In 2 parts, based on the work of Bobbi R. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

My wife is a wonderful woman. We married when I was thirty-six and she was thirty-five. We’d both been through first marriages that had gone sour and I knew almost from the moment I met her that this one was going to be for the rest my life. My first marriage had been a disaster: I wanted kids but she didn’t; I was a romantic, she was more hard-headed; yet she was the one who went into fits of jealousy every time I so much as talked to another woman. The sex wasn’t that great either. It couldn’t last and we divorced after only five years.

Leah, on the other hand, was everything any man could want. But I won’t go into details. There’s nothing more boring than listening to a man listing his wife’s virtues. Let’s just say we laughed a lot. Oh, and the sex was amazing. Even after we’d been married a couple of years, we were still at it like rabbits, fucking at every opportunity. Even at the cinema, we’d be unable to keep our hands to ourselves. Halfway through the previews, I’d feel Leah’s hand drifting to my crotch and I’d slip my hand beneath her coat and try to get under her skirt without being seen. If our row was empty we’d sometimes manage to bring each other off. Even then, we’d rush home and dive into our bed to fuck for a couple of hours. She could keep me hard even after I’d come and she seemed to be permanently on heat. For those first couple of years we were pretty inventive too. Leah wanted to try out all the positions in the book; and a few that weren’t. Sometimes we’d end up giggling like a couple of schoolkids, but then lust would take over and soon we’d be fucking like crazy again.

Eventually, though, that phase passed and we settled into just doing what we liked instead of trying to rewrite the Kama Sutra every day. Leah particularly liked me to take her from behind, which always guaranteed an orgasm for her. That position was pretty good for me too, especially when she wanted me to fuck her in the ass, which she did on occasion. I never pushed her, but she knew I liked it. We never settled into a routine, but we certainly slowed down a bit. We both wanted to have kids, but we agreed we’d enjoy two or three years on our own first.

It didn’t quite work out that way, though, because after only a couple of years, her sister Rachel moved in. Rachel was 22 and had just finished college. She was a lot younger than Leah, almost a mistake by their parents, who hadn’t really planned on extending their family in their 40s. But when she arrived they were delighted, with the result she was spoilt rotten. It was amazing she turned out as level-headed as she did. Perhaps it was because she had such a good role model in her older sister, who she regarded almost as a third parent. Especially for the past 10 years, Leah was someone Rachel shared all her secrets with. Especially for the dating and romance advice. Rachel asked Leah all kinds of questions, and soon the two knew everything about each other.

Rachel’s college years ended with a crushing breakup. She’d given herself completely to a 3rd guy, who ended up dumping her right after commencement, then flew off to take an internship in Dubai.

Leah and I helped her move into our spare room and pretty soon we got used to having her around. She got a job at a local coffee shop and contributed what she could to the housekeeping. Leah and I had good jobs, so we didn’t push her. She had her own circle of friends; no permanent boyfriend though; and divided her time between them and us, even though we were both nearly forty by then. She didn’t seem to mind going out with us; she liked the same sort of films we did and enjoyed going out for meals, so long as we paid. What I’m trying to say is that we liked having her around. It was fun having a young person in the house. For one thing, it didn’t make us feel so old.

I know what you’re thinking, though. Didn’t it cramp our sex life? The short answer is no. We carried on pretty much as before. Okay, we were a bit more careful when and where we fucked. We made sure we knew Rachel was going to be out for at least an hour before we fucked on the kitchen table, but we certainly didn’t wait for her to be out of the house every time we wanted sex. If she was in her room and we fancied getting it on in front of the TV, we just closed the door. Rachel knew what we were doing, but she was polite enough not to burst in on us. We didn’t kid ourselves she didn’t know when we were fucking. Leah made enough noise; Rachel would have had to be deaf not to hear her.

It wasn’t like it was discussed either; well, not at first. We didn’t ask her permission, like, “Rachel, we’re just going for a fuck. Is that okay with you?” She was mature enough to know that two people in love have sex. She was no virgin, which we knew because she’d told Leah. Between the two girls her sex life wasn’t a secret. Sometimes I’d come into a room and they’d be giggling over something together. Often the object of their mirth would be some poor guy Rachel had been to bed with.

