A Man and his Faults

Christine

A few years after my experience with Melinda I was invited to a wedding. This was the full formal deal with a lengthy ceremony in a big cathedral. Unfortunately I was a bit late and the place was pretty full. I didn't want to have to walk down the aisle looking for a seat, so I walked around the back of the last pew and grabbed a seat at its outside end, putting me in the far back corner of the church. When I arrived the pew was empty as was the one across the aisle and two or three rows of pews ahead of me.

Shortly after I sat down a good looking woman walked in and stood in the aisle opposite the end of the pew looking about as though trying to spot someone she knew. She was an attractive blonde looking to be in her early thirties wearing a snug dark brown skirt that stopped a few inches above her knees. She wore a cream colored blouse, sheer enough to allow me to see, or at least suspect, the details of her bra beneath it and to speculate about the cup size. A very nice C cup I thought. But what really got my attention were her beautiful legs smoothly encased in light tan hosiery and the obviously expensive pair of sling back heels encasing her dainty feet. I was more than a little pleased when she elected to sit at the far end of the same pew as me. When she sat she crossed her legs giving me a great look at one very sexy nylon clad leg and the sexy foot at the end of it. I suspected I was going to be distracted throughout the wedding.

But then again, I wasn't really that interested in the wedding. I didn't really know the young couple getting married (her father was a business associate). As I sat there waiting for the ceremony to begin I reached into the breast pocket of my suit and pulled out the invitation, wanting to make sure I knew the names of the key players (bride, groom, parents, etc.) and the location of the reception.

I looked again at the woman at the end of the pew unable to avoid savoring another look at her sexy legs and feet. Her legs were definitely first rate, encased in nylons, and with her sling back heels she was going to provide a first rate wedding ogling opportunity. She was digging about in her purse, obviously seeking something and her foot in its lovely heel was bobbing in frustration. She looked over at me and saw that I was holding my invitation. We were at that stage in a wedding where nearly everyone who is going to attend is there but the formalities haven't yet begun. The bride in all her radiant beauty is hiding out in a dressing room at the back and everyone is quietly chit-chatting.

She leaned towards me and said, "Excuse me is that a copy of the invitation you have there. I seem to have left mine at home. Could I just have a look at it?"

"Certainly," I said.

She slid across the pew toward me, giving me a devastating view of her nylon clad legs as she scissored her way toward me. She was stunning. I knew right then that I was going to be seriously distracted for the remainder of the ceremony. She had a very large diamond on her left hand so I didn't harbor hopes for wedding sex.

Once she was alongside me I handed her my invitation and leaned back against the end of the pew. As she read the invitation I indulged in some serious ogling of her legs. Her skirt had slid up even higher as she had worked her way over to me. It took her quite a while to read the invitation which should have been a clue that my ogling did not go unnoticed.

"Thank you," she said handing the invitation back to me. Her leg wasn't pressed against mine, but it was close enough so I could feel it's warmth. She made no effort to slide back to the other end of the pew, apparently satisfied with our new seating arrangement in the back corner of the church. "How do you know the couple?" she asked.

"The Bride's father is a business associate. I've actually never met the couple," I responded.

"These big weddings can be like that," she said. "Her mother is my cousin, second or third I think. My mother told me I had to go to represent our branch of the family." She smiled and shook her head.

"Oh there are worse ways to spend a Saturday afternoon. And I'm sure there will be a good reception."

"Of course," she said. "Oh. My name is Christine. Christine Anderson," holding her hand out to me.

"Rodney Perkins," I responded. Taking her hand in mine. I held it for perhaps just a bit longer than was strictly proper, but I tend to do that with attractive woman and she showed no sign of objection, instead smiling radiantly up at me.

That was about the time the ceremony got underway. We all stood as the bride and her father paced down the aisle in a stately fashion with a $5,000 dress getting its inaugural and likely only public viewing.

