Church Luvin'

"And that was how Janice ended up with a donkey dick up her ass."

"GODDAMIT, CHOLLIE!! STOP PLAYIN' 'ROUND WID' IT!! PUT IT IN!!"

Miriam Thompkins was too through with Charles Nelson Leone. He was toying with her pussy from behind using the tip of his cock when, by her reckoning, he ought to have been using it as a ramrod.

The two of them had sneaked upstairs from the "nigger" balcony after the conclusion of church services at the First Bapticostal Church of God. Scores of parishioners, black and white, were downstairs socializing—separately, according to the laws of East Louisiana in 1844. Charlie's friend (and owner) Ben Leone had sneaked off to a basement closet where he'd scheduled a tryst with his cousin Janice. In a different basement closet Jake Leone had Pete Harkness' sister Jennie on tap. Charlie and Miriam, slaves from different farms, squeezed up into the church sub-belfry singly after Miriam poked her tongue into her cheek during the service and rolled her eyes skyward to signal a meet. The small room was a tight fit.

Miriam's two sisters (the three were triplets) were under strict orders to cover for an absence Miriam estimated would take no more than ten minutes. Church service or no, Miriam's pussy required attention. Charlie happened to be in attendance that Sunday with his mother and siblings. He didn't attend church often. Miriam thought this might be her only chance at him.

Up in the church sub-belfry, Miriam's skirt was scooched up around her waist. Her rounded, naked ass was on full display. Charlie's cock bulged outwardly from a crease in his rugged pantaloons, twelve inches of solid muscle striving to invest itself of the fragrant crease in Miriam's groin. He gripped his penis by its base as he painted her southern cleft with the aromatic juices oozing from her chocolate vagina, coating his pud in her opulence. His purple-black dick pulsed virulently.

"WE AIN'T GOT MUCH TIME, CHOLLIE. If I'd knowed you 'uz gwine play 'round wid it like some kid, I'd-a axed somebody else!"

"We ain't never did it before, Miri. Dis de fust time! If I jist put it in quick, ah'm-a cum. Does you wants dat? An' den you-a go back an' tells your sisters I cain't fuck."

"AH'M-a do dat ANYWAY, Chollie. What dat got to do wit' you? If I wasn't already ready to fuck, I wouldn't-a axed you to follow me up here! You sees how wet ah'm is!"

"You IS mighty wet, gal. You blowin' bubbles!" Charlie chuckled.

"DAT'S RIGHT, NIGGA. An' you ain't tendin' 'em proper! PUT IT IN, DOGGONEIT!! An' let's finish up before my Ma comes lookin' for me."

She preened upward on her tippy toes to offer him a better angle of insertion. Charlie released his grip on his cock as Miriam's labia gaped open. With the barest trace of a thrust, Charlie's muscular dick disappeared into her hole. Miriam groaned with satisfaction. Her head floated backward onto her shoulder blades as she suppressed a scream of wanton fervor.

"FINALLY!"

She hilted him in one go. When he withdrew, his entire cock was coated in her crystal effervescence—steamy, hot and bubbling. Her pussy dripped with urgency. Charlie plunged forward to tap her cervix again, luxuriating in her heat and the newness of their intercourse. This was always the best time—that first cruise up the slippery pink baby chute of a pretty girl.

Miriam began to tremble. Her muscles stood out in contrast to her normally svelte skin. She hadn't been kidding. She was already on the verge of release not ten seconds in.

"Not yet, Priscilla!! Not yet!!" Miriam importuned silently.

(Priscilla was the given name of Miriam's pussy. Miriam spoke to Priscilla often as if Priscilla were a real person.)

"This is gonna be quick!" Charlie thought grimly.

He gripped her ass and roiled his dick in conjunction with her increasingly strident pelvic ululations.

In truth, Miriam had been building a foundation for Priscilla's detonation all throughout the church service. Ignoring the sermon, Miriam's mind drifted. She fondly recalled her encounter with Bennett Leone the month before despite feeling hugely put upon by its abrupt conclusion. The details of that tryst were fresh in her mind. Young Master Leone was downstairs just now, sitting in a pew with his family. She could see his unruly shock of rusty red hair from her seat in the balcony.

She remembered how he'd fucked her roughly that night at the swimming hole, slamming his dick the length of her cunt with manly precision as her sisters looked on. He'd fucked Beulah and Dinah, too, before standing up to Priscilla's challenge. Miriam mounted him and gave as good as she'd gotten. Even now she could feel Ben's testicles flopping against her taint as she rocked him from her mount atop his purpled cock. They'd assailed each other that night, weaving an intricate web of fuck thunder that served Miriam's masturbatory fantasies for weeks afterward.