“I swear he thought foreplay was something to do with golf,” Rachel said once.

Leah said, “Poor you,” and they both laughed.

“You two must have amazing sex,” said Rachel, glancing at me.

“Why do you say that?” asked Leah.

“Come on,” laughed her sister. “I can hear you all over the house.”

“Sorry,” I said. “We’ll try and turn down the volume.”

Rachel wouldn’t have that. “Don’t on my account. It’s great knowing you’re still fucking. I feel quite jealous.”

That night when we were in our huge high-framed canopy bed, Leah wanted to fuck face-to-face. “I want to watch your face when you’re inside me,” she said.

“Okay,” I said. I love watching Leah’s ass twerk as she rides my cock. Our solid wood-frame canopy has inlaid mirrors, which sort of let us watch a porno of each other, while we fuck each other.

After she played with my cock for a while, and her cunt was slipping down onto my turgid shaft, we lay face to face and she looked me in the eye.

“Well?” I smiled. “What do you see?’

“A guy who’s got his cock just where he wants it to be,” she laughed.

“Right,” I agreed.

“Does it feel good?” she asked.

“You bet.” I grinned.

What do you see?” Leah asked as she saw my gaze diverted to the mirrored canopy.

“An awesome sexy ass twerking on my cock!”

“So what are you thinking about?” she smiled.

“Isn’t it obvious?’ I said.

“Tell me anyway.” She insisted

“You, of course,” I said, “and the feeling of your cunt round my cock.”

“Liar. You’re thinking of Rachel.”

It was such a preposterous idea, I actually laughed. “That is so untrue, it doesn’t even deserve an answer.”

She smiled a superior kind of smile. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“What, you can see little pictures of her in my eyeballs?’

“Almost.” She laughed. “Don’t be scared of admitting it. I’d be surprised if you weren’t thinking of her. She’s beautiful.”

She gave my cock a squeeze with her vaginal muscles and a jolt of pleasure ran through me.

 “I can’t think of anything when you do that.” I chuckled.

“Don’t change the subject,” she said. “I just want you to tell me the truth. Go on, admit you find her attractive.”

“Okay, she’s attractive,” I agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I’m thinking of her when I’m fucking you.”

“No, but you are,” she insisted. “You’re thinking of her firm young tits and imagining what her cunt feels like.”

Even though she was smiling, I still thought it better to keep denying it. Jealousy had been one of the reasons my first marriage had broken up and I wasn’t about to let the same thing happen with us.

“I am not,” I said, as simply and straightforwardly as I could. The trouble is, she was almost right. True, I hadn’t been thinking of Rachel when we’d first started fucking, but after Leah had brought her into the conversation, I couldn’t get the sight of her out of my head.

“She’s got a fantastic figure, hasn’t she?” She was teasing, I knew, and finding my discomfort highly amusing.

I said nothing. But the thought ran through my head that she must have guessed something about what I was thinking from the fact my cock was still as hard as a rock. “You sure seem to want me to start fantasizing about Rachel, don’t you?”

“Don’t look so worried, darling,” she said, taking my face in her hands and giving me a long passionate kiss. “I’m not saying you’d rather be fucking her instead of me. I know you love me and love fucking me. But I’ve seen how you look at her and I know you fancy her.”

I started to protest but she stopped me with another kiss.

“No, don’t deny it. You know I hate people lying. I mean it when I say I don’t mind. I really don’t. I know you find me beautiful too.”

“I do,” I said quickly. “You know I do.” For good measure I accompanied my words with a couple of slow thrusts of my cock.

“Oh, that feels lovely, darling,” she said, closing her eyes for a moment. “But don’t make me come yet. I want us to fuck for a long time.”

“Okay by me,” I said.

“So it really is alright that you fancy Rachel.” she repeated. “I’m not jealous of her. She’s my sister and I love her. I feel; I don’t know; somehow proud of the fact I’ve got a sister who is beautiful and who my husband fancies. Does that make sense?’