When we sat back down Christine's dress had slid a bit higher and she had crossed her legs so her foot was poised over mine. As the ceremony droned on she crossed and re-crossed her legs several times, letting her dress slide up a bit higher each time. We were still several pews behind the nearest couple. I could not resist ogling her stunning legs and feet. The ceremony was boring, the woman sitting next to me was sexy, and I could feel my cock slowly growing.

Eventually she leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Enjoying the view?"

"Yes, the bride is lovely."

"That's not what I meant," she said as let her heel slip off one foot and begin caressing the back of my calf beneath my trousers with her nylon covered foot. The soft fabric felt incredibly erotic. She pulled her skirt up a bit more as she did that.

"Oh... yes," I said. "Your legs and feet are lovely."

I felt the blood rushing to my cock as it began to tent my trousers.

"That looks lovely too," she said as she reached over and stroked my hardening cock.

"You like nylons, don't you?" she whispered. "My first husband was like that." She continued to stroke my calf with her smooth, soft toes.

"Yes," I whispered. I looked around and saw that we were still several pews behind everyone.

Christine sat up and reached down with one hand and released her other heel. Then she slid away from me and swung both of her feet into my lap, laying them atop my rapidly growing hard-on. Well this is a first, I thought: footie sex during a church service. I looked around and decided we were seated well behind everyone. It was unlikely that anyone was going to notice what Christine and I were doing so long as the ceremony continued. Having satisfied myself that our conduct was only slightly insane I reached down with both hands and began to massage her delicious looking feet. I worked on one foot at a time while she used the other to stroke my cock. I was captivated by the soft fabric of her hosiery and the flame red coloring of her nails. I let my hands wander up her ankles and along her calves. As I worked on her she was leaning back in the pew holding herself upright with one hand hung over the back of the pew, her eyes closing from time to time as I continued my massage.

We kept our illicit conduct up for at least ten or fifteen minutes until I realized we had reached the 'you may kiss the bride' point of the ceremony. I tugged at Christine's leg to get her attention and then whispered, "Show time." The newly-wed couple would be exiting down the aisle within moments, walking right past us. Christine swung her feet down and discreetly put her shoes on. She slid next to me and continued to stroke my cock with her hand until the last moment before the couple came into visual range. By this time everyone in the church was standing so we joined them. We would be the last to leave the church as the pews emptied from front to back. I needed some cover for the tent in my trousers so I stood closely behind Christine. Not wanting to give up on the fun I reached down and put my hands on her hips pulling her into me so my hard-on was pressing into her back-side. She reciprocated by subtly rubbing her ass back and forth against my overheated cock. I left my hands on her hips, pushing our luck just a bit, but as everyone walked by they seemed happy to chat amongst themselves and completely ignore us.

As the last couple walked past us Christine turned towards me and softly said, "This way." She slid by me, dragging her hand softly along my engorged cock and her tits against my chest and then led me out the end of the pew. Instead of walking behind the last pew to the door to follow the others Christine walked quickly over to an almost invisible door set in the wood paneling in the back corner of the church. The door was not obvious and it certainly did not have a handle to open it. She touched a slot next to it and the door swung open. She looked over her shoulder to assure that we were alone and then stepped into the room as she said, "Follow me."

The wood paneled room was windowless, about ten feet on a side with a couch on one side, and a coat rack on another. There was full length mirror on a third side and a small desk and chair alongside the door. Christine walked across the room and immediately begin to disrobe, carefully hanging her clothing on the coat rack. "Rodney," she said, please lock the door. We wouldn't want to be disturbed."

I turned back to the door and locked it. The lock was a little fiddley and by the time I completed the chore and turned back to face Christine she was naked, but for her thigh high hosiery and sexy heels. She was standing before the mirror, admiring herself. Her back was to me but I could see her front in the mirror. She looked stunning, great legs, perfectly smooth in the tan hosiery, a cute little round ass tapering to a narrow waist, and a lovely pair of breasts above that. She was cupping her breasts and turning just a bit from side to side evaluating her appearance.

"Stunning. Just stunning," I said.