"FUCCCCCK...MEEEEEEEEEEE. FUCCCCCCKKKKKK!! MEEEEEEEE!!"

It was a good thing that Miriam hadn't given voice to her silent remembrances, lest the church services be disrupted with scandal.

Priscilla heard Miriam's salacious musings, though, and responded accordingly. She gushed alive, overflowing with the aromatic juices of Miriam's private lust.

Miriam anticipated this problem. Some weeks back she'd allowed her attention to wander during church services in much the same manner. The result had been a large, wet stain on the back of her church dress—a wetness that she didn't notice until she returned from her secret world of sexual fantasy. As services concluded she'd immediately employed her sisters to block the view of onlookers while she exited the sanctuary. She'd promptly raced to the first available bench and sat there while the blotch dried.

Miriam had been mortified that day. Her sisters just laughed.

Ever resourceful, Miriam now came to church with a thick cotton pad situated under her dress between Priscilla and her seat. Priscilla could still drip during the sermon, but most of her issue would be sopped up. Only the front of Miriam's bloomers would wetten. This, she thought, was an acceptable compromise, especially insofar as, with proper positioning, that leak wouldn't stain the front of her dress.

Charlie Leone sat with his family in another section of the 'nigger' balcony. He was dressed in his work clothes. He didn't have much else. As Miriam floated at plateau, unable to complete Priscilla's desire with mere remembrance fantasy, Charlie's attention, too, wandered. He peered about the church sleepily, wondering when this dreary 'white folks' sermon would come to an end.

Something unusual caught his eye.

It was Miriam Thompkins. She was gazing intently in his direction, hoping to attract his attention. He saw her, but he didn't see her. It was the cheek poke that disrupted his absent-minded reverie. Had he actually seen that? In church?

Slowly, he allowed his eyes to drift up to hers. Maybe she was just cleaning her teeth. Maybe he'd mistaken her intent. Their eyes met.

There it was again!

Miriam drove her tongue into her left cheek twice to simulate female fellatio. Everybody knew what the cheek poke meant. Charlie met her gaze seeking confirmation. What he received by way of reply was the "HOW MANY TIMES IS I GOTS TO OFFER BEFORE YOU SAYS YES?" look. Her non-verbal communication was clear. Miriam followed this with a surreptitious nod to the sub-belfry upstairs.

A BOOTY CALL!! IN CHURCH!! There was pussy in the offing! Charlie's face broadened into a wide grin.

"I gots to start comin' to church mo' often!!"

Miriam rolled her eyes.

"It's about TIME."

She'd been trying to attract his attention for at least a half hour now.

Charlie responded with another cheek poke, a single, into his left cheek. Miriam nodded demurely. The meeting was set.

Of course, Ben had already given Charlie the details of his conquest of the Thompkins triplets. He'd fucked the shit out of all three girls (by his telling) and left them rapturously unconscious at the swimming hole, dripping penis honey from every orifice. And he was going to do it to them again the first chance he got. Did Charlie want in on the action?

What does one say to an offer like that? Charlie accepted.

Miriam's church foray changed things a bit. It bypassed Ben's introduction, cutting out the middleman. Miriam's cheek poke booty call was Charlie's chance to "tap dat ass" on his own terms.

Charlie didn't expect to see Ben after church. He knew that Ben would probably be doin' it to some girl down in the basement. (Ben gave Charlie all those details, too.) Here, now, was a chance for Charlie to surprise Ben with a church fuck story of his own. The chief triplet had actually given him the cheek poke!! Charlie's penis stirred.

"How much longer is dis guy gon' preach!!?!" Charlie wondered with exasperation.

After the final benediction Charlie waited in his seat while his mother, siblings and the other Negroes cleared the balcony. He pretended to get in the line to descend the stairs but he lingered back, allowing anyone and everyone to take his spot in line. He'd already seen Miriam dart behind a column to a hallway leading to the belfry ladder. He kept a sharp eye to see if anyone had noticed her. No one had.

Her two sisters were eyeing him. They obviously knew of Miriam's plans. Charlie gave them a knowing smile.

"I'm gon' fuck yo' sister. I'm gon' fuck de SHIT out'n her."

They seemed to be a bit overly pleased at this unspoken but clearly communicated news. Charlie was a little perplexed. Most girls sneer when another girl's insidious plans come to fruition. Dinah and Beulah seemed positively giddy. Was something going on that he didn't know about? The triplets hadn't given him any indications prior to this. He'd seen them on occasion and come away with not so much as a wink. Charlie became slightly suspicious.

