Christmas Hard Case Birthday Ch. 01

“Does wine make you warm? I’m perspiring,” she said.

“Perhaps it’s the intensity of your prayers. You said you usually don’t read them out loud. Your reading is affecting me too.” The billowing pants hid my erection.

She put down the book and pulled the sweater over her head. It got hung up as it moved across her breasts. The black blouse underneath rode up, exposing her flat stomach and the tops of her panties. She lay the sweater on the side and pulled her shirt down, knees tight together. Sweat stains had begun under her arms.

I sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward, palms together at my chest.

“It’s not the Bible, is it? You can talk to me. What is it with you and boys? Did something happen?” Please, tell me all the juicy details.

She looked up from the book. “I don’t know, Mr. Marcus. It’s personal, and I hardly know you.”

I put a fatherly hand on one of her bare knees. “Tell me, Chris. I’m sure I can help.”

“Okay, if you promise not to tell Aunt Loretta, I’ll show you.”

Show?

She put the book on the floor and stood up in front of me. With her fingertips, she moved her panties down a couple of inches. Staring back at me was a small tattoo, a red devil above her pubic area. It looked just like the one in the cartoons. She pulled the panties back up, molding them against her cunt.

“I went back to get it removed, honest, but it hurt so bad I couldn’t stand it.” She sat.

“How did you get it in the first place?”

“Once when we went out on a bender. My nickname was Li’l Devil. I was always getting into trouble.”

“So you have a tattoo. No big deal.”

“You don’t understand. The tattoo isn’t the problem, although I’d rather be rid of it. You see, the girls would joke around about it, even telling my dates. Then they’d want to see it. And touch it. And every time, they’d snake their hands lower, touching me -”

“And how did that make you feel?” Just talking about it was making me throb.

“My stomach would knot up and I’d get these awful cramps. It was horrid. A lot of guys went home with a red imprint of my hand on their faces.”

Chris didn’t know how to handle her body’s reaction to natural sexual urges. “Go on.”

“It didn’t take too many incidents for me to change my ways. For example, this wine is the first alcohol I’ve had in close to a year.” She put her head in her hands.

“I think I might have a solution to your problem.” Right here in my pants. “Would you mind if I took a closer look, at the tattoo I mean?”

“Why?”

“Acts 8:14-25 17 Then, when the two apostles began laying their hands on the people, they received the Holy Spirit. Maybe we can rid you of these pains, once and for all.”

“Really? Do you think so?”

I patted the book in her hand. “If we follow the teachings...” It should our guide to a heavenly experience.

She brushed my hand off the volume. “But Timothy 5:22 thru :24 says Do not lay hands upon anyone too hastily and thereby share responsibility for the sins of others; keep yourself free from sin. The sins of some men are quite evident, going before them to judgment; for others, their sins follow after. What if you have sin on your mind?”

“But :25 continues Likewise also, deeds that are good are quite evident.”

“But it ends, and those which are otherwise cannot be concealed.”

“Leviticus 6:27 reminds us Whatsoever shall touch the flesh thereof shall be holy.”

She paused, temporarily out of rejoinders. Perhaps I was winning.

“Let me take a look,” I said.

“Must you? I’m so embarrassed.” Her cheeks were flushed. So were mine, given the temperature setting in the house.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. Trust me, you won’t have to go through this alone.”

She stood up in front of me. I remained seated at the edge of the bed. The black material slid easily down the slope beneath her navel. Some hair had grown in at the devil’s feet. I leaned over and touched the artwork.

“Mr. Marcus ...”

“Chris, I can’t do a laying on of hands without touching you.” I rubbed the critter in a circular pattern, growing the radius with each pass. My fingertips were now circulating into and out of her skimpy panties, inching closer to my target.

“Oooh, Mr. Marcus, the cramps.”

“Is this what happened when the boys -”

“Ooh, yes. I’m all knotted up inside.” She was leaning on me for support, her head and breasts on my back, her hands on my shoulders. “Maybe you’d be more comfortable lying down.” She made no comment when I flicked the panties over hips. Perhaps the pain was too distracting. I helped her to the bed. “Scoot up a little.”

