Jenna enjoys sexuality without shame, in the church.
By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Jenna seduces the Vicar.
St Michael's parish church was a charming place of worship that dated
back to the 12th century. A quaint little church, the sort that one
could see in countless towns and villages across England. Within its
walls however, all was not well. Ill-feeling festered among some of the
male members of the church, the vicar included. But God, in his great
mercy and wisdom, saw fit to send a beautiful angel to this church, in
order to bring happiness.
And so, our story begins,
Reverend
Simon Morris was a vicar who hadn't gotten laid in a long time. Aged
forty, he'd been at St Michael's for nearly three years now. He prided
himself on the success he'd had in increasing the congregation of this
little church. The previous vicar, Reverend Smith, had died very
suddenly from a stroke back in 2019, leaving the community devastated.
Reverend Morris knew he had big boots to fill. So far, God had been with
him all the way. He'd steered the church through the Covid pandemic and
defied orders to close it during the lockdowns. This action had earned
him a lot of respect, not to mention he'd gained a few more loyal sheep
who'd deserted other churches.
There was just one area where God had been unable to help him - his
sexless marriage. He'd been married to Lucy for nearly ten years now and
they had a four year old son, Christopher. Unfortunately, it was
shortly after Christopher's birth that the avenue of carnal pleasure was
closed off to him. He'd tried everything to re-ignite the spark, but
nothing worked. Now Christopher had started primary school, Reverend
Morris had hoped that things would improve, but instead, he and Lucy
drifted further apart. He kept up the appearance that everything was
perfect, during the many social functions he had to hold at the
vicarage. Inside however, his frustration threatened to overwhelm him.
"O Lord God, who hast called thy servants to ventures of which we
cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils
unknown: Give us faith to go out with a good courage, not knowing
whither we go, but only that thy hand is leading us, and thy love
supporting us; to the glory of thy Name.
Reverend Morris said a quick prayer to himself as he shook hands with
the last of the members of the congregation. He let out a sigh of
relief. Another Sunday service had passed - with an increase in numbers.
He looked at his watch. He had a brief few minutes to head to the
vestry, change out of his cassock and surplice, and pop over to the
church hall for tea and biscuits. The usual chit chat with his faithful
The nosy old ladies, Josh, the new and nervous curate, Yulia the
Ukrainian refugee and her two young children, Amir and Majid, the
Iranian brothers who'd fled persecution in their homeland due to being
Christians, Debbie the single mother and Sunday school teacher, Tony the
reformed drug addict, Mr. and Mrs. Norris, the church's resident
do-gooders; a pair of boomers who made it their business to know more
about the C of E than the Archbishop of Canterbury,
Then there was Jenna Fox. Twenty, red haired and absolutely stunning. And too young for him.
He'd spotted her in the congregation earlier, but not on the way out. Which could only mean,
"Good morning Reverend!" Jenna said, bold as brass, sauntering out of
the toilets, where she'd obviously been waiting for the others to
"Oh, good morning Jenna," Reverend Morris replied, staring at her and
then quickly averting his eyes downwards. She was wearing attire that
was barely suitable for church - a low cut black top and black pleated
"I wore black today. For the Queen. Loved your sermon reflecting on her long reign. It was really touching."
"Thanks. Glad you liked it. It's been hard to write. So, are you heading over to the church hall? I'll be there shortly."
"Mmm, maybe later," she grinned. "Did you know Reverend, that you actually resemble Prince Edward a bit?"
Feeling a little uncomfortable at how close she was, he felt color
rise in his cheeks. "Uh, well thanks. I'll take that as a compliment! Do
excuse me Jenna, I just have to ditch these vestments, then I shall be
He hurried off to the vestry. In there, he looked at himself in the
mirror. He was an average-looking bloke, not the sort that a stunning
younger woman would lust after.
"Well at least I'm much younger than Prince Edward." He smiled. Suddenly, the door opened.
"You're not getting away from me this time Reverend," Jenna whispered, shutting the door behind her.
Before he could say anything, she'd cornered him. Glancing into his
pale blue eyes for a moment, she covered his lips with hers, feeling him
tense up as her arms reached round his back. After a few seconds, he
relaxed, as if he knew resistance of any kind was futile. Jenna could
feel the heat of his body through his cassock.