“If you say so,” I said.

“So just admit you’re thinking of her,” she smiled.

I looked hard at her and she looked back at me, half serious, half amused. I could only see honesty reflected back at me. “And then we can fuck?” I asked.

“Then we can fuck,” she said.

“And you really don’t mind if I fancy her?’

“I really don’t mind.”

“In fact, you’d quite like it if I did?’ I implored some more

“Yes,” she said. “I’d like it.”

“Okay,” I said. “I fancy her.”

“And you’re thinking of her,” she insisted.

“Well, it’s a bit difficult not to be thinking of her,” I laughed, “after you insisted that we talked so much about her. But I don’t wish I was fucking her instead of you.”

“I know,” she said. “Now you can fuck me. And you can think of her as much as you like, so long as you keep that cock good and hard and give me a good orgasm.”

So I fucked her for a long time. And after a while I turned her over and she went on her hands and knees and I fucked her from behind and I thought of my cock buried in her cunt and I thought of my cock buried in her sister’s cunt and somehow it made my thrusts more urgent or powerful or something and then Leah was moaning and crying out and coming and then I was coming into her warm delicious cunt and it was a really lovely loving fuck and we ended up hugging and saying how much we loved each other and kissing a lot until we fell asleep.

The next morning I went down to the kitchen and found Rachel eating a piece of toast. She grinned at me. “Hello, stud.”

Then she flung her arms round me and gave me a big kiss on the cheek.

“What was that for?” I asked, a bit stunned.

“I love you, brother-in-law,” she said.

“Er, yeah?’

“For making my sister so happy,” she added by way of explanation. “I’ve never seen her like this. She looks like the cat that got the cream; every minute of every day. You’re obviously a really special guy. I have close to 10 years of multiple failed relationships, and my sister won the love lottery.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, not really knowing how to reply. “I try.”

“I love being around you two. You make the world seem a better place.”

“That’s a lot to live up to,” I said. “Could it be just that we love each other?’

“It’s not just that. It’s that you’re so; into each other. The way you look at each other, it’s like you’re always wanting to fuck each other’s brains out.”

“That obvious, huh?” I said. I could feel myself blushing a bit.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I like it. It’s hot. Listening to Leah come last night I brought myself off twice.”

“Oh dear,” I said, blushing a bit deeper. “I hope you didn’t hear what we were talking about.”

“I didn’t have a glass pressed to the wall,” she laughed, “if that’s what you’re worried about.” She looked at her watch and headed for the door. “But don’t worry,” she added with a mischievous grin, “Leah tells me everything.” Then she was gone.

“So did you tell her?” I asked Leah a couple of nights later.

“Did I tell who what?” she asked, looking up from where she was licking my cock.

“Did you tell Rachel what we were talking about the other night? You know, about her and you and me?’

“Of course,” she said, “I tell her everything.”

“Oh great,” I said. “So now she thinks I fancy her.”

“Not more than you fancy me, I hope,” she said, pretending to be cross.

“Of course not,” I said quickly. “But that’s bad enough.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said, giving my cock a long kiss. “She was flattered. She said it was exciting to be fancied.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to look at her again.”

“Why not? It does wonders for her self-confidence knowing an older man thinks she’s hot.”

“I never said she’s hot.”

“Look, Jacob, she may act all mature and worldly-wise, but like all young girls, she worries about her looks, her personality, how she appears to other people, men especially. She’s still finding herself. And I think; and she agrees; that being around us; you especially; is giving her confidence, helping her to grow up and be herself.”

“Like parents?” I suggested, though I didn’t like the sound of that.

“No, not authority figures,” she said. “More like close friends. The closest friends you can imagine. People you trust absolutely. People you’d die for. People who are always there for you. That’s how she sees us. And that’s how I see her. And how I hope you do too.”

“I try,” I said. “But you’ve been there her whole life. I’m pretty late on the scene.”

“Don’t do yourself down,” she said, playfully hitting me. “She already worships you.”

“How do you know?

“Because she’s told me.”

