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Jenna, the Vicar’s Wife: Part 3
Fellatio Rites for the Ghost of John Wesley
By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Jenna took a deep breath as she approached Oakwood Road Methodist Church.
"Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?" Reverend Morris asked.
She patted his shoulder. "I'll be fine Simon. You don't need to
worry. It's the ghost of John Wesley, not Jack the Ripper. This is
exciting! I hope he'll appear!"
"Right, well, I'll be sat in the car then. I hope you won't be too
long. Remember, just turn and run the moment you feel in any way
uncomfortable."
"Reverend Morris, I think you're scared!"
"No I'm not! I can't help being concerned for the safety of the woman I love can I? Aren't you a tiny bit nervous?"
"I'm as cool as spring water," Jenna replied. "I was reading all
about John Wesley last night. He was a true gentleman. I'm sure this
won't take long."
Reverend Morris nodded as he watched his wife enter the church. "Well
if anyone can fix this, Jenna can. I don't know what she said to the
Archbishop of Canterbury last week, but he changed his mind about the
wall plaque faster than the Government does U-turns. I wonder what she
said to him? Whatever it was, Justin Welby was impressed!"
He reclined in his car seat. "I was so lucky to meet Jenna. Of
course, it was God who delivered her to me. That fateful Sunday morning
in the vestry, oh."
Father Aiden was walking along the street. Many things were on his
mind. He had some important decisions to make about his future in the
priesthood. Briefly glancing up from his smartphone, his heart jumped as
he spotted Jenna entering the Methodist church across the road.
"Holy Mother, " he muttered. A rush of excitement swept over him as
he recalled the intimate encounter he'd enjoyed a few weeks ago. It was
that which had spurred him to think about his future. He quickly crossed
the road.
"Hello Father!"
The priest almost dropped his phone. Someone was shouting at him from a parked car.
"Oh, Reverend Morris. Hello there." Damn, no chance of a repeat
encounter, he thought. "I've just seen your wife going into the
Methodist church."
"Yes, I hope she won't be long. I'm just waiting for her."
"Are you alright? You look a bit anxious, if you don't mind me saying."
"It's a long story, Father. I think you'd better sit down in the
passenger seat and I'll tell you. You've not heard about what's been
going on in Oakwood Road church have you?"
The priest looked confused. "Nope. Tell me more!" He opened the car door and sat down. I could do to unburden myself too."
"Okay, well, this might sound a bit weird."
"I can handle anything weird," Father Aiden replied.
"It's about ghosts. As a Catholic, what are your thoughts on them and have you ever seen one?"
Father Aiden thought about his answer very carefully. "Hmm. In
theory, billions of ghosts potentially exist because billions of human
beings have "lost" their bodies through death. Strictly speaking, these
disembodied souls are not ghosts because they have never become
discernible to any living people. Only those few souls whose presence is
seen or felt by others are truly ghosts. And their existence is real."
"So you've seen one?"
"Yes. Two actually. Once in Ireland when I was a child and another
when I was based in Liverpool. I was called upon to rid a family's home
of a troubled spirit."
Reverend Morris looked relieved. "That's good to know."
"The Old Testament also has a few ghost stories. The most famous one
is in 1 Samuel 28:8 thru 20. Here the inspired writer tells how King Saul
met with the ghost of the prophet Samuel." Father Aiden replied. "Have
you seen a ghost?"
"Yes. And not just any ghost, but the ghost of John Wesley! He's
haunting the Methodist church. That's why I'm here. Jenna's gone in
there to try and help him return to, the other side."
"Oh I see, then she must, wait, what?" Father Aiden did a double take.
"Thanks for coming' along Mrs. Morris," Reverend Ewing said, shaking
Jenna's hand. "I know you probably think this whole thing is crazy."
"Not at all! And call me Jenna. I'm a true believer. If my husband
says that you and he saw John Wesley, then I know it's true. But why
does John want to see me of all people?"
"Your hubby mentioned that your grandma is a Methodist?"
"Uh yeah. Bit of a tenuous link. Like Sir Henry Barrington-Smythe's horse."
"Huh?"
"Oh, never mind. Figure of speech."
"You Brits and your little quirks!" Reverend Ewing laughed. "I'm still getting used to 'em!"
"You said John usually appears in the vestry?"
"Uh-huh. Can be anywhere in the church, but he seems to like the vestry best."
"Right, well go and wait in there and say a few prayers, and see if
he appears. I'm not sure I can do anything, but I'll try my best."
Jenna entered the vestry. Everything looked perfectly normal in there. She closed the door and looked around.
"It always comes back to the vestry," she smiled to herself as she recalled when she first got to know Reverend Morris.
Suddenly, the row of gowns on the rail began to swing on their hangers. The temperature dropped, and Jenna rubbed her arms.
"Are you there, John?" She called out.
"Yes."
She spun round. There was no sign of the spirit. "Hey, come on, show
yourself at least. It's no fun talking to the invisible man."
"My sincere apologies," John replied, and slowly faded into view. For
the first time, Jenna was taken aback. "My God, you really are John
Wesley, "
He nodded and bowed. "Bless ye, for am so honored you hath come here.
If I may be so bold to say, you be a lady of great beauty my dear."
"Very kind of you to say, Mr. Wesley." Jenna said. "Why are you back in the land of the living? Aren't you happy in Heaven?"
"Ah yes," he began. "Happier than mortals can ever imagine. But you
see, I feel compelled to return to this realm every All Hallow's Eve. I
like to re-visit the places where I worshipped back when I was alive.
And it was in this very place where this church now stands that I
preached to crowds back in the autumn of 1778."
"You've got a lot of places to visit in just one night," Jenna said.
"I read all about you. You traveled all over England spreading the Word
of the Lord. Plus you went to America, the colonies, when you were
younger."
"Indeed I did, yes. To my regret, I lingered a little too long here,
for I found myself unable to return to the afterlife. The sun had
started to rise, heralding All Saint's Day. Thus, I am trapped here in
this church until next All Hallow's Eve. Only a tremendous release of
positive energy could allow me to return before then."
"Oh dear. May I ask why out of all the people in the world, you
wanted to see me? What can I do? My gran is a Methodist. Is that the
reason?"
"No Miss Jenna. It was your aura that attracted me. It's very strong.
I believe God himself must've embodied you with some sort of innate
goodness that allows you to help people."
"You're making me sound like some kind of saint! I assure you I'm
just a regular human being. I'm not particularly gifted in anything,
although I do try to be a good person, "
John had a rather dreamy expression on his face. "You remind me so
much of Grace Murray, a lady I loved and lost, only you be far prettier
than her."
It was then that Jenna had an idea. A huge grin spread across her
face. She'd read all about John Wesley's life and how unlucky he'd been
in love. "A tremendous release of positive energy, you say? I think I
know something which may cause that!"
John put his hands together. "You do? Pray, do tell, my dear."
"You need to experience an orgasm. What could be more positive than that?"
He blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"Oh you know, " She tried to think of a period-appropriate phrase so he'd understand. "The end act of carnal relations?"
He blushed. "Oh. Miss Jenna I be a man of God. I don't see how, "
Jenna sank to her knees. "Only one way to find out, John!" She
paused. So he's a ghost. I've never pleasured a ghost before. Isn't he
composed of just gas? He's quite cute, for someone who died in 1791! I
wonder if,
She reached out to touch him, and expected her hand to pass right through his body, but it didn't. He jolted at her touch.
"Don't worry John. I've done this before, many times in fact. It's a
great honor to be able to do it to you. I'm sure this will help you."
The moment of first contact had arrived. Jenna let one hand gently
glide ever so slightly over John's thigh, encased in tight black
breeches. Reaching out with the other hand, she ran it over his crotch,
feeling an impressive bulge.
"Oh my! I feel strangely warmed yet again!" John sighed.
Jenna fumbled with the buttons on his breeches, being more used to
zippers. Something large and splendid lurked within. Either that or he
had a Bible stuffed down there. "My God!" she gasped, as the Methodist's
member was revealed. The short, slightly-built John Wesley was hung
like a horse!
"How on earth were you so unlucky in love?" Jenna exclaimed.
"Mostly the ladies deserted me long before I even reached the bedchamber," he mumbled.
"Well I'm not deserting you." She pledged.
Outside the vestry, Reverend Ewing paced back and forth, wondering what the strange groaning noises were all about.
"The hell is going' on in there?" She said out loud.
"Ah!" John sighed, his eyes closed in ecstasy. Thoroughly satisfied, he cried out in joy. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"
"Ah!
I'm free once more! You've freed me Jenna! I can't thank you enough! I
can return and be at peace!" He began to rise up into the air. "I hope
we shall meet again sometime! Farewell and God bless!"
Jenna stood up and wiped her lips. "Godspeed, John! Oh! Just one more
thing, next time you visit, can you bring your brother Charles along?"
Reverend Ewing was about to knock on the vestry door, when it suddenly opened.
"Oh! Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine. You can reopen your church. John's spirit is at peace once more."
"For sure? He's really gone? But how?"
"I just said a prayer for him. Told him how much his teaching
continues to inspire people to this day. That seemed to satisfy him and
he just faded away."
"Well thank you so much, Jenna," the reverend said, shaking her hand.
"I'm so glad it's all over. It was really stressing me out! and I'm so
happy that John is at peace in the Lord's kingdom again. Oh, what's that
on your clothing?"
Jenna looked down and was mortified at the huge globs of cum. "Oh
dear. It's, candle wax. I didn't realize it had spilled. I must get
going now, Reverend Ewing. Simon is waiting in the car and he'll be
getting worried."
"Of course. Thank you again, and give my regards to Simon!"
When she'd gone, Reverend Ewing looked round the vestry. "Hmm, strange. There are no candles in here."
The lecherous church warden meets his match.
After peace was restored to Oakwood Road Methodist Church, and the
spirit of John Wesley successfully liberated, Jenna and Reverend Morris
turned their attentions to this weekend's Remembrance Sunday service.
This was always a major event, and the people would be crammed into St.
Michael's like sardines.
"I've finally completed this special sermon," Reverend Morris said,
handing Jenna his iPad. "Have a read and tell me what you think. I
included your suggestions about the importance of teaching the younger
generation about those who died in wars. Also the bit about Winston
Churchill being a flawed figure. Good suggestion, that. As human beings
we are all flawed in some way."
"It looks fantastic. Let me grab a coffee and settle down to enjoy this!"
"I hope it won't come across as too boring. You know I always get
paranoid about my sermons. So many churchgoers dread a long sermon!"
"Your sermons are always fun and relevant, Simon, You're too hard on yourself."
The mild-mannered vicar smiled. "Aww, thanks! Oh and I hope Norman
Winstanley behaves himself this weekend. I had to have a quiet word with
him during the Wednesday morning service."
"The new churchwarden? What's he done wrong?"
"Well, as you know, he took over from dear old Albert who died last
month. He'd previously been at St. John's, but sadly, that church has
closed for good and is being demolished. Such a shame. It was a great
church back in the day."
"Very sad when a church dies. What are they building in its place?" Jenna asked.
"An Aldi supermarket. Anyways, about Norman. He's sixty-five and a
terrible lecher, to put it plainly. Some say he's Sid James and Benny
Hill cranked up to eleven. He didn't get nicknamed Carry On Norm for
nothing."
Jenna was immediately intrigued. How come I've never noticed this guy
before? She thought. "Ooh. So he likes to ogle young women does he?"
"Yes, but not just young! I've seen him staring at the legs of older
women too. Last Sunday, I caught him perving at Mrs. Wilcox when she was
doing the flower arranging. And she's about eighty! Though I admit, she
does have nice legs, for someone er, so mature."
"Naughty boy. At least he's not ageist." Jenna said. "He needs to get on OnlyFans."
Reverend Morris couldn't help but laugh. "You always try to see the
best in everyone! Well just looking is one thing, but Norman has built
up a bit of a reputation for being a qualified pincher of bottoms. I
won't tolerate that sort of behavior. It's completely unacceptable. I'm
surprised he's avoided getting into more trouble, to be honest."
"Is he married?"
"No, widowed. Took early retirement too. Has far too much time on his
hands. And we all know that the Devil makes work for idle hands, "
"So true," Jenna nodded. "He makes bottoms for idle hands to pinch. "I don't think I've seen Norman. What does he look like?"
"Well he wears glasses and he's the spitting image of Frank Carson."
Jenna blinked. "Who?"
"Heh, I keep forgetting the age gap between us. Frank was a Northern
Irish comedian. He's dead now. My dad was and still is a massive fan of
him. He used to go and see him on stage at Blackpool in the 1990s."
Reverend Morris looked up a picture of the comedian on his phone and
showed it to her.
"Ok. I'll keep an eye out for Norman this Sunday!"
"If he tries anything with you, tell me at once!"
"Oh don't worry. He wouldn't dare," Jenna replied, smirking to
herself, an idea already forming in her mind. Naughty Norman. I can't
have a churchwarden with wandering hands threatening Simon's church. I'd
better get my hands on him before he causes any more trouble!
As expected, the Sunday service was very well-attended. Jenna had
arrived early, as she wanted to sit in a specific place right in the
front pew. She chose to sit on the left side, in front of the organ.
She'd chosen this spot because it was semi-hidden, due to a convenient
pillar. More importantly, Norman the churchwarden would soon be standing
here, just a few feet away, ready to direct people when it was time to
take communion. For Remembrance Sunday, Jenna had chosen a smart, but
conservative black dress and a silk scarf featuring a poppy pattern. She
was wearing two paper poppy badges, and one of them was in a very
intimate place.