She turned towards me with a smile and said, "Thank you. I left the hosiery and heels on for you."

"Thank you."

"You should take those clothes off."

"Okay, but what is this place?" As I spoke I was removing my coat and tie and putting them on the coat rack.

"It's a robing room. The choir uses it before Sunday service."

"And the rest of the time," I asked.

She was walking toward me. I could feel my cock growing as I stared at her swaying tits. Her nipples were swollen and appeared hard. She was visibly aroused.

"People use it when they don't want to be disturbed," she responded to my question. "Like now. The lock is very effective." She was standing before me now. As I unbuttoned my shirt, she was stroking my swollen cock through my trousers.

"You seem to know a lot about the church?" I asked.

"Yes, I do." As she spoke she had released my trousers, letting them fall to the floor and extracted my now fully erect cock from my underwear. "My first husband was the minister here. We used to screw between services here."

"You mean the guy standing up here on the alter conducting the service?"

"No. There was a scandal when my first husband and I divorced and he moved on. That's Randal. He was the assistant pastor before my divorce." She smiled. "I used to screw him right here too, but that didn't come out when my husband left so Randal got promoted."

"You sound like a woman of experience," I said.

"Enough," she responded. She cupped my balls with one hand while the other smeared the precum leaking from the tip of my cock around the head causing me to gasp quietly. "I more or less grew up running around in this church. It's amazing how many places I had sex members of church."

"And their wives?" I asked. I was cupping her tits now, massaging them and lightly pinching her engorged nipples.

"Oh god, that feels good."

"So that guy up on the altar, the one guy in the church who was looking our direction was your former lover?"

"Yes," she gasped as I pinched a nipple harder. "But he won't care. He has seen me seduce men in the back pew for years, even before my divorce." She dropped to her knees and unlaced my shoes and removed them and my socks from my feet.

"And women too?" I asked.

"Occasionally."

"So you're sure about that lock."

"Absolutely," she responded as she rose from removing my shoes, stroking my cock as she rose to her feet.

I stepped out of my trousers and hung them over the coat rack. Now we were both naked. We stood kissing for what seemed like hours, her tits mashed against my chest and my rigid cock pressed into her soft belly. Eventually I broke the kiss and lowered my head to her lovely breasts to suckle her nipples. That didn't last long before she interrupted me, pulling my head up and saying, "Let's fuck." I've always liked a woman who is that direct about what she wants.

We walked to the couch and she sprawled on it, one foot on the back of the couch and the other on the floor while she used one hand to massage her tits and the other to stroke her pussy lips. I stood over her stroking my cock and savoring the erotic visual of Christine, naked but for her thigh high hosiery, languidly masturbating. I dropped to my knees between her legs. She was using both hands to spread her pussy lips in invitation. Before going where I knew she wanted me I started with her nylon clad feet and legs, sucking on the toes and licking and stroking slowly from her feet up to the inside of her thighs--one leg and then the other. Christine seemed to have no objection to my delay. She was obviously enjoying what I was doing and she was augmenting it by slowly massaging her tits and softly stroking her pussy.

When I had finished with both of her legs I knelt with my face before her pussy, which was gleaming from her dripping sex juices. Pushing her hands out of my way I began by carefully spreading her lips myself and making sure I knew where her clit and her entrance were. I always like to make sure I have a good grasp of a woman's geography before I began to eat her. They are all a little different. The next fifteen minutes were spent in an escalating attack on her sex: long slow licking of the tender flesh behind her pussy lips, a bit of sucking and nibbling of her lips (she had deliciously fleshy lips), an occasional flick of her engorged clit which was peaking discreetly from its hood, combined with an increasingly aggressive attack on her dripping cunt with my fingers.

Christine was quietly groaning and moaning throughout my oral assault and pulling on her nipples. She got progressively louder as she approached her climax, beginning to become quite profane. "Oh fuck yes. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes. That's so fucking good."