That night it was my turn to make some noise, as I cried out when I came in her mouth. I offered to eat her, but she said she wanted to make herself come for a change, so I just held her and kissed her while she masturbated. She looked lovely when she came. I tried not to think of how Rachel might look when she masturbated.

Over the next few days and weeks I gradually got used to the idea of Rachel knowing that I fancied her. I got used to the knowing grins and winks from her; and from Leah; and the unexpected hugs and kisses. And if I expected any complaints from Leah that her sister was getting a bit too friendly, they never came. On the contrary she seemed to love how well we were all getting on. Often we’d all three end up in a kind of group hug, laughing like drains and swearing how much we loved each other.

By this time Rachel had a sort-of boyfriend, though they didn’t seem to behave much like a couple. They always went out in a crowd and he never came round to the house. Then one day I came home from work to find Leah and Rachel sitting on the sofa, Rachel in tears and in her sister’s arms.

“The boyfriend broke up with her,” said Leah.

“Idiot,” I said. “Obviously he has no taste in women.”

“Thank you,” sniffed Rachel.

“Make us a pot of tea, please, Jacob,” said Leah.

So we sat and drank tea and gradually Rachel stopped crying. Then I suggested we all go down the local pub and have a couple of beers.

“And we can criticize all the useless men we’ve known,” said Leah.

“And I’ll praise the two wonderful women,” I said. Which was a bit cheesy, but it made them laugh, so that was alright.

We got a bit drunk and Rachel had one or two wobbly moments, but mostly we just laughed a lot. At home Rachel hugged and kissed us both and announced she was going to bed. “Try not to make too much noise, you two,” she added with a sad smile. “You’ll only make me jealous.”

For the next two or three weeks Rachel was a bit subdued around the house. She didn’t go out much and when we asked her why, she said, “That lot bore me. They’re so immature. I’d rather be with you two.”

Though that was fine by me; what man wouldn’t like having two sexy women to come home to? it seemed to worry Leah a little.

“I think Rachel is missing something,” she said one night when I was kissing her cunt.

I looked up. “Like what?’

“Well, this for a start,” she said.

“Well,” I began, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

“You know she masturbates practically every night to make her go to sleep. “

“Does she?” The image of Rachel playing furiously with her cunt immediately put another inch on my cock.

“It’s not healthy. She needs a good fucking.”

“Well, she’s beautiful and sexy,” I said. “Men must be queuing up.”

“They probably are,” she agreed. “The problem is, since that idiot ditched her, she’s not interested.”

“Can’t you persuade her not all men are like him?’

“I’ve tried,” she said with a smile. “The trouble is the only example I can think of is you.”

“That is a problem,” I agreed, “given I’m in love with you.” I bent to her cunt and gently put my lips to her clit.

“Oh yes,” she sighed.

After a while she started moaning in the way she always did to tell me I was in the right spot. Her lips were swollen and slippery. She tasted delicious. Then she said, “Maybe you should fuck her.”

At first I didn’t think I could have heard her right. After all, I had my head between her thighs. “What?’

“You know exactly what to do to make a woman feel good about herself,” she said. Her face had the dreamy expression it wore when she knew she was going to come; maybe in a few minutes, maybe in half an hour, but definitely.

“Maybe you should fuck her.” Leah smiled.

“No,” I said firmly. “Don’t even joke about it.”

“Don’t talk,” she said. “Go back to what you were doing.”

Dutifully I returned to her cunt. After a minute she was softly moaning again. I tried to put her suggestion out of my mind. She was joking. She was just aroused from my sucking her clit. She was letting her cunt do the talking. She didn’t really mean it. Somehow the thought of me fucking her sister turned her on.

“Imagine how she’d feel if you were doing this to her,” she murmured. “She’d love you forever.”

Maybe she would, I thought, and maybe she wouldn’t. What’s certain is that I was married to Leah and I loved her and I wasn’t about to jeopardize that by fucking her sister. Even if it was at her suggestion.

Of course, once the idea was in my head I couldn’t get it out. Even as I was sucking Leah to a thundering orgasm, I imagined it was Rachel’s young cunt I was

Saint Michael’s hosts a town celebration.