"I've wanted you for a long time Reverend," she murmured. "Ever since
you taught me that Introduction to Christianity course six months ago."
"J-Jenna, this isn't appropriate. I, I am a married man!"
"Not a very happy one, I suspect. I can always tell." A shuddering
sigh escaped him as her lips brushed his again. Jenna broke the kiss.
"Is there any space in here to conduct unholy activities, Reverend?"
Powerless to resist this angel of sin, the smitten vicar grabbed her
slim hips and motioned her to straddle his lap. "Jenna," he mumbled,
rubbing one thumb over the outline of her hardened bra-less nipple
through her thin top. "It's, er, been a long time since I was in a
"Lucy and I have been leading separate, and sexless lives for years."
"I'm sorry to hear that. So let me bring you some salvation."
He leaned in to kiss the exposed skin of Jenna's neck; his lips
leaving a hot trail from just below her ear to the center of her throat
at the neck of her black top. Then he took the lower hem of the top and
pushed it up to bare her belly, and then her pert C-cup breasts. Leaning
her back, he took one nipple with his lips and she gasped. He was not
only willing, but rampant; as Jenna had suspected, it had been a long
time since this man had got laid.
Even with the cassock and surplice on, there was no disguising the
Reverend's raging erection. Jenna explored eagerly, desperately,
reaching under the cassock, feeling his hard erection through his
Lord Jesus, Jenna was trembling so much with excitement. She'd had a
clergy fetish for years and fantasized about seducing the vicar for such
a long time. Reverend Morris returned his attention to her breasts and
she was so wet she could almost feel herself dripping into her panties.
Without further ado, she unfastened his belt before reaching for his zipper. Reverend Morris attempted to remove his surplice.
"No, no, leave that on," Jenna said.
"As you wish." He mumbled holding up his cassock, almost unable to comprehend what was about to happen.
Jenna knelt in front of the vicar, pulled down the zipper of his
trousers, and exposed white boxer shorts - adorned with little Christian
"Oh wow. Where did you get those, Reverend?" Jenna grinned.
He blushed. "Um, a church event I attended in London. The gift shop was quite varied,”
"Umm." Jenna pulled down his trousers and boxers, freeing his heated cock.
She took his hot length in her hand, feeling it, and stroked it up and down as she licked and sucked at the tip.
"Oh dear God," Reverend Morris groaned.
As she groped his shaft, she realized just how wet with pre-cum it was.
"Ooh, Reverend you certainly have sinned," Jenna smiled. "Nice and
wet - just how I like it." She teasingly licked the head of his cock
before putting it in her mouth. She began to suck him off furiously, her
head bobbing up and down faster and faster, her tongue licking the
sensitive underside of his shaft.
"Oh, I am blessed!" He gasped.
Jenna licked every inch of his love pole, running her tongue cross
every vein, igniting every nerve ending. The vicar cried out in joy.
Then she withdrew and looked up at him.
In her throatiest, most sexy tone, she said, "Well Reverend, are you
just going to stand there, or come and tame your lost sheep?"
Like a bolt of lightning, Reverend Morris kissed Jenna's lips as if
they were the sweet fruit of Eden, and lifted her up. He pulled her
drenched lacy panties off. It had been too damn long since he'd had
pleasure so willingly offered to him like this. He parted her legs
quickly, and, with no further warning, plunged his holy rod deep into
her waiting cunt. He began to establish a fast-paced rhythm which soon
had them both moaning in pleasure.
"Ah hah!" Jenna gasped. "Oh, Reverend. Yes! Right there. Deeper. Deeper! God that feels amazing! Oh! Ah! Oh, Yes!"
Jenna was in a state of complete euphoria. She had dreamt about what
it would feel like to be fucked by a vicar, but never in her wildest
dreams did she ever think it would be this incredible. He was a skillful
lover, hitting the sensitive nerves within her tunnel, bringing her
ever closer to that heavenly pinnacle.
Reverend Morris began to quicken his thrusts and rammed his hard
staff deeper into her yearning vagina. He felt his climax coming; it was
an uncontrollable wave of ecstasy. Faster and faster he thrust, the
sound of colliding skin echoing throughout the vestry. Jenna kept on
riding the vicar until he blasted his cum into her like a fire hose.
