Traitor in Church

Author's Note: Hope you enjoy this. Don't forget to comment and rate! Cheers!

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They said he had returned a week ago from England and that this time he was a changed man. Comfort did not believe it. As long as there was a moon and a sun, Stanley would never change. He had been popular mostly amongst the women of the church, and Comfort had little doubt he still was, judging from their excited chatters that always seemed to centre on him.

Comfort demurred to give into the temptation to gossip about him or think of him. Even when her husband, the church's pastor, commented on Stanley's newfound behaviour at dinnertimes, she remained obdurate on her resolution, keeping her speculations in a sealed can.

Then she met him on Sunday, and her stubborn wall cracked. Stanley was a good 6 feet tall, broad shouldered and balding. He had eyes that appeared to emit a strange, spellbinding energy; when he stared at you, you felt your body grow warm and you couldn't look away. She was staring into those eyes right now, smiling as he greeted her. He shook her hand, a polite gesture, and Comfort was amazed at how big his hand was.

'Comfort. Glad to see you again after all these months,' Stanley said, smiling that easy, charming smile of his that got most women giggling like school girls.

'I hope you're back to stay,' Comfort said, stumping the creeping pleasant effect his sharp, liquid brown eyes had on her. She wasn't like most women. She was devoted to her husband, to her church.

'I hope so too.'

Stanley had fled the country – according to hearsay – four months ago when his affair with a string of married women had been exposed by one of his jilted girlfriends. There had been no evidence, of course, and the supposed women he had slept with had vehemently denied the accusations of infidelity.

Comfort didn't need evidence to know Stanley had slept with those women. He had a rather strong sex appeal, and when he tossed it at any woman who showed the slightest interest in him, she crawled into his bed without thinking of the consequences.

She had almost been one of them. Almost.

Comfort and Stanley had struck a friendship back in the days. They had been very close. They had talked an awful lot, and occasionally they had flirted. Stanley never took it to the next level, but Comfort knew if he had, she would have been without a doubt one of his victims.

Comfort spent the rest of the day teaching the young ones, and then joined the women of the church in a fellowship prayer at midday. The small gathering broke at around 4pm and Comfort took her bible and purse to her car. On her way to the car park, she saw Stanley and Mr Obi talking and laughing beside Mr Obi's silver Mercedes. Mr Obi was one of the church's prestigious and respected members, and if he was taking his time to chat to Stanley, then Stanley really must have turned a new leaf.

At home, Comfort wondered what Stanley was up to, if he had eaten (he never could cook), whether he had a steady job to support himself (unlike the last time), if the recurring nightmare of his father dying in his arms still kept him from sleeping well.

Her phone rang and she answered it.

'Hello?'

'Hey,' said Stanley's rich, rumbling voice.

'Stanley.' Comfort's heart drummed faster. 'How are you?'

'I'm fine. Just wanted to know how you're doing.'

'I'm okay. The kids are downstairs and my husband is in his room, praying.'

'Always praying, that man. Guess that's why he's the pastor of the church.'

Comfort laughed at Stanley's familiar, age-long joke. Some things hadn't changed about him.

'I called to get the list of ingredients for that soup you made me months ago,' Stanley said.

'I knew it. You still can't cook,' Comfort said, grinning.

Stanley chuckled. It sounded good.

'Yeah, yeah, you got me.'

Comfort remained on the phone with him for hours, talking about food, his time away from the church, his work and so many other things.

Their tight friendship, the one she had thought long dead and forgotten, was reborn that night.

*******************

The chitchats behind hands and closed doors about Stanley did not cease, and the longer he stayed the more prominent they became. Stanley really had changed, from what Comfort had witnessed. He helped out more often and was always willing to volunteer for work he normally avoided. He even became a regular teacher at the children's section, under Comfort's mentorship. They had a lot of fun sitting next to each other, lecturing the young ones on the life's lessons acquired from the bible stories they read.