By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Young Men of the Choir

Choir practice at St. Michael’s church was always a lively affair.  Yet, for the past year or so, it lacked a full spectrum  of harmony, because of the ailing older men who provided base and baritone fullness to many of the arrangements.

Recently, it had become a lot harder on Gordon’s ears due to a couple of new members. James and Jordan were two eager eighteen-years old, and the twin sons of Debbie the Sunday school teacher. They both hit puberty rather late, having had vocal changes occur at about their 16th birthday.  Last month Gordon overheard the two brothers shout cheers for their favorite Premier League team, while getting in their car, after Sunday morning service.

The husky, revelry, inspired Gordon to take on the challenge of refining the twins into a huge asset for the church choir. That enthusiasm diminished after their first choir practice.

“I’ve got my work cut out, getting that lot into shape ready to sing at the community coronation celebration, next month!” Gordon told Jenna at their weekly ‘organ practice.’ “They’re bloody awful. I know they’re Debbie’s boys and she’s chuffed they’re finally getting involved in church life, but I fear they’re tone deaf!”

“Oh dear, that’s no good,” Jenna said as she finished playing Crown Him with Many Crowns and then readied herself to play a much more interesting organ.

Jenna could feel Gordon rubbing his hardening cock against her arse. It was then that she had an idea.

"I think I should give those two boys some extra inspiration,” she smiled. “Maybe they’re not completely tone deaf. With a bit more instruction, their voices might be passable.”

“Hmm, maybe.” Gordon replied, his voice shaking with arousal. “They’re coming in tomorrow afternoon for extra instruction and vocal training. I’ve taught some pretty poor choirboys and choirgirls over the years. Some did vastly improve and go on to have terrific careers in music.”

Jenna switched off the organ and slid round on the stool. “Do you want me, Gordy?” She asked, darting her tongue between his lips. “Tell me how much, if you do,”

"Desperately!” He growled. “My God, you’re so fucking hot! Pardon my language, I forgot we’re in the church.”

“You say the loveliest things.”

Gordon was hornier than usual tonight. He’d recovered from a bad cold and was eager to make up for lost time. Adjusting the open-fronted black robe he always wore in church, he tried furiously to unbuckle his belt and unzip his trousers with one hand while feeling his way to unfasten Jenna’s blouse and bra with the other.

“Oh, organ daddy is eager tonight!” She cooed. “Swell to Great!” she added, referring to one of the organ stops, which in recent months had become a double entendre.

“I’ve already swelled,” Gordon sighed, as he feasted on her beautiful tits. “Oh Jenna, Daddy needs you so much.”

“Let me give you a hand, then.” She pulled out his thick cock and began stroking it.

His shaking hands were soon pulling her soaking wet panties to one side and he wasted no time in sinking his entire cock straight into her hot, wet cunt. When he was completely inside her, he started to slowly pump it in and out, making the strokes longer and faster, banging her back and arse against the organ’s manuals, until she was literally screaming with pleasure. Her cries echoed through the empty church.

“Oh my darling Jenna! Yes!” Gordon groaned. “You’re such a good girl! I love fucking your nice, ripe, young cunt! You’re going to make me cum hard! I’m going to fill your young body with so much cum! Ah!”

Gordon’s thick, hot load spurted fast, deep and hard into her.

“Ahh, that was lovely,” she whispered in his ear. “You always pull out all the stops!” Jenna gasped as they recovered from their intense orgasms. Once again, the organist had left her thoroughly entertained. She rested her head on his shoulder and he gently slipped his arms around her.

“Do you remember the first time we, did it?” Gordon replied, planting soft kisses on her forehead. “Such a long time ago, when you seduced me right here on this organ stool and I hopelessly surrendered to your charms?”

“Hee hee. How could I forget that? You were powerless to resist. And so shy at first,”

"Me? Shy?” Gordon spluttered. “I think not, I was just stunned.”

“You blushed when you came back from the gents and saw me sat here on the stool!”

“Organists don’t blush! We just, swell.” Gordon replied, though his cheeks were already turning several shades of red.