She brought her hands to her stomach, pressing down. Her breasts rose trapped between her arms. “What’s the matter with me, Mr. Marcus?” Her speech was in moans. She brought her knees up towards her chest. There it was, in dewy glory, Chris’s cunt.

“Pray harder, Chris.”

Chris mumbled prayers quickly, as if saying them faster would bring relief. Occasionally I threw in an “amen” for good measure. I flipped the suspenders from my shoulders and let the oversized pants fall to the floor. In t-shirt and boxer shorts, I knelt at the edge of the bed. One finger traced the outline of her puffy pussy.

“Is this where it hurts?”

“Uh-huh. There, and inside, a little higher.” She resumed her recitations.

I moved my face up to the wet opening. Hoping to find her sensitive flesh nubbin, I flicked my tongue from bottom to top.

Her thighs slammed against my ears. “Eeeeeee!” Thigh earmuffs muffled Chris’s scream. “What are you doing?”

I pushed her knees apart. “Have you ever heard, kiss it and make it better?” I groped for a citation. “Song of Solomon 1:2-6 2 Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth; For thy love is better than wine. You’re not sick, Chris.”

“No, you are! Putting your mouth there! Eeeeewwww!”

“I meant, the pains you’re having are natural. You’re just excited!

“What are you talking about?”

“You need a sexual release, before your condition gets worse.”

“Oh no! No, no no! I can’t, Mr. Marcus. That’s the greatest sin of all!” She focused on the bulge in my skivvies. “Mr. Marcus, you’ve got an erection.”

“It happens every time I participate in prayer and meditation.”

“It does?”

“Yes. The power of God’s goodness fills me, inspires me, and excites me. It’s completely involuntary, I assure you.” The last part was no lie. “Matthew 9:21 For she said within herself, If I do but touch his garment, I shall be made whole.” I put her hand on the protruding cloth. She pulled back immediately. I placed one finger gently into her moist crease.

“Get that away from me!” She scooted up the bed in retreat, legs tight together in defiance. I pursued her until her head bumped the headboard. I pushed one knee to the side and put one hand back on her stomach. After rubbing for a while, I slid my hand down and reinserted one digit. “How does that feel?” I asked. “Better?”

She moved her hips a bit from side to side, then up and back.

“God forgive me. That’s helping. Is this okay?”

“That I’m helping you through the trauma of your unreleased sexual energy? Of course. It’s God’s will.”

Her hips were lifting to take more of my lone finger. The entrance and walls of her cunt were extremely tight. I wasn’t sure she could take anything bigger. My penis throbbed, preparing for the challenge. Now my finger was all the way in, and Chris was doing all the work. She writhed and bounced, grinding herself against my feeble digit.

“Oh, oh, uh, oh, ooooooooh.” Chris had her first orgasm, shattering those devil cramps. Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths.

“Uh, uh, uh, thank God for your finger, Mr. Marcus. I thought I was going crazy.”

“We’re not done yet, my dear.”

“No? But I’m feeling so much better now.” She was still humping, maybe not even realizing it.

“Recall Psalms 45:6? Your throne, O God, is forever and ever; A scepter of uprightness is the scepter of Your kingdom.” I pulled down my boxers and slid them off my legs. My shirt came off next. I was completely naked. “This is my upright scepter, God’s own tool.”

“Oh no! Not that!” She tossed her head back and forth, mumbling to herself. “It’s not right.” I increased the pace of my finger fuck. Her hips joined the tempo. I bent a knuckle in the direction of her clitoris. “Oooh, oooh, what’s that? The cramps are returning! Oh, I thought I was cured. Mr. Marcus, can’t you do something?”

I moved closer, removing my finger and placing my erection at the entrance to her cunt. “This is the heavenly cure you seek, my dear.” Her hands were at my chest, trying to keep me at bay.

“Ezekiel 7:16-17 Those who are moaning like doves of the valleys about their own sin. All hands will hang weakly with fear, and all knees will become weak as water. Relax, Chris, my dove.” She dropped her hands and let her legs fall to the sides. My hand inserted my throbbing dick into the outer flesh of her pussy.

“But Mr. Marcus, Psalms 125:3 says For the scepter of wickedness shall not rest upon the land of the righteous, So that the righteous will not put forth their hands to do wrong. Isn’t this wrong?”