Then Stanley missed church one Sunday. No one thought too much of it; it was Stanley after all. But Comfort was worried. She did not want her friend reverting to his old ways. She loved the new Stanley, with his sexy, delightful demeanour, and his penchant for working in the house of God.

On Tuesday, Comfort was driving home from the market when she decided, on the spur of the moment, to visit Stanley and see how he was doing. She told her husband via a text where she was headed.

Stanley lived in a shabby estate. The walls of the storey buildings around were filthy and disheartening. Comfort felt sorry her friend had to stay here. Perhaps he should have put the money he had used to fly to England to better use.

She found his apartment block and climbed to the fourth floor. Before she knocked on his door she inspected herself: her blue, knee-length dress had no unnecessary creases on it, and it embraced her plump figure well, accentuating her large bosom and ample ass. Comfort pushed her breasts out, and then frowned at her behaviour. What was she doing? She was married. She shouldn't be acting like she was visiting a high school crush.

But that was the way it was with Comfort these days. She always ensured she looked her best whenever Stanley was around, and she tended to flaunt the parts of her she knew he loved: her large breasts and massive buttocks. Some men made you feel fat and unattractive; Stanley made you feel like you were the sexiest being on earth, and it was a wonderful feeling. That's why most women loved him.

Comfort shrugged. Stanley would never take things too far with her anyways. She was the pastor's wife, and Stanley had immense respect for the pastor, the man who had quelled the growing hate-mob that had been out for Stanley's head months ago when it emerged that he had slept with those women.

The door opened and Stanley poked his head out. The instant he saw it was Comfort his grimace morphed into a grin.

'Hey, Comfort, come in!' He stood aside for her.

Comfort, looking and feeling a tad embarrassed, walked in. Stanley shut the door and hugged her tightly.

'What was that for?' Comfort asked when they broke apart.

'For visiting me. No one does that.'

'You weren't at church last Sunday, so I thought I should find out if you're okay,' Comfort told him.

'Oh, I'm fine.' He grinned, excited as a child who had just been handed the best Christmas present ever.

'Did something happen to you?' Comfort asked.

'Please, sit,' Stanley said, chuckling. He directed her to a cushion, and then sat in an empty seat, facing her.

'I got a job!' He announced.

'You did? Wow!' Comfort said, laughing. 'Congrats!'

'Thank you. I'm so happy. It's a very good job, and I'm going to be well paid. In two months, I'll be out of this horrible place.'

'You have no idea how happy I am for you,' Comfort said.

'I was actually about to celebrate.' Stanley leaped from his seat, walked to the dining table, and came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

'With whom?' Comfort asked, eyeing the second glass and cocking an eyebrow. Was he expecting someone – a woman, perhaps? Who was she? Mild jealousy stabbed Comfort's heart.

'Well, I was going to call you and see if you wanted to come over. Now that you're here, we can begin!'

Comfort laughed with Stanley and took the full glass he handed her. They drank and chatted for a little over an hour about a plethora of things. He even got to admit that he wasn't seeing anyone at present, much to Comfort's surprise (and elation).

'I don't believe you. You're only saying that because you don't want to hurt my feelings.'

'Comfort, you know you're my only wife. I can't be with anyone else,' Stanley said, chortling.

Comfort tossed him a mock glare and drank from her cup.

'Really, who is she?' she asked.

'No one.'

'No sister from our church is good enough for you?'

'Oh, they are,' Stanley said, frowning and setting aside his glass cup.

'What's wrong?' Comfort asked, worry creasing her forehead.

'That's part of the reason I didn't come to church last Sunday,' Stanley said. 'The sisters are very attractive.'

'Um ... Stanley, that's not exactly a good enough reason –'

'It is when I don't want to sully the house of God,' Stanley said, staring at her with pained eyes. 'I did some pretty bad things inside that church and I don't want to do them again.'

'So, you're worried about what you'll do inside the church, not what you'll actually do?' Comfort said, perplexed.

'Well ... yeah ...,' Stanley said.