"I hope this isn't disrespectful to the war dead," she thought to
herself as she crossed her legs. "But it's necessary. This is for the
good of the church's reputation. Very helpful that these self-adhesive
poppy badges exist now. I just hope it doesn't drop off, "
Before long, Norman Winstanley appeared and Jenna recognized him at
once. Her husband's Frank Carson description had been spot on. The guy
looked just like him. A full head of white hair, glasses and bushy
eyebrows. A stocky build, with a beer gut. Norman looked very smart. He
was wearing a dark grey suit with white shirt and maroon tie. He had big
hairy hands. Jenna wondered if other parts of his body were hairy.
"Ah, that's him. Mr. Wandering Hands Winstanley," she said to
herself. She should've been repulsed by this randy old boomer, like most
women her age would be, but as usual, she found herself lusting after
him and getting wet.
"I wonder if he wears y-fronts like Gordon? He looks the type." Of
all the different types of underwear she'd seen men of this church
wearing, y-fronts and boxer shorts were her favorite.
Norman stood in his usual place, ready to direct the lost sheep, as
he termed the congregation, to the pews, and then out again, when called
for communion. St. Michael's had an efficient system whereby the
congregation, one pew at a time, went up for communion, walked in a
circle round the church and back to their seat. This system had been
introduced during the pandemic, but had proved so successful, it had
been kept on.
Suddenly, the strains of the organ interrupted the quietness of the
church, as Gordon began playing the opening hymn, O God Our Help in Ages
Past.
Everyone dutifully stood up, and it was then that Jenna caught
Norman's eye. She noticed him staring and winked at him. He winked back
at her. Immediately, she knew she had his full, undivided attention.
Who's that tasty little filly? Norman thought. I haven't seen her
before. Mind you, I've only been helping out here a week. Not many young
lasses in this church. She's a pretty one. Mmm, I'd like to goose her!
Look at him, undressing me with his eyes, Jenna smirked. Oh he's
horny all right. I think he needs a lot more than a butt cheek to pinch.
I bet his balls are as blue as a Smurf's arse.
The hymn finished, and everyone sat down, as Reverend Morris began the usual start of the morning Eucharist.
"A very blessed welcome to all who have joined us today, for this,
our special Remembrance Sunday service. We are gathered here today to
reflect on those who gave their lives in the service of this country. At
the same time, we reflect on those who are currently enduring the
horrors of war. The people of Ukraine, Syria and Afghanistan. Let us
pray, "
Jenna bowed her head. At the same time, she crossed her legs and slid
her dress up, exposing some creamy white thigh. Norman's eyes almost
popped out of his head. She was sure she heard him utter a noise, rather
like the whinny of a horse. At the same time, Gordon peered over the
top of the organ, waiting for his cue to start playing the Gloria in
Excelsis. His elevated position afforded him a perfect view of Jenna,
when he spotted her sitting right at the front. He assumed she'd chosen
to sit there for his benefit.
"Venus herself," he muttered, gazing at her flawless legs and
remembering the last time they'd been wrapped round his body at the
vicarage social. He felt his cock starting to throb. "God she makes me
feel glad that I was born a man!"
A cough brought him to his senses. Josh the curate was desperately trying to attract his attention as discreetly as possible.
"Oh, sorry!" Gordon whispered, fumbling with his music sheets. He started playing the Gloria.
Jenna was getting excited just thinking about flashing her white
panties. Her nipples were already erect and hard and she could feel that
familiar warm, moist sensation between her legs. Slowly, she slid her
dress up higher and uncrossed her legs, doing so in such a way that it
was impossible to avoid a panty flash. She looked at Norman and raised
an eyebrow. He let out an audible gasp and his face flushed a shade of
red that looked as if his blood pressure had reached stroke-inducing
levels. Fumbling in his pocket, he grabbed a handkerchief and wiped his
face. Jenna noticed how his forehead and upper lip were glistening with
sweat.
No-Nut November might be a thing, but not in my world, Jenna thought.
At this rate, poor Norman will have collapsed before I even get to
unzip him. He was looking at her again and she noticed his bulge in his
trousers that he tried covering with crossed hands. Communion was
rapidly approaching, and in the middle of the offertory hymn, Norman
suddenly rushed off to the gents. When he returned a few minutes later,
Jenna noticed his flies were unzipped. She wondered whether he'd done
this deliberately or forgotten to zip up after having a pee or a wank.
"So you want to play do you?" Jenna whispered and winked at him.
Norman was holding an order of service booklet, and deliberately
dropped it. As he squatted down to pick it up, the gap in his unzipped
trousers widened, allowing Jenna a glimpse of his underwear. She was
thrilled to have a peek at his pale blue y-fronts and the bulge
contained within.
"Very nice!" She mouthed to him and blew a discreet kiss.
It was time to take communion, and being sat at the front, Jenna had
to go first. Calmly, she rose from the pew and walked past the organ. As
she did, the poppy pinned to her dress fell out.
"Oh dear, she said, and bent down to pick it up. As she did, she
ensured her dress rose up, revealing a flash of her panties. However it
was Gordon who got the full eyeful. He leant over for a better look, and
clumsily knocked a load of music books off the shelf at the side of the
organ.
"Damn and blast it," he muttered, scrambling to pick them up.
Jenna took communion and walked round the church and down the side
aisle. As she approached her pew, Norman "helpfully" held out his hand
to direct her, and she took the opportunity to squeeze past him. As she
did, she felt a hand cup her right buttock and give a little pinch.
"You're a dirty old man, Mr. Winstanley," she said. "Luckily for you,
I happen to be a dirty young woman." Quick as a whip, she slid her hand
to his crotch and groped his bulge through his unzipped trousers.
"Ah, oh!" Norman jolted in surprise. Jenna sat down and smiled at him.
"I want to see more. Do you?"
His nostrils flared, and he quickly backed off, squirming with
arousal and bewilderment. Jenna wondered if she'd scared him off, but as
the organ music resumed and communion ended, she saw him grab the order
of service booklet again and hold it sideways against his crotch.
Wondering where this would lead, she was ready to play. It was much more
fun than her doing all the flashing. She raised her leg and slid a
finger across her panties, pulling the material to the side, giving him a
peek at her pubic hair.
Norman felt like he was going to cum in his underpants, if this
continued. His face was red and his breathing was shallow. He wondered
just how much longer he could hold on, but hold on he did. This cheeky
little filly was unlike any other woman he'd ever encountered. A wiser,
less lecherous man would've backed off long ago, in this age of Me Too,
mindful that he could be being led into a trap. But Norman was a
shameless, seasoned groper and letch, and he wasn't going to back down
now. Using the booklet to shield his crotch from other members of the
congregation, a swift movement of his left hand freed his cock, and the
top of it poked out from his blue underpants.
Not looking down at himself, not acknowledging that his erect dick
was visible, the churchwarden acted as if everything was normal. Jenna
couldn't stop staring at his cock. It was more ram rod than sham rod.
She licked her lips and made a gesture to him with a clenched fist
moving up and down.
What a delicious-looking cock he has! She was practically drooling
like a dog in heat, in the same way he was drooling at the sight of her
pubic bush. And speaking of which, she hiked up her dress and revealed
the front of her panties. Attached to them was another paper poppy.