“Doesn’t it feel right? Numbers 24:17 A scepter shall rise from Israel, And shall crush through the forehead of Moab, And tear down all the sons of Sheth. Accept my Jewish scepter and find holy peace.” And, in the process, I’d get a piece.

Her cunt lips parted as I pushed deeper into her. I continued, “Job 8:20-21 "Surely God does not reject the innocent or give strength to those who do evil. God will yet fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy.”

Chris was shouting but not laughing. With a rocking motion, I was making incremental progress.

“It doesn’t fit. Scepter or not, put your finger back in. That felt nice.”

“Hang in there, Chris. The world wasn’t built in a day.”

“You mean it’s going to take seven days to get that scepter of yours all the way in?” Finally, a smile at her lips.

Sweat dropped from my head and chest onto her black blouse.

“I don’t want to get that shirt of yours all stained with perspiration. You’ll be more comfortable if you take it off.”

“I am pretty hot.” She unbuttoned and slid the sleeves down, finally pulling it from beneath her body.

“And the bra.”

I pulled her forward so she could reach behind and unclasp. That let me slid in another inch.

“This was foretold in Lamentations 4:21, you know. The cup will come around to you as well, You will become drunk and make yourself naked,” she said.

“There is so much truth in the Bible.”

“Amen.” She wiggled her hips to accept more of my probing member.

I leaned on my elbows and palmed her breasts, pressing her nipples between my fingers. “Psalms 144:5 Bow thy heavens, O Jehovah, and come down: Touch the mountains, and they shall smoke.”

Her nipples and areola became enlarged with my fondling. “They are hot. It feels like they’re going to burst.” She pushed her chest up as I leaned down and sucked one, then the other.

“Luke 11:27-28 27 And it came to pass, as he said these things, a certain woman out of the multitude lifted up her voice, and said unto him, Blessed is the womb that bare thee, and the breasts which thou didst suck,” she quoted.

I seemed to be making progress easier.

“Oh dear God. I feel all gushy when you do that.” She was right. Turning her on with breast-play made penetration much easier. “Okay, you’re all the way in. I don’t feel anything!”

“Ecclesiastes 9:10 Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might. Hang on, Chris. This is your belated holiday gift.”

I started pumping in and out, straining to reach new depth with each stroke.

“Romans 16: 16 Salute one another with a holy kiss,” I said. My mouth found hers. It was open and needy. Her hands ran up and down my back. I couldn’t have been more turned on, yet her touch was taking me beyond previous limits. Chris wrapped her legs around me as we threw our loins at each other in a common heathen rhythm.

Chris was panting so hard she almost couldn’t speak. “The 23rd Psalms. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”

“My rod, my staff.”

“Your rod, your staff!”

Chris convulsed with a body-shaking orgasm. “Ooooh, dear God!”

“I think today’s Bible lesson is over,” I said. Loretta wanted Chris educated, not impregnated.

Her hands roamed lower, over my ass, down in between my thighs.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Like Ezekiel 36:9 says, You will be plowed, and seed will be planted in you.”

I had no memorized quote to contradict hers. “We don’t have to do this. We shouldn’t do this.”

She was riding me from below, thrusting herself on my penis, over and over. “Jeremiah 2:21 But I planted you as a special vine, as a very good seed. How then did you turn into a wild vine that grows bad fruit? You have a great vine, Mr. Marcus. Do you think I’m wild, that I grow bad fruit? How about those two melons in your hands?”

I slid my palms from her beasts. “Chris, we’ve done enough for one night.”

“We’re not done yet. Genesis 47:13-26 13 The hunger became worse.” An involuntary lurch of my hips was my body’s response to the fleeting touch of her fingertips on my scrotum.

“Stop it! This is hardly biblical.”

“Oh, but it is precisely biblical.” She took my balls in her hand “Luke 8:11 "This is what the story means: The seed is God's message.”

It was out of my hands now. My body shook as she moved under me. “Chris, I’m gonna -”

My dick spew hot cum deep inside her. Her legs fell back to the bed. We were both exhausted and sweaty.

“Surely goodness and loving kindness will follow me all the days of my life, And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever,” she whispered.

“Amen.”

###

Don’t forget, Loretta will want to thank Mr. Marcus. And, there’s Tara, whose Christmas gift was postponed.