I let her cruise like that, hanging on the edge of an orgasm, but doing my best not to push her over the cliff. But of course you can't do that forever. When I realized she was reaching her point of no return I pushed hard on the front face of her cunt with two fingers while I aggressively attacked her clit. That pushed her over the edge and she came with a gush of pussy juices that coated my face and a scream that I was concerned would be heard throughout the church.

I didn't wait for her to recover. Instead I positioned myself between her thighs and drove my cock into her cunt. She was tight from her just completed orgasm and, like many women I have loved, she tried to delay me. I just kept pushing until l had fully penetrated her, my balls resting against her ass.

Dropping her protests, she said. "Oh fuck that feels so good. You're fucking huge (a lot of women say that but I think of myself as more or less average, and I just take those statements as a compliment). I began to fuck her hard and was pleased to find Christine was a woman who could easily have multiple orgasms. It took a lot of self-control on my part, but I managed to drive her to three more orgasms before I lost my control.

We tried several positions, me on top, her on top, spooning, doggy style. I didn't seem to matter. We enjoyed them all. I held on until we were standing with Christine leaning forward resting her arms on the desk, her legs spread to get her pussy down to the right level for me, one of my favorite positions for serious fucking. I was hanging on to her hips and banging away at her. It was going fine until I looked to my right and saw our reflection in the mirror--me fucking this gorgeous woman with tan thigh highs on and a delicious set of tits hanging from her chest and swinging wildly as I pounded her pussy with my cock. "Oh fuck," I said. "Look at us."

She looked to the side and kind of purred, "Pretty hot aren't we."

I felt her start using her pussy muscles to squeeze my cock. That's when I realized I couldn't hold out much longer. "Oh god, I'm going to cum," I said.

"Pull out," she said. "I want you to spray my tits. It's so nasty when a man does that."

I pulled out of her and stood gripping the base of my cock tightly to try and hold on. Christine flipped around and lay back on the desk her legs spread apart. Just as I stepped between her legs I lost control. My prick shot stream after stream of hot pearly jism on her belly, her tits and even a few strips across her face. Before she could say anything, I leaned over and quickly ate her to one last climax while she rubbed my cum into her tits.

Minutes later we were sitting side by side, still naked, on the couch. She was leaning her warm body against my side. "I guess we better get dressed and go to the reception," I said.

"Reception?"

"Yes. Remember. We came here for a wedding."

"Oh, yes. the wedding." Christine was still a little out of it.

"Or," I said. "We could go to my place. Maybe have a bite to eat, a glass of wine, or two... and then pick up where we left off here."

"Oh yes," she said coming back to life. "That's a much better idea. But wait. You don't have a wife waiting there for you, do you?"

"Not at the moment." I was between wives two and three just then. "But now that you mention it, that is a pretty nice ring you are wearing. Do you have a husband to go with it?"

"Oh yes, but he's in South America just now, buying or selling something. He won't know whether I make it home tonight or not."

She didn't make it home that night. Or even the next day. It turned out to be a lovely weekend even if I missed the reception. I sent the couple a nice gift.

And Christine and I? We had an off and on again affair for a year or so. I can't say we were "friends with benefits." I never got to know her that well. Our relationship was pretty much limited to sex--simple and satisfying for each of us. She really seemed to get a kick out of masturbating my cock with her nylon clad feet. So did I. I didn't ask her why nor did she me. Of course the footie sex was just a warm up. We licked, tickled, sucked and fucked in just about every other way a pair of perverted minds like ours could come up with. Eventually she moved to the East Coast when her husband changed jobs. The financial benefits of staying married to him almost certainly exceeded the benefits of a good screwing by me every month or two. I'm good, but not that good.

My cigar is about gone, my tumbler of Scotch is about empty, and I can feel the temperature dropping as I watch the fog streaming into the Bay through Gate. I feel no need for another cigar or another tumbler of Scotch. There is a pile of progress reports and financial statements from our portfolio companies, new or subsequent round financing proposals, investor inquiries, and other work related matters awaiting my attention inside.