Norman's jaw dropped.
At the same time, Gordon craned his neck to peer over the top of the organ again and got a grandstand view of Jenna's poppy.
"Holy shit!" He spluttered. He quickly sat down on the stool, but not before knocking his books over a second time.
Further along the front pew, sat four old ladies all in their nineties, notorious gossips of the church.
"I say Margaret, I think the organist is drunk. He's not quite
himself. He was dreadfully out of time when he played the Gloria!"
"Well really. It's disgraceful. On Remembrance Sunday of all days. Oh
my good gracious, Mavis! Look at that! The churchwarden's flies are
undone!"
Immediately, the four of them leant forward in unison to get a better look.
"Heaven's above, you can see his, concern! How shocking! Somebody should tell him!"
"Maud, it's times like this that I really envy the youth. They have those fancy telephones that take instant photos."
"The last time I saw a man in such a state was in 1943, and I'd just
turned eighteen. Those American G I blokes, such good times!"
Jenna couldn't wait any longer. The service wouldn't end for another
ten minutes. Removing the poppy from her panties, she adjusted her dress
and rose from the pew. "Join me in the gents," she whispered, and
pressed the poppy into Norman's hand. "Lest we forget!"
Norman just nodded, stunned. He glanced down at the poppy. My God,
what a precious object. He would treasure it forever. Carefully placing
it in his shirt pocket, he zipped up his trousers and discreetly made
his way to the toilets at the front of the church.
The gents toilets were empty, and Jenna made her way past the row of
urinals and into the end cubicle. Moments later, she heard the door open
and Norman entered. He nervously glanced round.
"Pist, in here!" Jenna said, ushering him inside. She locked the cubicle door and closed the toilet lid.
"Who are you?" Norman spluttered. "You're a cunning little vixen! I
want to take handfuls of you, you're amazing! You've got me well and
truly foxed!"
"My name is Jenna," she replied. "And you're Norman, yes? Our new churchwarden?"
He nodded.
"If you don't mind," she said looking up at him with lust-filled eyes, "I'd love to suck that hard cock of yours."
Norman looked like all his Christmases and birthdays had come at
once. "Oh Jenna, I'd love for you to suck me," he sighed. "I'd love to
cum in your mouth. I'd love to watch you swallow all of my thick cum!"
Jenna sat down on the toilet and unzipped his trousers, then
unbuckled his belt. Wanting full, unobstructed access to the
churchwarden's member, she pulled his trousers and y-fronts down to his
ankles. Norman said nothing, he simply stood there, watching her work
her magic. He never once wondered why such a young and attractive woman
would want to suck his cock so willingly. It had been years, decades
even, since a woman had wanted to pleasure him! He was actually getting a
blowjob from a stunning redhead, for free!"
"What a lovely cock you've got, Norman. I could see how big it was
when you gave me that cheeky little glimpse of it in the church service
earlier!" She wasn't lying. He did indeed have a nice plump shaft, with
big balls, and wiry white pubes.
"Some men are like fine wine, they get better with age!"
Without hesitation, she impaled her mouth on his shaft. Taking him
deep while stroking him, licking him, and sucking him. Norman put his
hand on the back of Jenna's head.
Jenna cupped his balls, feeling them throb and pulsate, she knew
precisely when he was about to cum. At the same time, she ran her other
hand up under his shirt, feeling his hairy paunch.
"That tickles!" Norman murmured, sighing and groaning.
Back in the church, the service had nearly ended, much to Gordon's
relief. He really needed a pee. Thanks to Jenna, he needed a wank too,
but there wasn't time. Whilst the vicar was reading out a lot of
notices, he had just enough time to pop to the gents, relieve himself
and head back to the organ to play the recessional hymn.
"Mmm," Jenna murmured, her mouth full of cock. Suddenly, Norman heard someone else enter the toilets.
"Jenna, someone's come in!" He whispered.
"Mmm," was all she could reply, and continued sucking him.
Gordon hurried to a urinal and unzipped his trousers. As he began to
pee, a loud groan came from the end cubicle. He ignored it and continued
relieving himself. The mystery bloke in the cubicle made several loud
grunts. Gordon glanced round. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "That poor
sod's got a bad case of constipation."
He finished, zipped up, washed his hands and hurried out of the toilets, wondering who the unfortunate man was.
"Oh, Oh fuck!" Norman groaned, as his climax neared. "Jenna! I'm going to give you a lovely, big creamy surprise!"
"Give it to me, Norman!" She felt his cock quiver and his balls
tightened in her hand and she got her first taste of his cum. Jet after
jet of his thick seed squirted from his cock into Jenna's eager mouth.
He took out his cock to allow her to swallow his load and, as she was
doing so, he stroked it and managed to squirt a few more sticky blasts
all over her face.
"Ah," Norman panted. "That was wonderful Jenna, I enjoyed that more
than anything. I hope it was as enjoyable for you as it was for me! Did
you like all my cum in that sweet mouth of yours?"
"Oh I loved that! Your cum tastes so good, Norman!" Jenna lowered her
head and planted a kiss on his cock and then on his sweaty, hairy
balls. Doing a dreadful attempt at a Northern Irish accent, she added,
"It's the way you tell 'em!"
"Eh?" Norman said.
"My poor attempt at a Frank Carson impression," she replied. "My husband said you resemble him."
"You, you're married?"
"Yes," Jenna said, standing up. "I'm the vicar's wife."
A look of horror appeared on Norman's face. "Oh my God, "
"Don't look so worried, Norman." She put her finger to his lips. "Our
little secret, yes? Of course, you need to behave yourself from now on.
A little birdy told me that you are quite liberal with those wandering
hands of yours. No more bum pinching and goosing of any other ladies
whilst you're in St. Michael's, is that understood?"
He nodded, panic in his eyes.
"Say it out loud, in God's name. Because God knows everything."
"In the name of God, I promise I'll keep my hands to myself," Norman said.
"That's my Norm," she replied, planting a kiss on his lips. "We'd
better get out of here. Other chaps will be coming in. You go first."
"R-right. Okay." Norman zipped up his trousers, fastened his belt,
composed himself and hurried out of the cubicle. He opened the door and
glanced round.
"There's no-one here. Quick, you dash into the ladies."
Jenna ran past him. As she did, she pinched his arse. "Until next time then," she giggled.
Norman breathed a sigh of relief and opened the main door that led
back into the church. The service had ended and people were starting to
file out of the pews. Norman wiped his forehead. His mind was spinning.
Not looking where he was going, he almost walked into Gordon, who'd seen
him leaving the toilets.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"No worries," Gordon replied. "Listen, there's a first aid kit and
other medicine in the vestry. I can get you some Dulcolax tablets."
Norman looked confused. "What?"
"No need to be embarrassed. All us older blokes get constipated from
time to time. I couldn't help but overhear you in the gents earlier, and
you seemed to be in bloody agony with your bowels!"
To be continued.
By Blacksheep, for Literotica.