Their eyes locked. Heat sneaked up Comfort's neck and cheeks. If she wasn't a black woman she would be pink all over. Stanley was staring at her like he wanted something ... like he wanted something and he would get it. He had stared at her like that many times, long before he had disappeared from her life. It always rendered her body immobile and laboured her breathing.

'The last time,' he began, still gazing at her with his eerily fiery eyes, 'I made the mistake of ... sleeping with them in one of the offices. Three of them. At different times, of course.'

'I thought they were two,' Comfort said, rubbing her neck and trying to act normal.

'No, three.'

'That wasn't a nice thing to do, Stanley.'

'I know. But this time ...' Stanley went on his knees and inched towards her.

Comfort had a profoundly confused look on her face. What on earth was he doing?

'This time, I want just one woman. And we won't do it in the church. We'll do it outside the church,' he said.

'Stanley, why not get a wife then?' Comfort said and was shocked to hear her voice sounding so husky. She shifted in her chair.

'You're my only wife,' Stanley said.

He was right in front of her, touching her lap. His big hands slipped under her dress. Comfort just stared at him as though he had gone mad. But she didn't stop him. Why didn't she stop him?

Astonishing, how their conversation had veered from his job to his love life to ... this.

Comfort stilled against his touch. She felt his fingers stroke higher up her thighs and tangle with her panties. She thought of her husband, her faithful, loving husband who would never do anything to hurt her. She thought about the million reasons why this was wrong. She wondered why Stanley had taken this long to make his move, and she cursed herself for lacking the strength to shoot him down.

Tell him to stop. Tell him to stop. You're married. Tell him to stop!

Her eyes ticked downwards and she saw her panties lying beside her feet. He had taken it off while she had been contemplating stopping him instead of actually stopping him.

There was still time to prevent this disaster from happening. She only had to get up and leave.

Her heart hammered faster. Her chest rose and fell at an increased speed, and her eyes clouded with pleasure as his big hands rubbed her sturdy thighs and squeezed them.

'Stanley ...' At last she found her voice. 'Stanley, please ... we shouldn't ...'

'It's okay,' he said, his voice soothing.

'What about my husband?'

'He'll never know. We're not in doing it in church,' Stanley said, separating her locked thighs slowly. He lifted her legs one after the other, placing her thighs on his shoulders.

Comfort whimpered, wondering what he was about to do, hoping he would change his mind, wishing her body didn't want him to continue. His head moved forward, lower, into her dress.

Comfort inhaled sharply as she felt his cool, wet tongue tickle her pussy lips. It happened again and she moaned his name. Then again, a quick tongue-flick against her clit, arousing her beyond what she was used to. Her husband had never gone down there with his mouth.

Why am I doing this? I shouldn't! My husband ... my children ... I'm betraying all of them.

Her conflicted mind battled itself while her body vibrated with pleasure, like a tuning fork, as Stanley's mouth covered and stimulated her pussy. Comfort gripped the arms of the chair and bucked her hips, shoving her pussy into his mouth, wanting him to go deeper, needing him to lick every inch of her.

Stanley, groaning, reached up and clutched her mountainous breasts. He squeezed hard and a new poisonous gratification, one that told her that this was right despite the looming consequences, charged from her nipples all over her body, electrifying her.

Comfort sat, staring at the ceiling, groaning and moaning, breathing like she had just completed a race around the world. When the pleasure was too much to bear, she shut her eyes and gritted her teeth, her body twisting, her breasts tingling, her nipples burning.

Stanley's hands kept kneading her big breasts as his mouth brought her pussy to its peak of excitement.

'Stan – Stan – Stanley!' Comfort cried out, jerking her hips about. The orgasm that walloped her mangled her body in unimaginable ways. So this is how those women had felt when Stanley had dealt with them.

Stanley brought his head up and lowered her straps, peeling her dress down to her waist. He got rid of her bra afterwards.