Jenna looked at Reverend Morris, and for the first time in years, he looked truly satisfied.
"For what I hath received, I am truly thankful," he panted.
"Me too," Jenna replied, her insides filled with his thick cum.
In the afterglow of their sinful fun, they kissed each other softly,
caressing one another lovingly. Reverend Morris couldn't stop smiling.
So that was what he'd been missing out on. Dear God! He doubted that
Lucy could ever match Jenna's standards, even if she suddenly turned
"I suppose, we should head over to the church hall," Jenna said, idly fingering his clerical collar. "More tea Vicar?"
Jenna Plays the Organist’s Organ
Gordon Leesmith was not having a good day. Another Sunday, another
morning Eucharist at St. Michael's, where he dutifully played the organ
and directed the choir. It had all gone as planned, until the end of the
service when that damned busybody John Norris had felt the need to vent
"You played the wrong opening hymn, Gordon," John exclaimed, as the
congregation departed. "Great is Thy Faithfulness was selected, not Love
"That's not what the vicar told me," Gordon muttered, not looking at him. He loathed this odious pedant.
"Anyways I just thought I'd let you know. Patricia and I were a little confused."
"No change there then," Gordon replied, unable to restrain himself.
"Do you think maybe just for once you and wife might refrain from poking
your noses into every bloody thing?"
John was so taken aback, he couldn't speak for a moment. "Well
really! There's no need for language, Gordon. I was merely saying,”
"Don't come the innocent with me, you're the biggest shit-stirrer in
this church. I've seen the gossip you spread on Facebook. And I'll play
whatever bloody hymn I like, thank you very much."
"I wouldn't argue in a church."
"I'll argue anywhere as long as I'm in the right. Now bugger off!"
Thus suitably chastised, the subdued John left, and Gordon was left
to sort through his music sheets in peace. He adjusted his black robe
and continued grumbling to himself. He wasn't always as grumpy and
short-tempered as this. Years ago he'd been a jolly, fun-loving chap who
enjoyed joking with other members of the church.
That was before his divorce.
Gordon was fifty-five, and had been organist and choirmaster at St
Michael's for almost twenty years. Ten years ago, his wife Marjorie had
run off with a man young enough to be her son. She was fifty and her
lover was a twenty-five year old personal trainer. They'd met online.
Gordon's world had been knocked for six. He never imagined Marjorie
would cheat on him. They'd always been so happy, with a very active sex
Jenna had been quietly observing the little outburst with much
interest. After expressing an interest in joining the choir, Reverend
Morris had warned her that the organist had the "shortest of short
fuses." When she'd pressed him further, the vicar had revealed the
details of Gordon's marital problems and sworn her to secrecy.
Jenna licked her lips. She was aching for a romp with Reverend Morris
right now, but he'd been asked to conduct a service at another local
church this morning, and a female vicar had stood in for him. What was a
"Poor, miserable Gordon." Jenna mused. "I doubt he gets much action.
He needs cheering up." Looking at him, she thought him quite good
looking for an older man. He had a full head of silvery hair and unlike
Reverend Morris, was of a stocky build. On the occasions she'd seen him
minus his long black robe, he possessed quite a paunch. Jenna idly toyed
with a strand of her hair, considering her next move. Gordon was giving
"I wonder if the organist will let me play with his organ?"
Gordon was busy rifling through hymn books and didn't notice Jenna
saunter over at first. She cleared her throat and he glanced round.
"Uh. Can I help you with something?"
"Oh hello," Jenna replied, acting rather coy. "I, hope I haven't caught you at a bad time, Mr,”
"Gordon. Bad time? There's never a good time," he muttered, giving the usual gruff response. "Nothing personal."
"Well I just wanted to thank you, Gordon. You played my favorite hymn, Love Divine. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed it."
His attention captured, Gordon finally put down the books he was
fiddling with and sat on the organ stool, facing her. "You did?"
"I love anything by Charles Wesley. His hymns are amazing."
"Indeed they are. He wrote thousands during his lifetime."
Gordon certainly was hard to read. Jenna wondered if she was having
any effect on him at all. His dour expression didn't give anything away.
It looked like this chap was going to be quite a challenge.