“Of course,” Jenna replied, running her fingers through his thick, silver hair.
“And let me fill in for you, tomorrow. I want those fellas to get a vision for how they can add to the choir.”

The next day, Jenna was in church alone, practicing a few pieces of music on the organ. Sensing the presence of someone, she stopped and peered over the top of the partition.

“Oh good. They’re here.”

“Good afternoon you two!” She announced, as James and Jordan headed down the aisle. The two blonde-haired lads looked surprised to see the vicar’s wife.

“Oh, Mrs. Morris,” Jordan exclaimed. “Is Gordon here? He asked us to meet him here for some extra choir practice.”

“Afraid Gordon’s needing me to fill in. Hope you’re not too disappointed.”

They both looked at each other. “As if! Gordon’s a bit,”

"Strict?” Jenna replied. “Yes he is, but he’s been organist and choirmaster for a long time and he takes his job very seriously. This coronation concert is really important for the church. The Mayor will be attending. So it’s important that we get those voices of yours up to scratch. I think a little bit of extra inspiration is needed.”

“Some parishioners heard the two of you chanting support for your favorite Premier League football team, a few weeks ago.  Is that true?”

“Manchester, all the way!” James beamed.

“Ah, great team!” Jenna affirmed. “So, do me a favor, please. Can you two repeat that chant you shouted in the car park?”

The guys repeated their team Busby Boys chant;

Hello, hello
We are the Busby Boys
Hello, hello
We are the Busby Boys
And if you are a City fan surrender or you’ll die
We all follow United

Jenna looked puzzled. “Fellas, I’m having a hard time believing that’s what they parishioners were treated to in the car park? Gordon said he heard a very masculine machismo boistering.  He heard passion, bravery, smack-talking cockiness. Let’s try again, but I’m going to join you, okay? And if either of you hear my voice overpowering your powerful masculine cheers, it is to your shame.”

Jordan began the Busby Boys chant again, and the twin baritones filled the high ceilings of the great sanctuary with the richest a-capella Jenna had ever heard since joining the church a year ago.

James and Jordan were breathing heavily, and feeling great affirmation of what they have the vocal power to do, in that place of worship.

“Bravo!” Jenna cheered, clapping her hands. This is the raw masculinity that our church needs in worship. Gordon can teach you technique and tone, but Manchester United is where you found your masculine identity. Can you bring that with you to practices and performances?”

“Uh, sure;” Jordan said.  James nodded.

Jenna slid herself off the organ stool in such a way as to ensure a flash of her panties. She had put on one of her favorite short black dresses, which was hardly suitable attire for church. She’d borrowed Gordon’s black robe. It was unzipped in front, but too big for her and kept slipping off her shoulders.

“This thing’s not my size at all,” she muttered. “Best left for Gordon.” She removed it, and sensed the two lads eyeing her up as she draped it over a pew. She was wearing a sleeveless black dress that clung in all the right places.

Jordan gave a cough. “Um, Mrs. Morris,”

"Jenna, please. No need to be so formal. You’re not at school now, are you? In fact I shouldn’t be calling you choirboys at all, seeing as you’ve just turned eighteen. I think choirmen would be more suitable, yes?”

“Yeah!” They both gave nervous grins.

“Well I’m a woman,” Jenna explained. “I can tell you, the good women of the church really want the men to be men. Good men, virtuous, but men. Please promise me you’ll continue to be the men God created you to be? And you’re a perfectly matched pair of baritones. You have no idea how incredible your resonance can be, if you refine your craft.”

“Okay, we’ll just have an hour going over the pieces that Gordon mentioned. Nothing too intense. How does that sound?”

“Great, yeah.” James said with new enthusiasm.

“James, is it true that you want to be an organist some day?”

“That’s right. I start uni in September.”

“Let’s get the sheet music Gordon assigned for this week,” Jenna turned away and fiddled with some music books on the shelf at the side of the organ, bending at the waist and swaying a bit more than she needed to.

“She is well fit!” Jordan whispered to his brother.