'You have no idea how long I've waited for this,' he murmured, cradling and moulding her breasts. He began to suck her nipples, his tongue teasing her hardened buds, thrilling them more.

Comfort writhed against him, holding onto his head and urging him on with her soft cries.

Later, Stanley got her to her feet, and they strolled in silence to his king-sized bed in his room. He made her lie on her stomach, and then started pinching and kissing her big ass.

'Oh!' Comfort shivered suddenly. She had felt his tongue on her anal hole.

That was new ... and rather unexpected. So, Stanley actually liked that? She had heard that some people participated in anal sex, but she never believed. Was that what this was? Why would anyone opt to do something so sordid?

Comfort squirmed, grunting her disapproval when Stanley's tongue invaded her asshole again. But either Stanley didn't hear or he did and didn't care. His hands clutching and massaging her big butt, his expert tongue poked and licked her butthole.

Minutes later, Comfort's grunts of displeasure became moans of appreciation. The idea of Stanley putting his mouth on a place like her asshole was revolting, but the feeling she got out of it was pure ecstasy. She couldn't explain it, couldn't understand how it was possible. All she knew was that it felt really good.

'Stanley,' Comfort grunted, lifting her ass and pushing the soft flesh against Stanley's face. That was her way of saying, 'Give me more of that.'

And Stanley gave her more. He literally ate her pussy and asshole for minutes, cajoling another orgasm that knocked the wind out of her.

'You'll kill me today ...,' Comfort muttered as Stanley rolled her on her back.

He held her shaking thighs apart and his lips descended on her pussy again. After a few seconds, he shifted his weight and kissed her, nibbling her full lips, sucking them, playing with her tongue. As he kissed her, one of his hands tweaked her nipples and kneaded her breasts while the other held his cock and rubbed its head on her pussy.

Stanley pushed in. Comfort purred, her face twisting with pleasure and slight pain. He was big. Really big. And he was stretching her. The head of his cock had only just penetrated her and she felt another orgasm cultivating. Her hips jolted upwards and Stanley sank further in, swiftly this time. An explosive sensation ripped her body to shreds. She had climaxed.

Wailing, Comfort cleaved to his shoulders. Stanley grunted something incoherent and began to jerk his hips up and down, forcing his thick cock to slide along the walls of her pussy. She couldn't see it, but she felt it – the white, creamy liquid trickling from her cunt to her asshole.

Stanley fucked Comfort harder and faster than anyone had ever fucked her, and she was relieved when he growled her name and shot his load inside her. She had begun to think he would never stop. She had climaxed an additional two times, and her body felt like it had been dragged on mile-long road. But the pain and weariness came with a heap of sweet satisfaction.

They didn't speak as they lay there, panting. After a short while, they got dressed. At the door, Stanley bade her goodbye, smiling as though they had not just committed a sinful act. Comfort left Stanley's apartment feeling terrible and ashamed.

On her way home she thought about what her actions meant. If she was caught, if anyone from her church found out what she had done, dishonour on her family name would be the least of her problems. She shivered. She had to stay away from Stanley. Maybe God could forgive her someday, because her husband would not if he discovered her treachery.

****************

Stanley smirked and sauntered to his room. He picked up his phone and searched his address book. Once he found the number he was looking for, he dialled.

'I've done it.'

'It's on film?'

'Yep.' Stanley collapsed on his bed with a contented sigh. 'Filmed from all angle. She even liked my anal –'

'You did what?'

'Relax, Pastor,' Stanley said. 'I didn't put my dick in her ass. Just her pussy.'

'Good. Because that wasn't part of the deal.'

'Hey, don't use that tone with me, man. Let's not forget, it was you and the others who came to me and paid me to fuck their wives, not the other way around.'

Pastor exhaled noisily at the other end of the line.

'You'll have your money this night.'

'And you'll have your award-winning porn movie,' Stanley said and hung up.

He scrolled through his list of contacts and located Mr Obi's number.

He grinned.

Business was booming better than he had expected.