"Every week I come to church and I hear you play these lovely old
hymns on this fine organ." Jenna continued. "I love hearing you play."
"I've had enough practice. I've been doing this for many years now."
Evidently, Gordon wasn't used to receiving any kind of compliments whatsoever.
Jenna walked closer. "You're so talented."
"Ah, well. That's, nice of you to say. What's your name?"
Her persistence seemed to be paying off, and the organist appeared to be getting a little flustered at her flattery.
"Do you play any musical instruments, Jenna?" Gordon replied.
He nodded. "Good, good. For work or just a hobby?"
"Oh purely as a hobby," she smiled, flicking her red hair. "I was
wondering, please could you play a bit of Charles Wesley for me?"
Gordon's stern face finally relaxed into a smile. "Why certainly. What would you like to hear?"
"Oh how about And Can It Be?"
He shuffled around on the stool. "Very well. I often practice a bit
after the morning service, when the others have left. I'm not one for
idle chatter in the church hall."
"Me neither," Jenna said, walking up to beside him, so close that her
cleavage was at his eye level. Gordon couldn't help but give a side
glance, and then quickly looked ahead.
The strains of the great Wesleyan hymn filled the church as Gordon's
fingers graced the mighty organ. Jenna hummed along, and then an idea
came into her head. Suddenly, Gordon stopped playing.
"I don't hear any singing, Jenna. How about you sing whilst I play?"
"Ok!" She grinned, and he resumed playing.
"And can it be, that I should gain - An int'rest in the Savior’s blood?"
Jenna deftly unfastened the first button on her white top.
"Died He for me, who caused His pain,For me, who Him to death pursued?"
Gordon happened to glance to his right again, and almost played a wrong note. Jenna continued singing.
"Amazing love! How can it be, That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?"
She unfastened another button. Gordon continued playing, and as the
chorus approached, the third and final button of her top was swiftly
"Amazing love! How can it be, That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?"
Gordon's eyes almost popped out of his head and he cleared his throat.
"Go on, play a second verse!" Jenna said.
He continued to play, but could feel his face burning. Jenna was
singing her heart out, and seemed to be blissfully unaware that she'd
suffered a wardrobe malfunction, she wasn't wearing a bra! Bloody hell,
what a beautiful pair of tits, Gordon was uncomfortably hot all at once.
He was no stranger to internet porn - after his divorce, porn was the
only thing he could turn to in order to get a bit of relief, not that it
really relieved him all that much, in fact it didn't turn him on at all
anymore, he'd become impotent. Suddenly, with the young and beautiful
Jenna inches away from him and, somewhat exposed, his dormant cock had
surged back into life and was now straining against his underpants and
"Just one more verse, Gordon! I'll give it my all."
He continued playing and she resumed singing, her pale, pert breasts jiggling, inches from his face.
"Oh dear God," Gordon thought to himself. What a situation to find oneself in. "Should I say something to her?"
"My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose, went forth, and followed Thee!"
Jenna pretended to lose her balance. "Whoops!" She said, toppling
over and putting her hand on Gordon's thigh. He jolted and played a note
that was so off-key, Les Dawson would've been impressed.
"Oh Gordon that was such fun! I love that hymn so much!"
An embarrassed Gordon quickly rose to his feet. "Um, I'm glad. Er,
would you excuse me a minute, Jenna? I need to visit the gents."
Jenna struggled to hold back a giggle as he hurried off to the
toilets. "He must be rock hard by now," she smirked. "Probably having a
wank. I'll give him a few minutes, then I'm going in there after him."
Gordon had to relieve himself more frequently these days, due to that
most troublesome of male organs - the prostate. Today however, it
wasn't an enlarged prostate stopping him from peeing, but a raging
boner. He couldn't remember the last time he'd got as hard as this.
Unfastening his belt and trousers, he slipped a hand inside his
underpants and pulled out his cock. He stroked himself and wondered what
to do. That Jenna - was she actually flirting with him?
That was ridiculous, she was young enough to be his daughter. What
woman in her right mind would want to flirt with a fat old git like him?
Still, how could she not have noticed her tits were hanging out like
that? It seemed so deliberate. That stunning, red-haired vixen! He
couldn't hide in the toilets forever. She might come in looking