"Sumpn's goin' on."

He waited until the balcony cleared, even deigning to descend the staircase himself before declaring (within earshot of everyone milling about):

"I fo'git my Bible upstairs. Be right back."

No one thought it strange that a black man who couldn't read had brought a Bible to church. Charlie ascended the stairwell two steps at a time. His disappearance was soon forgotten in the jocularity of the after church fellowshipping.

Charlie arrived in the sub-belfry to find an impatient Miriam Thompkins, arms crossed and feet tapping, after the manner of black women who have something to do and someplace to be and not enough time to do both. She looked past him to see if he'd been followed. Charlie closed the trap door in the floor behind him. Only then did Miriam turn, scooch her dress up and pull her bloomers to the floor. Charlie was taken aback.

"I ...I... thought you 'uz gwine..." he stammered.

"You thought I 'uz gwine suck yo' dick?" Miriam countered. "We ain't got time fo' dat right now. Take too long. Too many people around. I need YOU...to...you know."

"To...what?"

"To FUCK ME, Chollie. Don't play dumb. Is ah'm wagglin' my tooncey in de air fo' nuttin'?"

"Me? Here?"

"Boy! Is you wants de poosy or ain't you! I can git somebody else."

"I...I..." Charlie stammered again.

"You ain't want no poosy. Somebody lied to me."

Miriam reached down and resolutely pulled her bloomers up.

"No, I'll take it. I'll take it!" Charlie assured her.

Miriam stopped re-dressing.

"Well?"

Charlie stepped to her and pulled her bloomers back down. In the process the aroma of her sex became evident. His dick, already prickly with the prospect of penetration, lumbered awake. It found the crease in his pantaloons and peeked out without assistance. Miriam saw it emerge. She gripped his pud, twisted and squeezed. In seconds his cock bloomed erect, pouring forth like a hooded forest cobra.

"Hmmmmph," Miriam observed. "At least dey ain't lie 'bout dat much. You do gots a big 'un."

"Who is 'dey'?" Charlie asked.

"Nigga, don't axe dumb questions. You see dis?"

(Here she pointed to her pussy with her middle finger.)

"PUT...YOUR...DICK...IN...HERE. Dass all you needs to know."

She preened up on her toes to expose Priscilla more fully. Charlie could sense the heat emanating from Miriam's hairy babymaker. She didn't appear to require much foreplay.

Priscilla was a snapper.

Downstairs in the church basement, Bennett Leone was already mounted over Janice Leone's freckled ginger ass. Her huge crop of crimson pubic hair bulged outward from her vulva giving the impression that he was fornicating with a bear cub. Ben aimed the tip of his cock into her mass of curly labial tresses hoping to find a vagina at the bottom of it. It seemed an interminable passage, fraught with peril for the uninitiated.

Once past her silky jungle, however, Jannie's vaginal credentials were unparalleled. Her pussy ranked up there with the best of them. It was fresh and warm and wet. It contrasted nicely with Jannie's outwardly frosty demeanor. Ben fucked her from behind. He reached around front, using his thumb and forefinger to masturbate her engorged super-clitoris like a man, just as she'd taught him. He pulled her clitoral foreskin back and forth over her penile nub. This sensation, in concert with his thick, intrusive penis, wafted the girl aloft into an insensate realm of carnality where she lingered and lingered, sampling the electric impulses to be found there. Bennett used her pussy to masturbate his dick, twirling circlets into her love canal as she suckled his thrusts. They were old hands at this. Sunday was their day to re-acquaint themselves.

Unlike Miriam up in the sub-belfry, Jannie was in no hurry. It would be a week before she could meet with Ben like this again. They'd successfully fucked in this manner so often that the fear of discovery was a distant memory.

When Jannie felt herself nearing the tipping point she simply eased her pussy off Ben's cock, turned and sucked him. She knew he wouldn't cum until she was ready.

On his dick was the aroma of her carnal universe. Succulent. Heady. Deeply arousing. It was addictive.

She slobbered bubbles along his shaft, then stood and pointed his dick into her stinkness.

"It needs some seasoning," she reasoned.

There was a marked difference between Jannie's rectum and her poochipap. From Ben's perspective her ass was drier, firmer, less accommodating. He had to be well lubricated before making the trip up her poop chute. It was work.