“Wish she’d take over from Gordon permanently! Yeah. I’d do her.” James boasted.

Jenna smirked to herself, then stood back up and faced James; “My my, aren’t you eager?”

James froze. Shit, she overheard! “To sing? Oh sure, we wanna get this right.” He awkwardly scratched the side of his head.

She walked  a couple steps over to him, and carelessly dropped one of the music books on the floor. She squatted down in front of him. Gazing up, she could see the outline of a massive cock hardening behind the skinny jeans he was wearing.

“Oh, not just to sing!” Jenna said, and slowly slid her hands up his thigh. James just stood there, stunned, not knowing what to do or say. Her fingers were soon tracing the outline of his big, thick, long cock through his jeans.

“Oh my, James!” Jenna said, “You are a big fella.”

Jordan gawped as the vicar’s wife continued caressing his brother’s thigh.

“So; who wants to go first?” Jenna looked to James, then over to Jordan.

“Umm,” they both mumbled.

“James,” Jenna said, massaging his cock through his jeans, “I think someone wants to come out and say hi, don’t you?”

“Uh, yes!” He gasped, blushing.

Jenna unfastened his jeans, and pulled them and his boxers down to his knees. She was pleasantly surprised. Definitely a cock worthy of an organist, or future organist! “You truly are an organist!”

She aimed his aching erection straight for her open mouth, and didn’t stop until she had thrust his whole shaft straight down her warm, wet throat.

“Whoa, holy shit!” James groaned as Jenna worked her amazing talented, tongue, swirling round and round his youthful cock. A few seconds of her incredible cock-skills was all he could take and he was soon pumping a whole load of hot cum straight down her lovely throat.

“Fuckin’ 'ell!”

Jenna greedily swallowed every drop, her unblinking eyes gazing up at him the whole time. She even kept on gently sucking long after she’d already sucked him completely dry.

“Delicious! What a good man you are, James. I’d say you hit all the right notes there and are perfectly tuned-up! Now how about your brother, pipe?”

Jordan didn’t hesitate, and soon had his jeans unzipped. Jenna wrapped her fingers around his aching cock. Like his brother, he was generously endowed, and quick to rise to the occasion, however his lack of experience would mean a swift conclusion. Nothing wrong with that, of course. They were young and eager. In time, they could be molded into excellent lovers.

Jenna thought about the time she seduced the nervous, virgin curate in the church hall’s storeroom. Thanks to her, Josh was now full of confidence and an expert in the bedroom, and he had recently got engaged.

Her hand was pumping Jordan’s nice, young cock good and hard.

“Oh God, fuck yes!”

She leaned in and licked the head of his cock a few times, before running her tongue up and down the length of it. Her lips kissed and sucked the tip of his cock as her tongue teased it a few times. It twitched uncontrollably. Jenna slid it into her mouth while looking intently into his eyes.

Jordan pressed his hips forward and was surprised to see her eagerly take the entire length of his member into her mouth. She grabbed his ass cheeks and pulled him tight. She sucked his shaft hard, making him yell with pleasure. She savored the taste of pre-cum.

“Oh Jenna! I’m gonna cum!”

The vicar’s wife began to suck him harder, her tongue sliding over and around his cock as her head as was pushed and pulled back and forth. She sucked Jordan’s cock for all it was worth, caressing his balls at the same time.

Oh dear God, then it came, what she was waiting for. Jordan’s cock erupted in a white creamy fountain; he couldn’t stop. He was groaning in ecstasy. Jenna swallowed every drop, gulping it down.

“Umm, tastes so good! Another yummy load. You really needed to unload, didn’t you?

Jordan’s eyes were now closed and he was breathing heavily.

Well, that gets you fully tuned-up, too. I guess we’re about done here,” Jenna said, standing up and planting a kiss on both their cheeks. “But, we’d better do a bit of singing as well. "I’ll give you a few minutes to, compose yourselves, then meet me at the piano. Then we’ll sing Onward Christian Soldiers! If you boys can sing as expertly as you shoot your cum, the coronation service will be a massive success!”