View all episodes
By Steamy Stories
3.6
2525 ratings
Fellatio Rites for the Ghost of John Wesley
By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Jenna took a deep breath as she approached Oakwood Road Methodist Church.
"Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?" Reverend Morris asked.
She patted his shoulder. "I'll be fine Simon. You don't need to
worry. It's the ghost of John Wesley, not Jack the Ripper. This is
exciting! I hope he'll appear!"
"Right, well, I'll be sat in the car then. I hope you won't be too
long. Remember, just turn and run the moment you feel in any way
uncomfortable."
"Reverend Morris, I think you're scared!"
"No I'm not! I can't help being concerned for the safety of the woman I love can I? Aren't you a tiny bit nervous?"
"I'm as cool as spring water," Jenna replied. "I was reading all
about John Wesley last night. He was a true gentleman. I'm sure this
won't take long."
Reverend Morris nodded as he watched his wife enter the church. "Well
if anyone can fix this, Jenna can. I don't know what she said to the
Archbishop of Canterbury last week, but he changed his mind about the
wall plaque faster than the Government does U-turns. I wonder what she
said to him? Whatever it was, Justin Welby was impressed!"
He reclined in his car seat. "I was so lucky to meet Jenna. Of
course, it was God who delivered her to me. That fateful Sunday morning
in the vestry, oh."
Father Aiden was walking along the street. Many things were on his
mind. He had some important decisions to make about his future in the
priesthood. Briefly glancing up from his smartphone, his heart jumped as
he spotted Jenna entering the Methodist church across the road.
"Holy Mother, " he muttered. A rush of excitement swept over him as
he recalled the intimate encounter he'd enjoyed a few weeks ago. It was
that which had spurred him to think about his future. He quickly crossed
the road.
"Hello Father!"
The priest almost dropped his phone. Someone was shouting at him from a parked car.
"Oh, Reverend Morris. Hello there." Damn, no chance of a repeat
encounter, he thought. "I've just seen your wife going into the
Methodist church."
"Yes, I hope she won't be long. I'm just waiting for her."
"Are you alright? You look a bit anxious, if you don't mind me saying."
"It's a long story, Father. I think you'd better sit down in the
passenger seat and I'll tell you. You've not heard about what's been
going on in Oakwood Road church have you?"
The priest looked confused. "Nope. Tell me more!" He opened the car door and sat down. I could do to unburden myself too."
"Okay, well, this might sound a bit weird."
"I can handle anything weird," Father Aiden replied.
"It's about ghosts. As a Catholic, what are your thoughts on them and have you ever seen one?"
Father Aiden thought about his answer very carefully. "Hmm. In
theory, billions of ghosts potentially exist because billions of human
beings have "lost" their bodies through death. Strictly speaking, these
disembodied souls are not ghosts because they have never become
discernible to any living people. Only those few souls whose presence is
seen or felt by others are truly ghosts. And their existence is real."
"So you've seen one?"
"Yes. Two actually. Once in Ireland when I was a child and another
when I was based in Liverpool. I was called upon to rid a family's home
of a troubled spirit."
Reverend Morris looked relieved. "That's good to know."
"The Old Testament also has a few ghost stories. The most famous one
is in 1 Samuel 28:8 thru 20. Here the inspired writer tells how King Saul
met with the ghost of the prophet Samuel." Father Aiden replied. "Have
you seen a ghost?"
"Yes. And not just any ghost, but the ghost of John Wesley! He's
haunting the Methodist church. That's why I'm here. Jenna's gone in
there to try and help him return to, the other side."
"Oh I see, then she must, wait, what?" Father Aiden did a double take.
"Thanks for coming' along Mrs. Morris," Reverend Ewing said, shaking
Jenna's hand. "I know you probably think this whole thing is crazy."
"Not at all! And call me Jenna. I'm a true believer. If my husband
says that you and he saw John Wesley, then I know it's true. But why
does John want to see me of all people?"
"Your hubby mentioned that your grandma is a Methodist?"
"Uh yeah. Bit of a tenuous link. Like Sir Henry Barrington-Smythe's horse."
"Huh?"
"Oh, never mind. Figure of speech."
"You Brits and your little quirks!" Reverend Ewing laughed. "I'm still getting used to 'em!"
"You said John usually appears in the vestry?"
"Uh-huh. Can be anywhere in the church, but he seems to like the vestry best."
"Right, well go and wait in there and say a few prayers, and see if
he appears. I'm not sure I can do anything, but I'll try my best."
Jenna entered the vestry. Everything looked perfectly normal in there. She closed the door and looked around.
"It always comes back to the vestry," she smiled to herself as she recalled when she first got to know Reverend Morris.
Suddenly, the row of gowns on the rail began to swing on their hangers. The temperature dropped, and Jenna rubbed her arms.
"Are you there, John?" She called out.
"Yes."
She spun round. There was no sign of the spirit. "Hey, come on, show
yourself at least. It's no fun talking to the invisible man."
"My sincere apologies," John replied, and slowly faded into view. For
the first time, Jenna was taken aback. "My God, you really are John
Wesley, "
He nodded and bowed. "Bless ye, for am so honored you hath come here.
If I may be so bold to say, you be a lady of great beauty my dear."
"Very kind of you to say, Mr. Wesley." Jenna said. "Why are you back in the land of the living? Aren't you happy in Heaven?"
"Ah yes," he began. "Happier than mortals can ever imagine. But you
see, I feel compelled to return to this realm every All Hallow's Eve. I
like to re-visit the places where I worshipped back when I was alive.
And it was in this very place where this church now stands that I
preached to crowds back in the autumn of 1778."
"You've got a lot of places to visit in just one night," Jenna said.
"I read all about you. You traveled all over England spreading the Word
of the Lord. Plus you went to America, the colonies, when you were
younger."
"Indeed I did, yes. To my regret, I lingered a little too long here,
for I found myself unable to return to the afterlife. The sun had
started to rise, heralding All Saint's Day. Thus, I am trapped here in
this church until next All Hallow's Eve. Only a tremendous release of
positive energy could allow me to return before then."
"Oh dear. May I ask why out of all the people in the world, you
wanted to see me? What can I do? My gran is a Methodist. Is that the
reason?"
"No Miss Jenna. It was your aura that attracted me. It's very strong.
I believe God himself must've embodied you with some sort of innate
goodness that allows you to help people."
"You're making me sound like some kind of saint! I assure you I'm
just a regular human being. I'm not particularly gifted in anything,
although I do try to be a good person, "
John had a rather dreamy expression on his face. "You remind me so
much of Grace Murray, a lady I loved and lost, only you be far prettier
than her."
It was then that Jenna had an idea. A huge grin spread across her
face. She'd read all about John Wesley's life and how unlucky he'd been
in love. "A tremendous release of positive energy, you say? I think I
know something which may cause that!"
John put his hands together. "You do? Pray, do tell, my dear."
"You need to experience an orgasm. What could be more positive than that?"
He blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"Oh you know, " She tried to think of a period-appropriate phrase so he'd understand. "The end act of carnal relations?"
He blushed. "Oh. Miss Jenna I be a man of God. I don't see how, "
Jenna sank to her knees. "Only one way to find out, John!" She
paused. So he's a ghost. I've never pleasured a ghost before. Isn't he
composed of just gas? He's quite cute, for someone who died in 1791! I
wonder if,
She reached out to touch him, and expected her hand to pass right through his body, but it didn't. He jolted at her touch.
"Don't worry John. I've done this before, many times in fact. It's a
great honor to be able to do it to you. I'm sure this will help you."
The moment of first contact had arrived. Jenna let one hand gently
glide ever so slightly over John's thigh, encased in tight black
breeches. Reaching out with the other hand, she ran it over his crotch,
feeling an impressive bulge.
"Oh my! I feel strangely warmed yet again!" John sighed.
Jenna fumbled with the buttons on his breeches, being more used to
zippers. Something large and splendid lurked within. Either that or he
had a Bible stuffed down there. "My God!" she gasped, as the Methodist's
member was revealed. The short, slightly-built John Wesley was hung
like a horse!
"How on earth were you so unlucky in love?" Jenna exclaimed.
"Mostly the ladies deserted me long before I even reached the bedchamber," he mumbled.
"Well I'm not deserting you." She pledged.
Outside the vestry, Reverend Ewing paced back and forth, wondering what the strange groaning noises were all about.
"The hell is going' on in there?" She said out loud.
"Ah!" John sighed, his eyes closed in ecstasy. Thoroughly satisfied, he cried out in joy. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"
"Ah!
I'm free once more! You've freed me Jenna! I can't thank you enough! I
can return and be at peace!" He began to rise up into the air. "I hope
we shall meet again sometime! Farewell and God bless!"
Jenna stood up and wiped her lips. "Godspeed, John! Oh! Just one more
thing, next time you visit, can you bring your brother Charles along?"
Reverend Ewing was about to knock on the vestry door, when it suddenly opened.
"Oh! Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine. You can reopen your church. John's spirit is at peace once more."
"For sure? He's really gone? But how?"
"I just said a prayer for him. Told him how much his teaching
continues to inspire people to this day. That seemed to satisfy him and
he just faded away."
"Well thank you so much, Jenna," the reverend said, shaking her hand.
"I'm so glad it's all over. It was really stressing me out! and I'm so
happy that John is at peace in the Lord's kingdom again. Oh, what's that
on your clothing?"
Jenna looked down and was mortified at the huge globs of cum. "Oh
dear. It's, candle wax. I didn't realize it had spilled. I must get
going now, Reverend Ewing. Simon is waiting in the car and he'll be
getting worried."
"Of course. Thank you again, and give my regards to Simon!"
When she'd gone, Reverend Ewing looked round the vestry. "Hmm, strange. There are no candles in here."
The lecherous church warden meets his match.
After peace was restored to Oakwood Road Methodist Church, and the
spirit of John Wesley successfully liberated, Jenna and Reverend Morris
turned their attentions to this weekend's Remembrance Sunday service.
This was always a major event, and the people would be crammed into St.
Michael's like sardines.
"I've finally completed this special sermon," Reverend Morris said,
handing Jenna his iPad. "Have a read and tell me what you think. I
included your suggestions about the importance of teaching the younger
generation about those who died in wars. Also the bit about Winston
Churchill being a flawed figure. Good suggestion, that. As human beings
we are all flawed in some way."
"It looks fantastic. Let me grab a coffee and settle down to enjoy this!"
"I hope it won't come across as too boring. You know I always get
paranoid about my sermons. So many churchgoers dread a long sermon!"
"Your sermons are always fun and relevant, Simon, You're too hard on yourself."
The mild-mannered vicar smiled. "Aww, thanks! Oh and I hope Norman
Winstanley behaves himself this weekend. I had to have a quiet word with
him during the Wednesday morning service."
"The new churchwarden? What's he done wrong?"
"Well, as you know, he took over from dear old Albert who died last
month. He'd previously been at St. John's, but sadly, that church has
closed for good and is being demolished. Such a shame. It was a great
church back in the day."
"Very sad when a church dies. What are they building in its place?" Jenna asked.
"An Aldi supermarket. Anyways, about Norman. He's sixty-five and a
terrible lecher, to put it plainly. Some say he's Sid James and Benny
Hill cranked up to eleven. He didn't get nicknamed Carry On Norm for
nothing."
Jenna was immediately intrigued. How come I've never noticed this guy
before? She thought. "Ooh. So he likes to ogle young women does he?"
"Yes, but not just young! I've seen him staring at the legs of older
women too. Last Sunday, I caught him perving at Mrs. Wilcox when she was
doing the flower arranging. And she's about eighty! Though I admit, she
does have nice legs, for someone er, so mature."
"Naughty boy. At least he's not ageist." Jenna said. "He needs to get on OnlyFans."
Reverend Morris couldn't help but laugh. "You always try to see the
best in everyone! Well just looking is one thing, but Norman has built
up a bit of a reputation for being a qualified pincher of bottoms. I
won't tolerate that sort of behavior. It's completely unacceptable. I'm
surprised he's avoided getting into more trouble, to be honest."
"Is he married?"
"No, widowed. Took early retirement too. Has far too much time on his
hands. And we all know that the Devil makes work for idle hands, "
"So true," Jenna nodded. "He makes bottoms for idle hands to pinch. "I don't think I've seen Norman. What does he look like?"
"Well he wears glasses and he's the spitting image of Frank Carson."
Jenna blinked. "Who?"
"Heh, I keep forgetting the age gap between us. Frank was a Northern
Irish comedian. He's dead now. My dad was and still is a massive fan of
him. He used to go and see him on stage at Blackpool in the 1990s."
Reverend Morris looked up a picture of the comedian on his phone and
showed it to her.
"Ok. I'll keep an eye out for Norman this Sunday!"
"If he tries anything with you, tell me at once!"
"Oh don't worry. He wouldn't dare," Jenna replied, smirking to
herself, an idea already forming in her mind. Naughty Norman. I can't
have a churchwarden with wandering hands threatening Simon's church. I'd
better get my hands on him before he causes any more trouble!
As expected, the Sunday service was very well-attended. Jenna had
arrived early, as she wanted to sit in a specific place right in the
front pew. She chose to sit on the left side, in front of the organ.
She'd chosen this spot because it was semi-hidden, due to a convenient
pillar. More importantly, Norman the churchwarden would soon be standing
here, just a few feet away, ready to direct people when it was time to
take communion. For Remembrance Sunday, Jenna had chosen a smart, but
conservative black dress and a silk scarf featuring a poppy pattern. She
was wearing two paper poppy badges, and one of them was in a very
intimate place.
