Sinning in Church

"Would you please rise as we sing hymn number two hundred thirty two," the musical director said to the congregation. The nearly five hundred member church stood as many turned the pages of their song books. A moment later the director held his arms up and then a joyful sound filled the hall.

Sandra looked up at her father, Jerry, as he sang deeply. His voice was one she never tired of hearing. Singing hymns was her favorite part of services each week because of him. Watching him with adoration as he paid close attention to the director she felt warm in his presence. Returning her gaze to the song book her father held out for her she raised her voice as well.

On the second verse she noticed that her father was no longer singing. Placing her finger in the book, she moved it along to the word that they were on. After a about half a dozen words when he still had not heard his voice she turned to him. Her father was looking down, but not at the book. Following his gaze she looked down at her chest and suddenly understood what had taken his breath away.

Sandra was a full bodied woman, as her aunt liked to say. She was what some men called pleasantly plump. Her hips were full, her bottom wide and her stomach was rounded. Many of the girls her age were much thinner with very nice figures, so much so that she always felt a certain amount of self consciousness. But she never felt inadequate in the bust department. Her breasts were soft and pillowy. Definitely more than a handful, one boyfriend had remarked.

It was her chest that had captivated her father, of all people, in the middle of a church hymn. The dress she wore was tight about her bosom, as many of her clothes were, but there was a piece of fabric that covered her cleavage to give her the modesty church required. This white cloth that covered the gap between her breasts had fallen forward an inch; just enough so that if someone was looking directly down they could see her tits cradled in the white lace bra.

Sandra felt a blush creep across her face and spread quickly down into her chest where her nipples stiffened and began to ache pleasantly. The fact that her father's ogling had turned her on caused her blush to deepen even more. Surprised by her own reaction Sandra coughed to relieve the tension. Her father patted her on her back, looking down with concern on his face. She nodded that she was okay and then the song ended.

As everyone sat down Sandra grabbed her cardigan sweater off the pew and excused herself to the ladies room. She locked the stall door in the restroom as she set herself down on the toilet. Fanning her face she tried to calm herself but with each passing moment she kept recalling the look of lust on her father's face as he gazed at her body.

Gathering her flowing skirt Sandra tentatively slipped a hand under her dress and had to bite her tongue to suppress a moan finding that her panties were damp. Her other hand quickly rose to her left breast and tweaked her nipple hard through the bra. The wetness between her thighs was growing quickly.

Making a quick decision Sandra pulled the white bra straps off her shoulders and pulled her arms through the loops. She pressed the loose straps between the bra and her skin so they would not swing free. With a grunt she tore the white modesty fabric from the front of her dress and then pulled her bra down so that her nipples were no longer covered by the cups of the brassiere. She reversed the cardigan sweater so that it covered her chest instead of her back and stepped out of the stall.

When Sandra returned to her father the sermon was just beginning. Jerry reached over to pull the song book out of her way as she sat down but he wasn't quick enough and she sat on his hand, pinning it to the seat beneath her soft ass. He gave her an apologetic look and tried to pull his hand free but Sandra reached between them and held his forearm still. She gave him a soft dreamy look and wiggled her bottom.

Shifting her weight slightly Sandra guided her father's hand to turn over so that her ass rested on his palm. His eyes widened as she gyrated a little in his grip and he started to say something to her when he realized she seemed to be paying attention to the sermon. Bewildered by this sudden turn of events he too looked up to the pulpit and tried to listen to the words the preacher spoke.

After a minute he could feel his daughter's weight shift around a little, the pressure of her bottom against his hand encouraging the erection forming in his pants. His fingers flexed to grip her cushiony ass and from the corner of his eye he saw Sandra close her eyes slowly as she sucked in air through parted lips. Her mouth curved in a small smile and he could tell her eyes were rolling back in delight as he continued his furtive groping.

Jerry tried to look about without appearing to do so, gauging whether anyone had noticed that his daughter was sitting on his hand. No one was looking at them with a disapproving stare. Mrs. Jacobsen, an eighty year old grandmother of seven, smiled at him when he turned around to look at the row directly behind. Returning her smile weakly, Jerry faced forward once again.

Sandra leaned into her father. When Jerry looked down at her she held the sweater away from her body and he could clearly see the changes she had made to her dress. It was his turn to suck in air as he beheld the beauty of her cleavage hidden to all but him. Her ivory white skin was on full display and the dark valley formed by her breasts caused him to grip her fleshy cheek tightly.

A light giggle escaped Sandra's lips as she felt her father's reaction, the ache in her chest and the wetness between her thighs growing. Jerry could clearly see the flesh around the tip of her breast crinkle up as the nipple became ever larger. His cock became engorged as he gazed upon the tender flesh of his daughter's womanly body.

"Amen," the congregation said.