Polishing the Mayor’s Ceremonial Mace

It was Thursday morning and the coronation of King Charles III was by now, tantalizingly close. Over at St Michael’s vicarage however, all was not well.

“What do you mean we can’t have a street party outside the church this Sunday?” Reverend Morris exclaimed. “There was no problem last year when we had the Jubilee celebrations.”

The council official at the end of the line muttered something about it being the Mayor’s rule, and hung up.

“Bloody councils,” the vicar moaned. “Full of useless overpaid pen-pushers. The Mayor’s coming to visit our church later today too. I’ve a good mind to raise the issue with him face to face.”

Jenna raised an eyebrow. “I thought being a mayor was just a ceremonial role. How come he’s not letting the church hold a street party?”

“Some red tape about obstructing the King’s Highway or something.”

“But we’re holding a party to honor the new King! Surely rules can be waived just this once?”

“We could always pretend to be eco protesters,” Reverend Morris remarked.

Jenna uncrossed her legs and began thinking. “That Mayor needs some persuading. "I can’t have Simon’s plans ruined by pesky red tape,”

Mayor Harrison Buckingham rolled his eyes as he turned into the small car park of St Michael’s church hall.

"Right, time for another tedious hour shaking hands with old ladies and giving fake smiles,” the corpulent man muttered as he parked the Jaguar.

“Keys,” his wife replied.

“What, you’re not coming in with me?”

“Not a chance. You can do this all by yourself, darling. I’m off to the Trafford Centre for a spot of retail therapy.”

“But, but, Pauline, you’re the Mayoress! And how am I going to get home?”

“And you’re the Mayor dear. A small church like this only needs one of us. Our house is five minutes from this church. You could either phone a taxi or do something really daring, such as walk home. Keys.”

He grumbled to himself but did as she asked.

“Ah, he’s here,” Reverend Morris said. Jenna observed the approaching man carefully. Aged about sixty, overweight, and with greying hair that was dominated by a large and very obvious toupee. His gold mayoral chains glinted in the late spring sunshine.

“Oh, he’s a chonky lad.” Jenna chuckled.

“From what I’ve heard, he’s dishonest and drinks a lot.” Reverend Morris whispered. “His smile is as fake as that hairpiece he’s wearing. Norman Winstanley knows him from the Men’s Fellowship meetings, and said he’s made a fool of himself several times.”

“Perfect qualities for someone working on the council then,” Jenna smirked.

“By the way, I heard Norman has moved in with Gladys Wilcox and become her lodger.”

“There’s something kinky going on between those two, I’m certain of it.” Jenna said.

“What? As if. She’s in her eighties!” The vicar gasped.

“Just because there’s snow on the roof, doesn’t mean the fire’s gone out!” Jenna replied. “Although Gladys once confessed to me that she had a bit of a fancy for Gordon. I guess Norman’s her second choice as he was willing to do whatever she asked of him.”

Reverend Morris’ eyes widened. “I’m sure he only helps her with D I Y projects and her shopping.”

“Well I still think there’s more to it. Mark my words. I don’t think Gladys is the prim old widow you think she is!”

Reverend Morris fiddled with his surplice. “Ah, good afternoon Mayor!”

“Hello there, Vicar!” He shook hands. “Oh and who is this lovely lady? Your daughter I presume?”

“No, my wife, Jenna.”

“Ah, my bad. Dearie me, either you’re his second wife or you’ve got a bloody good plastic surgeon! Ha ha ha!”

Reverend Morris cringed. “Jenna is my second wife. Lucy and I divorced a year ago.

"Oh I see. Well don’t blame you there, Reverend. Wish I could do the same but She Who Must Be Obeyed won’t let me. Ha ha ha!”

“Where is the Mayoress?” Jenna interrupted.

“Afraid she’s, tested positive for Covid,” the Mayor lied, hoping that they hadn’t noticed his wife driving away.

“Oh what a shame,” Jenna replied. “So you’re all alone? Never mind, I will be glad to show you round our beautiful church.”

“Can’t stand the bloke,” Reverend Morris whispered to his wife as they entered the church. “There’s tactless and then