By contrast Jannie's pussy always smiled open and never failed to recommend her clitoris as a friend and confidante, and well worthy of his attention. Too, she was slippery in a fun sort of way. If one tripped and fell into her, her charming laugh erased all elements of dismay.

"Whoops! Take care, now! Let's try it again!!"

From Jannie's perspective her ass and her pussy were flip sides of the same organism. Both required thickness, friction and motion to prosper.

"I'm full. That's the thing."

Jannie's clit was an entirely different slice of pie. It raged and burgeoned like a small penis, complete with all the attributes and detriments of said protuberance. It had thickness, length and a crown. Jannie could waft it aloft at will. Men who encountered it visually for the first time were often shocked to see it rising like a spring mushroom from beneath Jannie's crimson carpet.

"There's a pussy down there, too." Janice often reminded her lovers, queefing its scent to soften the stunning visual effect of her throbbing mini-member.

She enjoyed getting blown—man or woman, it made no difference. Janice would lay on her back and open her legs wide so that she might watch whomever chose to service her. She imagined the ridicule she might endure if she were a man with such a small, stubby penis. Instead, she enjoyed the amazement her lobster claw clitoris evoked. It bobbed at the apex of her cleft, preening for tongue. And if no mouth closed upon it, the friction/pressure of a furry pubis served almost as well, as long as a huge dick encumbered her vaginal passage in tandem. Jannie had the best of both worlds.

Just now she could feel Ben's dick surging faster and faster still inside her bottom. Her ass cheeks wobbled and flattened with each powerful thrust.

"Not yet!!"

She eased up off his dick, leaving it throbbing manically in the air.

"I'm gonna suck it, OK? And then you do me," she murmured aloud.

This was not a request.

Jannie knelt and took Ben's dick into her mouth.

As Buck Harness' niece, Jennifer Harkness wasn't family per se. Sure, she called Abigail Leone Harkness 'auntie', but that title accrued from marriage, not blood.

Jake Leone didn't care either way. She had a pussy, didn't she? What else mattered?

Back in the day, the two of them had been chicken fighting partners at the Thompkins swimming hole before a group of parents banned the game outright. Jake remembered that one time where he, Ben, Tommy Thompkins, Leo Green, Pete Harkness and a few other teens convinced a number of the local girls, black and white, to chicken fight in the nude. After some trepidation, one of the black girls stripped naked, followed by a few others. Finally the white girls doffed their clothing to avoid being called 'yellow'.

Jake was amazed to see his partner, Jennie, boldly splashing about in the buff. She wasn't grown yet. Her titties best resembled a set of overly large nipples lacking heft or sway. 'Mosquito bites' she called them. Her bush, too, was a work in progress. Despite its deep brunette coloration, it didn't cover her entire puss; one could still see patches of white skin beneath. (This wasn't true of any of the Leone girls, all of whom sported full-bush pussies and wobbly breasts as they entered their teens.)

When Jennie mounted his shoulders and he could feel her vagina pressing against his neck, Jake almost swooned. His penis ballooned erect. Though he sought to hide it beneath the watery surface, Jennie noticed his boner and called it to the attention of the other girls. Then everyone, male and female, had a good laugh at Jake's expense.

Jake and Jennie defeated Leo Green and Dinah Thompkins in the first round of chicken fighting that day. Jake's erect penis touched Leo's penis (also erect) during the mash up, causing Leo to fall over backward in shock. Tommy Thompkins and Polly Lynn Bannister subsequently defeated Jake and Jennie in the second round.

After the loss, Jake attempted to keep Jennie astride his shoulders purely for the feel of her naked ass against his skin. Jennie wiggled free of his grip and spent the rest of that day avoiding him. He seemed just too eager to 'accidentally' touch her with his penis. She'd thought it cute at first. Not so much later on.

Much had transpired between that summer day seven years ago and this.

Firstly, Janice Leone spilled the beans about the naked chicken-fighting contest. Since the black boys present had witnessed white girls naked (although none of them had taken white girls as chicken-fighting partners), coed swimming had been summarily banned.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!!" white fathers thundered at their sons. "LETTIN' NIGGERS SEE YOUR SISTERS BUCK NEKKID!! EVER' LAST ONE O' YOU COULDA GOT RAPED!! YOU KNOWS HOW NIGGERS IS!!"

Secondly, Jake Leone inadvertently impregnated his cousin Patrice McNulty, who subsequently married and moved away to Tennessee.

Thirdly, Jennie's uncle Buck married Jakie's cousin Abigail, making Jennie an erstwhile member of the Leone clan. She was, as yet, unaware of the initiation fee into that august tribe.