Jerry tore his gaze away from his daughter's heaving bosom and tried valiantly to pay attention as his hand kneaded the soft ass pressed onto his hand. Sandra laid her hand upon his thigh as she nuzzled her father's shoulder. The smell of his aftershave was light and hypnotic and she felt herself drifting into a haze as she concentrated on the scent. She could feel his erection just at the edge of her fingertip as it grew down his pant leg. With just a small flex of her finger she could rub the crown of his cock imperceptibly.

Jerry's breathing became softly shallow as his heart raced in his chest. The fear of being caught, in church no less, coupled with the fact that it was his very own daughter made him more aroused than he had ever been. Within moments of her furtive rubbing his cock was at full mast and he could feel wetness upon his upper thigh where pre-cum was leaking.

Sandra was not satisfied though and moved her hand once again, placing it atop his cock completely. She started to make small rubbing motions and Jerry had to cough to cover up the groan he let out. With a terrified look he stared at his daughter whose smoldering eyes betrayed her innocent smile. Sandra's pussy was flooded and she was sure he would feel it as she soaked the seat beneath her. She relished the feel of his manhood underneath her fingers and she squeezed him slowly as she rubbed its length as much as she dared.

For a time Sandra was content to tease her father mercilessly but she was being tortured as well and needed more. Her pussy ached to be touched and she delighted in the wickedness of doing it in this holy place. Removing her hand from her father's lap she began to pick at her full skirt. Twisting slowly she pulled the skirt up and removed her father's hand from under her butt, much to his disappointment. Painstakingly slow she pulled the skirt up higher and higher until it was bunched up against the back of the seat and her panty covered ass was directly against the pew. When at last she was finished she leaned into her father and stared up at him until he brought his ear close to her.

"Put your hand back," she whispered as quietly as she could. When her father nodded she grabbed the loose material tightly in a bunch and then leaned away from him reaching for another song book. As her ass lifted off the seat he pushed his hand underneath the skirt until he felt the warmth of her sex. When Sandra leaned back she had to adjust herself so that she could sit with his hand wedged in the crack of her ass comfortably. At last she settled down, leaning a little forward so as not to be too obvious. Her father's fingers were pressed up against her soaking panties, pressing lightly against the aroused lips of her sex.

Jerry felt her weight settle and he had to bite his lip to keep from wincing aloud. The awkward angle was quite painful and he had to shift lower in the seat to accommodate the strange position. He looked about nervously, still hoping that no one suspected what was happening under their very noses. Flexing his fingers against his daughter's pussy he felt the wetness of her desire. He pressed against her nether lips rhythmically and soon could feel her shifting her weight in time to his movements.

Sandra gripped her father's thigh once again, this time tightly as she rode his hand. She curled just the end of her fingers around the ridge of his cock and palmed it as much as she could without being too obvious. Faking a yawn, she pressed her hand up against her mouth trying to stifle a cry as her father's fingers worked the underwear aside and dipped into her honey soaked pussy.

Jerry listened to the sermon, trying to determine when it was going to end. Glancing at his watch he guessed they had about three minutes left. Knowing that their game was about to conclude he decided to step it up a gear and really give his daughter a ride. Pushing his pinky and ring finger into her pussy as deeply as he could, he stroked her clit with his middle finger. A wicked gleam twinkled in his eyes as Sandra's face immediately froze in a look of muted horror. She tried to plead with him out of the corner of her eyes but she couldn't move to look at him directly.

Sandra's breathing became erratic and her lips trembled as an orgasm approached, though no other outward sign betrayed what was truly happening to her. Twitching slightly she gripped the pew in front of her and tried to remain as still as possible as her father fingered her pussy towards climax. Jerry could smell her now, the flow of her juices was too great and it was only a matter of time before the people around them smelled it too. Filled with lust and desire he abandoned all sense and concentrated on making his daughter cum.

The damn broke and Sandra's whole body tensed as if she were bearing the weight of the world. Her hands turned white with strain as she tried to tear the wooden bench in front of her to pieces as her loins exploded in delirious pleasure. Screwing her eyes shut in concentration she bit down hard and locked her jaw as she tried to remain quiet as the waves of excruciating joy crashed against her.

"So remember," the preacher was concluding, "prayer is not a chore, it's a twenty four hour hotline to God."

"A-MEN!" Sandra shouted loudly with relief, stunning everyone around her.

The preacher did a little jump, startled as well.

"Thank you sister," he said amusedly.

Jerry pulled his hand free immediately and sat up straight. He pressed his fingers together and leaned over with them near his face. He inhaled her scent deeply and felt his throbbing cock threaten to explode. With sheer will he pulled his hands away and looked up to see his daughter settling back against the seat with a dreamy look spread across her face.

As the services concluded Sandra pulled the sweater on properly, buttoning it up all the way to hide her cleavage. She stood and held out her hand to her father. When he took it she pulled him close to her body and walked in front of him to hide his obvious erection.

"You enjoy the sermon honey?" grandmother Jacobsen asked Sandra as they walked to the aisle.

"I did, but we've got to get home quickly," Sandra replied as she led her father away. "Second cumming and all," she added with a wink.