, Rosalie?" James swallowed his mouthful of cake.
"Oh." Rosalie squeezed his hand and answered, "We've
decided to live at James's for now. It's much more convenient for
both of us. And I'll keep working as long as I'm able. But once the
baby comes, my hands will be full for a long time."
Mrs. Russell sidled in next to her husband. "Would you like
more?" James had never had so many probing questions directed at
him in his entire life, and he shifted in his chair. They hadn't even
talked about that yet, and they certainly weren't going to discuss it
now. Then he noticed she was pointing towards the cake, and they
politely refused. "I'll wrap it up and send it home with you."
Reverend Russell smiled at his wife conspiratorially. "As you
know, my wife is the church secretary. It's not full time. But she's
been thinking about retiring. If you want, Rosalie, she could show
you around and when you feel able, you could take over her duties, if
you are interested. The wages are fair, and we have a nursery here.
You could bring the baby."
Mrs. Russell chimed in. "You know we don't have any children
of our own. I'd be happy to watch the little one whenever you need.
It would be a blessing to us."
James and Rosalie look at each other, and squeezed hands. "What
a kind offer," Rosalie whispered, her eyes brimming again.
"Thank you," said James. "We will talk it over, and
let you know." But they both knew the other would say yes.
Rosalie would even say it was an answer to prayer.
They stayed long enough to be polite, then took their coats and
walked out the door, forgetting the cake, forgetting everything but
each other. They decided not to go anywhere for a honeymoon, just
back to James's little house. The next two Sundays the choir would
sing acapella, mediocre, because he would not be there.
He carried her over the threshold, marveling, once again, at her
lithe little body, how she fit so perfectly in his arms. They kissed
deeply and tenderly at the door, and he carried her all the way to
the bedroom, setting her down softly.
"Will you play for me, James?" He was surprised by her
request, but went to the living room and began to play Clair de Lune
as she quietly removed her veil and shoes, and snuck off to the
bathroom. He heard her coming and switched to "Rosalie" as
she came up behind him, putting her hand on his shoulder. She wrapped
her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek, and massaged his back
as he finished playing, then stepped to the side so he could see her.
She wore a white negligee, sheer, with lace cleverly positioned as
a wink at modesty. He could see her chocolate drop nipples and her
dark hair peeking through the lace like a thin curtain, and he
couldn't decide what was swelling more, his heart or his cock. Love
was remarkable, that way.
With her hair tumbled over her shoulders she looked like an angel,
a goddess. He just stared at her, dumbfounded by his luck. His
blessing, she would say. "Do you like it?" she whispered,
her big, brown eyes wet with emotion. He couldn't speak, he just
pulled her to him, his face at her tit, kissing her hand, looking up
at her radiant face, then lifting her and carrying her again.
He couldn't believe it. A year ago she had disrupted his peace,
sitting in his sight line, those brown eyes rushing against the dam
of his heart, breaking him, flooding him. Not even two months ago,
they finally swam together in her ocean of happy tears. How could she
be his bride? A man who never even had a friend was suddenly,
stupefyingly, permanently entangled with a woman who defied
description, except in music.
Her head was on the pillow and he hovered over her, suddenly
clumsy and shy even though they had done this dozens of times. She
gently rubbed his cheek, staring into his kaleidoscope eyes that had
shifted to gray-green. "Kiss me, James," she whispered. The
tenderness of this moment was unbearable to both of them, and they
both cried, their hot tears mingling and flowing into their mouths.
She was never shy about taking charge, but tonight she just wanted
him to make love to her, gently and sweetly, allowing herself to be
swept away on the current he had swirled in her heart. He kissed
every bit of her face, smoothing her dark hair, moving softly down
her neck. There was no urgency. They had all night, all week, the
rest of their lives. He admired her body through the negligee,
sweeping his hands over the sheer fabric and gently squeezing her
"If I forgot to tell you before, you look gorgeous. Earlier
She kissed him. "You did, but I forgive you. You look rather
He had discarded his jacket in the living room, and she started to
"Finally, a little color. Whoever bought you this tie must
He chuckled, and winked at her.
"The suit was a nice surprise, too."
James realized his drab wardrobe no longer felt like him, and
decided to buy a new suit, not just for the wedding, but to celebrate
his new life. It was dark tweed, but had colorful threads running
through it that would pick up the hue of almost any tie, satisfying
his need for practicality and her preference for a little color. And
he had it tailored. Turned out in the right clothes and with a fresh
haircut, James was a handsome man.
"I thought a beautiful bride deserves a half-way presentable
He kissed her, breaking off long enough for her to lift his tie
over his head, and she slowly began to unbutton his shirt. There
wasn't much of hers to take off, so he decided to help out,
unbuckling his belt and sliding off his loafers, using his toes to
push down the top of his dress socks. He was still sitting on the bed
just gazing at her. She was trying to just let him lead, resisting
the urge to just pull him on top of her. Finally he pulled off his
shirt, kicked away his pants, and laid next to his bride.
He kissed her face and neck again, and kissed her tits over her
negligee, but decided enough was enough and sat her up just long
enough to lift it over her head. She was naked underneath, and he
took a few moments to just gaze at his lover's perfect form. There
were her sweet, perfect little tits, just right for her delicate
frame. They fit right in his hands.
The first time he touched them he couldn't believe the way they
felt. So soft, with a little bounce, and her perky little nipples
puckering against his hands. He hadn't really imagined it before,
figuring he'd never have the chance, so why torture himself with the
possibility? What a fool he was. But he was also glad, because
Rosalie's tits were perfect, and he didn't want to see or touch
Her belly was soft, and her navel was adorable. He loved tickling
it with his tongue when he made his way down her body, a little side
trip before the main event. Her patch of dark, curly hair always made
his groin surge, because of what it was hiding. He rubbed her thighs,
inside and out, and ran his hands down her cute little legs and
cupped her tiny feet before moving back up her body.
She closed her eyes and just enjoyed the way he lifted and
squeezed her tits. He was taking them in like it was the first time
he'd ever seen them. She was amused by the way men seemed hypnotized
at the glimpse of a pair, and delighted by the power she wielded with
them. James was already a quiet man, but the sight of her tits seemed
to pull all reason from him and paralyze his tongue, at least until
he bent his head down and began to lick and suck.
Everything he did to her was her favorite, but her sensitive