"I hope this isn't disrespectful to the war dead," she thought to
herself as she crossed her legs. "But it's necessary. This is for the
good of the church's reputation. Very helpful that these self-adhesive
poppy badges exist now. I just hope it doesn't drop off, "
Before long, Norman Winstanley appeared and Jenna recognized him at
once. Her husband's Frank Carson description had been spot on. The guy
looked just like him. A full head of white hair, glasses and bushy
eyebrows. A stocky build, with a beer gut. Norman looked very smart. He
was wearing a dark grey suit with white shirt and maroon tie. He had big
hairy hands. Jenna wondered if other parts of his body were hairy.
"Ah, that's him. Mr. Wandering Hands Winstanley," she said to
herself. She should've been repulsed by this randy old boomer, like most
women her age would be, but as usual, she found herself lusting after
him and getting wet.
"I wonder if he wears y-fronts like Gordon? He looks the type." Of
all the different types of underwear she'd seen men of this church
wearing, y-fronts and boxer shorts were her favorite.
Norman stood in his usual place, ready to direct the lost sheep, as
he termed the congregation, to the pews, and then out again, when called
for communion. St. Michael's had an efficient system whereby the
congregation, one pew at a time, went up for communion, walked in a
circle round the church and back to their seat. This system had been
introduced during the pandemic, but had proved so successful, it had
been kept on.
Suddenly, the strains of the organ interrupted the quietness of the
church, as Gordon began playing the opening hymn, O God Our Help in Ages
Past.
Everyone dutifully stood up, and it was then that Jenna caught
Norman's eye. She noticed him staring and winked at him. He winked back
at her. Immediately, she knew she had his full, undivided attention.
Who's that tasty little filly? Norman thought. I haven't seen her
before. Mind you, I've only been helping out here a week. Not many young
lasses in this church. She's a pretty one. Mmm, I'd like to goose her!
Look at him, undressing me with his eyes, Jenna smirked. Oh he's
horny all right. I think he needs a lot more than a butt cheek to pinch.
I bet his balls are as blue as a Smurf's arse.
The hymn finished, and everyone sat down, as Reverend Morris began the usual start of the morning Eucharist.
"A very blessed welcome to all who have joined us today, for this,
our special Remembrance Sunday service. We are gathered here today to
reflect on those who gave their lives in the service of this country. At
the same time, we reflect on those who are currently enduring the
horrors of war. The people of Ukraine, Syria and Afghanistan. Let us
pray, "
Jenna bowed her head. At the same time, she crossed her legs and slid
her dress up, exposing some creamy white thigh. Norman's eyes almost
popped out of his head. She was sure she heard him utter a noise, rather
like the whinny of a horse. At the same time, Gordon peered over the
top of the organ, waiting for his cue to start playing the Gloria in
Excelsis. His elevated position afforded him a perfect view of Jenna,
when he spotted her sitting right at the front. He assumed she'd chosen
to sit there for his benefit.
"Venus herself," he muttered, gazing at her flawless legs and
remembering the last time they'd been wrapped round his body at the
vicarage social. He felt his cock starting to throb. "God she makes me
feel glad that I was born a man!"
A cough brought him to his senses. Josh the curate was desperately trying to attract his attention as discreetly as possible.
"Oh, sorry!" Gordon whispered, fumbling with his music sheets. He started playing the Gloria.
Jenna was getting excited just thinking about flashing her white
panties. Her nipples were already erect and hard and she could feel that
familiar warm, moist sensation between her legs. Slowly, she slid her
dress up higher and uncrossed her legs, doing so in such a way that it
was impossible to avoid a panty flash. She looked at Norman and raised
an eyebrow. He let out an audible gasp and his face flushed a shade of
red that looked as if his blood pressure had reached stroke-inducing
levels. Fumbling in his pocket, he grabbed a handkerchief and wiped his
face. Jenna noticed how his forehead and upper lip were glistening with
sweat.
No-Nut November might be a thing, but not in my world, Jenna thought.
At this rate, poor Norman will have collapsed before I even get to
unzip him. He was looking at her again and she noticed his bulge in his
trousers that he tried covering with crossed hands. Communion was
rapidly approaching, and in the middle of the offertory hymn, Norman
suddenly rushed off to the gents. When he returned a few minutes later,
Jenna noticed his flies were unzipped. She wondered whether he'd done
this deliberately or forgotten to zip up after having a pee or a wank.
"So you want to play do you?" Jenna whispered and winked at him.
Norman was holding an order of service booklet, and deliberately
dropped it. As he squatted down to pick it up, the gap in his unzipped
trousers widened, allowing Jenna a glimpse of his underwear. She was
thrilled to have a peek at his pale blue y-fronts and the bulge
contained within.
"Very nice!" She mouthed to him and blew a discreet kiss.
It was time to take communion, and being sat at the front, Jenna had
to go first. Calmly, she rose from the pew and walked past the organ. As
she did, the poppy pinned to her dress fell out.
"Oh dear, she said, and bent down to pick it up. As she did, she
ensured her dress rose up, revealing a flash of her panties. However it
was Gordon who got the full eyeful. He leant over for a better look, and
clumsily knocked a load of music books off the shelf at the side of the
organ.
"Damn and blast it," he muttered, scrambling to pick them up.
Jenna took communion and walked round the church and down the side
aisle. As she approached her pew, Norman "helpfully" held out his hand
to direct her, and she took the opportunity to squeeze past him. As she
did, she felt a hand cup her right buttock and give a little pinch.
"You're a dirty old man, Mr. Winstanley," she said. "Luckily for you,
I happen to be a dirty young woman." Quick as a whip, she slid her hand
to his crotch and groped his bulge through his unzipped trousers.
"Ah, oh!" Norman jolted in surprise. Jenna sat down and smiled at him.
"I want to see more. Do you?"
His nostrils flared, and he quickly backed off, squirming with
arousal and bewilderment. Jenna wondered if she'd scared him off, but as
the organ music resumed and communion ended, she saw him grab the order
of service booklet again and hold it sideways against his crotch.
Wondering where this would lead, she was ready to play. It was much more
fun than her doing all the flashing. She raised her leg and slid a
finger across her panties, pulling the material to the side, giving him a
peek at her pubic hair.
Norman felt like he was going to cum in his underpants, if this
continued. His face was red and his breathing was shallow. He wondered
just how much longer he could hold on, but hold on he did. This cheeky
little filly was unlike any other woman he'd ever encountered. A wiser,
less lecherous man would've backed off long ago, in this age of Me Too,
mindful that he could be being led into a trap. But Norman was a
shameless, seasoned groper and letch, and he wasn't going to back down
now. Using the booklet to shield his crotch from other members of the
congregation, a swift movement of his left hand freed his cock, and the
top of it poked out from his blue underpants.
Not looking down at himself, not acknowledging that his erect dick
was visible, the churchwarden acted as if everything was normal. Jenna
couldn't stop staring at his cock. It was more ram rod than sham rod.
She licked her lips and made a gesture to him with a clenched fist
moving up and down.
What a delicious-looking cock he has! She was practically drooling
like a dog in heat, in the same way he was drooling at the sight of her
pubic bush. And speaking of which, she hiked up her dress and revealed
the front of her panties. Attached to them was another paper poppy.
