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A Series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
It's been a while, but now we return to our good friends at Saint Michael's CE church;
"Dear Brothers & Sisters," Reverend Simon Morris stood in the pulpit and began his sermon.
"Well first of all, special thanks to Gordon for that fine voluntary and hymn, and to My wife’s cousin, Miya, for playing the Gloria. We have an organist and an organist-in-training! As I'm sure you're aware, my wife Jenna, has kindly agreed to stand in for Raymond Wilson, the organist at Oakwood Road Methodist Church, who is recovering from surgery.
Also as you may have noticed, we are joined by Reverend Horatius Fletcher, an old friend who mentored me back when I was studying for my degree in theology many, many years ago!"
The man in question was sat behind the vicar, at the side of the organ and clad in full robes. He looked a lot older than he probably was. He smiled and nodded. "You were a good student; well, most of the time!"
A chorus of sniggers erupted from the assembled congregation.
"Did he step out of a Dickens novel?" someone whispered. "He's got the perfect name for one."
"From the look of him, he was an old 'un when Queen Victoria were a mere slip of a girl!" came the witty reply.
The fella in the pew behind them added; "Aye, he listened to one too many sermons. That's what we'll look like by the end of this service."
"And now we turn to events in the Christian calendar.” Reverend Morris continued. “We've entered November, & the month of remembrance: All Saints, All Souls, and, of course, Remembrance Sunday. It is always necessary to remember important events which have gone before, because, as has been said, those who don't remember history are doomed to repeat it. This year we studied on Sundays, and in our Bible reflection group, the Book of Exodus;“
There was much coughing and shuffling of feet as the congregation braced themselves for another of the vicar's famously long and tedious sermons.
Over at the organ loft, Miya was thinking some less-than-holy ways of spicing up this dull part of the service.
"I was so nervous playing the Gloria," she whispered to Gordon, who was sat next to her on the organ stool. "My first time playing in front of the congregation."
In the four months she'd been practicing, Miya had learnt a lot, but there was still a heck of a long way to go.
"You were fantastic," Gordon replied, reassuring his much-younger girlfriend. "I knew you could do it."
"The next hymn;” Miya paused. “I'm not sure if;“
"Want me to play it?" Gordon offered her a break.
"If you don't mind."
"No worries." Gordon adjusted his music sheets. The next hymn was The King of Love My Shepherd Is, set to the tune of St Columba.
"Think I need to relax my fingers a little," Miya continued. "All that pressing down; I need something to squeeze. My palms have gone sweaty and hot." Her right hand slipped over to his thigh and squeezed it.
"Now lass," Gordon muttered. "Why do I get the feeling you're itching to play a different organ?"
She gave him that grin; the one that meant serious naughtiness. How he loved that grin.
Meanwhile, the vicar's sermon continued. "As St Paul wrote in Ephesians 2: 'Jesus is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility, His purpose was to create in himself one new humanity out of the two, thus making peace, and in one body to reconcile both of them to God through the cross.' The Cross of Christ makes peace possible. The Cross of Christ can make brothers out of enemies."
With one hand, Gordon pushed her closer and slid his tongue into her mouth. Miya could feel his hands trailing the skin of her arse, exploring under her skirt.
Her gasp was soft, but keen. Gordon's lip twitched in amusement.
She lead his fingers further into the wetness underneath her knickers.
"Oh, Gordy-pie, I want you in me;“ Miya moaned in delinquent need.
With an arched brow, the organist huskily whispered, "Oh yes? Which part of me do you reckon?" Miya giggled.
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A Series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
It's been a while, but now we return to our good friends at Saint Michael's CE church;
"Dear Brothers & Sisters," Reverend Simon Morris stood in the pulpit and began his sermon.
"Well first of all, special thanks to Gordon for that fine voluntary and hymn, and to My wife’s cousin, Miya, for playing the Gloria. We have an organist and an organist-in-training! As I'm sure you're aware, my wife Jenna, has kindly agreed to stand in for Raymond Wilson, the organist at Oakwood Road Methodist Church, who is recovering from surgery.
Also as you may have noticed, we are joined by Reverend Horatius Fletcher, an old friend who mentored me back when I was studying for my degree in theology many, many years ago!"
The man in question was sat behind the vicar, at the side of the organ and clad in full robes. He looked a lot older than he probably was. He smiled and nodded. "You were a good student; well, most of the time!"
A chorus of sniggers erupted from the assembled congregation.
"Did he step out of a Dickens novel?" someone whispered. "He's got the perfect name for one."
"From the look of him, he was an old 'un when Queen Victoria were a mere slip of a girl!" came the witty reply.
The fella in the pew behind them added; "Aye, he listened to one too many sermons. That's what we'll look like by the end of this service."
"And now we turn to events in the Christian calendar.” Reverend Morris continued. “We've entered November, & the month of remembrance: All Saints, All Souls, and, of course, Remembrance Sunday. It is always necessary to remember important events which have gone before, because, as has been said, those who don't remember history are doomed to repeat it. This year we studied on Sundays, and in our Bible reflection group, the Book of Exodus;“
There was much coughing and shuffling of feet as the congregation braced themselves for another of the vicar's famously long and tedious sermons.
Over at the organ loft, Miya was thinking some less-than-holy ways of spicing up this dull part of the service.
"I was so nervous playing the Gloria," she whispered to Gordon, who was sat next to her on the organ stool. "My first time playing in front of the congregation."
In the four months she'd been practicing, Miya had learnt a lot, but there was still a heck of a long way to go.
"You were fantastic," Gordon replied, reassuring his much-younger girlfriend. "I knew you could do it."
"The next hymn;” Miya paused. “I'm not sure if;“
"Want me to play it?" Gordon offered her a break.
"If you don't mind."
"No worries." Gordon adjusted his music sheets. The next hymn was The King of Love My Shepherd Is, set to the tune of St Columba.
"Think I need to relax my fingers a little," Miya continued. "All that pressing down; I need something to squeeze. My palms have gone sweaty and hot." Her right hand slipped over to his thigh and squeezed it.
"Now lass," Gordon muttered. "Why do I get the feeling you're itching to play a different organ?"
She gave him that grin; the one that meant serious naughtiness. How he loved that grin.
Meanwhile, the vicar's sermon continued. "As St Paul wrote in Ephesians 2: 'Jesus is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility, His purpose was to create in himself one new humanity out of the two, thus making peace, and in one body to reconcile both of them to God through the cross.' The Cross of Christ makes peace possible. The Cross of Christ can make brothers out of enemies."
With one hand, Gordon pushed her closer and slid his tongue into her mouth. Miya could feel his hands trailing the skin of her arse, exploring under her skirt.
Her gasp was soft, but keen. Gordon's lip twitched in amusement.
She lead his fingers further into the wetness underneath her knickers.
"Oh, Gordy-pie, I want you in me;“ Miya moaned in delinquent need.
With an arched brow, the organist huskily whispered, "Oh yes? Which part of me do you reckon?" Miya giggled.

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