Norman's jaw dropped.
At the same time, Gordon craned his neck to peer over the top of the organ again and got a grandstand view of Jenna's poppy.
"Holy shit!" He spluttered. He quickly sat down on the stool, but not before knocking his books over a second time.
Further along the front pew, sat four old ladies all in their nineties, notorious gossips of the church.
"I say Margaret, I think the organist is drunk. He's not quite
himself. He was dreadfully out of time when he played the Gloria!"
"Well really. It's disgraceful. On Remembrance Sunday of all days. Oh
my good gracious, Mavis! Look at that! The churchwarden's flies are
undone!"
Immediately, the four of them leant forward in unison to get a better look.
"Heaven's above, you can see his, concern! How shocking! Somebody should tell him!"
"Maud, it's times like this that I really envy the youth. They have those fancy telephones that take instant photos."
"The last time I saw a man in such a state was in 1943, and I'd just
turned eighteen. Those American G I blokes, such good times!"
Jenna couldn't wait any longer. The service wouldn't end for another
ten minutes. Removing the poppy from her panties, she adjusted her dress
and rose from the pew. "Join me in the gents," she whispered, and
pressed the poppy into Norman's hand. "Lest we forget!"
Norman just nodded, stunned. He glanced down at the poppy. My God,
what a precious object. He would treasure it forever. Carefully placing
it in his shirt pocket, he zipped up his trousers and discreetly made
his way to the toilets at the front of the church.
The gents toilets were empty, and Jenna made her way past the row of
urinals and into the end cubicle. Moments later, she heard the door open
and Norman entered. He nervously glanced round.
"Pist, in here!" Jenna said, ushering him inside. She locked the cubicle door and closed the toilet lid.
"Who are you?" Norman spluttered. "You're a cunning little vixen! I
want to take handfuls of you, you're amazing! You've got me well and
truly foxed!"
"My name is Jenna," she replied. "And you're Norman, yes? Our new churchwarden?"
He nodded.
"If you don't mind," she said looking up at him with lust-filled eyes, "I'd love to suck that hard cock of yours."
Norman looked like all his Christmases and birthdays had come at
once. "Oh Jenna, I'd love for you to suck me," he sighed. "I'd love to
cum in your mouth. I'd love to watch you swallow all of my thick cum!"
Jenna sat down on the toilet and unzipped his trousers, then
unbuckled his belt. Wanting full, unobstructed access to the
churchwarden's member, she pulled his trousers and y-fronts down to his
ankles. Norman said nothing, he simply stood there, watching her work
her magic. He never once wondered why such a young and attractive woman
would want to suck his cock so willingly. It had been years, decades
even, since a woman had wanted to pleasure him! He was actually getting a
blowjob from a stunning redhead, for free!"
"What a lovely cock you've got, Norman. I could see how big it was
when you gave me that cheeky little glimpse of it in the church service
earlier!" She wasn't lying. He did indeed have a nice plump shaft, with
big balls, and wiry white pubes.
"Some men are like fine wine, they get better with age!"
Without hesitation, she impaled her mouth on his shaft. Taking him
deep while stroking him, licking him, and sucking him. Norman put his
hand on the back of Jenna's head.
Jenna cupped his balls, feeling them throb and pulsate, she knew
precisely when he was about to cum. At the same time, she ran her other
hand up under his shirt, feeling his hairy paunch.
"That tickles!" Norman murmured, sighing and groaning.
Back in the church, the service had nearly ended, much to Gordon's
relief. He really needed a pee. Thanks to Jenna, he needed a wank too,
but there wasn't time. Whilst the vicar was reading out a lot of
notices, he had just enough time to pop to the gents, relieve himself
and head back to the organ to play the recessional hymn.
"Mmm," Jenna murmured, her mouth full of cock. Suddenly, Norman heard someone else enter the toilets.
"Jenna, someone's come in!" He whispered.
"Mmm," was all she could reply, and continued sucking him.
Gordon hurried to a urinal and unzipped his trousers. As he began to
pee, a loud groan came from the end cubicle. He ignored it and continued
relieving himself. The mystery bloke in the cubicle made several loud
grunts. Gordon glanced round. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "That poor
sod's got a bad case of constipation."
He finished, zipped up, washed his hands and hurried out of the toilets, wondering who the unfortunate man was.
"Oh, Oh fuck!" Norman groaned, as his climax neared. "Jenna! I'm going to give you a lovely, big creamy surprise!"
"Give it to me, Norman!" She felt his cock quiver and his balls
tightened in her hand and she got her first taste of his cum. Jet after
jet of his thick seed squirted from his cock into Jenna's eager mouth.
He took out his cock to allow her to swallow his load and, as she was
doing so, he stroked it and managed to squirt a few more sticky blasts
all over her face.
"Ah," Norman panted. "That was wonderful Jenna, I enjoyed that more
than anything. I hope it was as enjoyable for you as it was for me! Did
you like all my cum in that sweet mouth of yours?"
"Oh I loved that! Your cum tastes so good, Norman!" Jenna lowered her
head and planted a kiss on his cock and then on his sweaty, hairy
balls. Doing a dreadful attempt at a Northern Irish accent, she added,
"It's the way you tell 'em!"
"Eh?" Norman said.
"My poor attempt at a Frank Carson impression," she replied. "My husband said you resemble him."
"You, you're married?"
"Yes," Jenna said, standing up. "I'm the vicar's wife."
A look of horror appeared on Norman's face. "Oh my God, "
"Don't look so worried, Norman." She put her finger to his lips. "Our
little secret, yes? Of course, you need to behave yourself from now on.
A little birdy told me that you are quite liberal with those wandering
hands of yours. No more bum pinching and goosing of any other ladies
whilst you're in St. Michael's, is that understood?"
He nodded, panic in his eyes.
"Say it out loud, in God's name. Because God knows everything."
"In the name of God, I promise I'll keep my hands to myself," Norman said.
"That's my Norm," she replied, planting a kiss on his lips. "We'd
better get out of here. Other chaps will be coming in. You go first."
"R-right. Okay." Norman zipped up his trousers, fastened his belt,
composed himself and hurried out of the cubicle. He opened the door and
glanced round.
"There's no-one here. Quick, you dash into the ladies."
Jenna ran past him. As she did, she pinched his arse. "Until next time then," she giggled.
Norman breathed a sigh of relief and opened the main door that led
back into the church. The service had ended and people were starting to
file out of the pews. Norman wiped his forehead. His mind was spinning.
Not looking where he was going, he almost walked into Gordon, who'd seen
him leaving the toilets.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"No worries," Gordon replied. "Listen, there's a first aid kit and
other medicine in the vestry. I can get you some Dulcolax tablets."
Norman looked confused. "What?"
"No need to be embarrassed. All us older blokes get constipated from
time to time. I couldn't help but overhear you in the gents earlier, and
you seemed to be in bloody agony with your bowels!"
To be continued.
By Blacksheep, for Literotica.
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