Evensong Hallelujah

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Overwhelmed a man seeks redemption and healing.
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He stared at his empty luncheon plate. The fish and chips and pint of bitters had not eased his misgivings or quenched his need for relaxation and redemption. Memories of the Spanish sunshine had quickly faded replaced by his son's excuses, which had started even before he finished parking the motorhome in its designated spot on the farm. The promised work had not been done. He knew what that meant. The bills had not been paid and that foretold another trip to the bank and another slice of his savings gone. He wondered where he had gone wrong. He prayed for guidance as he swirled the remainder of his beer around the bottom of his glass and then downed it.

"Aye John, I think you need another." The words of his favorite barmaid broke through his morass. She had noticed his funk when he entered the pub and her heartfelt hug of welcome had done little to change his mood.

"Oh...Sure, thanks Vickie."

"Let me take your plate and glass." As she reached across the table she intentionally brushed her sweater-covered breast against his shoulder. Then she allowed his dirty cutlery to clatter to the floor. As she picked up the silverware, she made sure he had a good long view of her ass deftly outlined by her skintight yoga pants. "Sorry about that," she cooed as her left hand now rubbed back and forth across his shoulders. She enjoyed the fact that his body pushed back ever so subtly against her hand. "I had better get you that beer."

"You could stay here and give me a massage, Vickie," he replied with a chuckle.

Their eyes met. She smiled and snickered, "Unfortunately John, that's not a menu item." She quickly gathered up his dishes and walked towards the kitchen. He just watched her departing form and for the first time that evening he was not thinking about the farm or his family, but of a different form of redemption.

She placed the glass of bitters on the table along with an extra serviette and the bill. She lingered for a moment while John reached for his wallet. Glancing at the bill, he noticed that the second beer had been omitted. "You need a little extra to steady your nerves and the serviette has a suggestion for your evening," she said with a knowing smile.

He handed her a wad of notes indicating with a nod of his head that she should keep the change and then glanced at the serviette. There was a telephone number, xxxx xxx xxxx, and the name Annie. "She is a friend of mine," the waitress conceded with a smile when she saw him glance at the serviette. "She might be able to help with your needs."

His face ferruled in confusion, "I don't..."

"Perhaps you might want to give her a call." Vickie coaxed smiling. "She is a priestess of massage, John." Then she gathered up the wad of money, turned, and walked away.

"Thanks, Vickie, I think," he mumbled as he watched her perfect ass disappear behind the bar. He rose from his his chair, waved and with unheard thank you left the bar.

Late that afternoon he stared at the serviette beside the telephone. Several times his hand reached for the phone ready to say his well-rehearsed lines only to be drawn back by a lack of courage. Finally, desire and curiosity overcame his reluctance. He dialed.

"Hello," a soft voice answered, He could not remember the rest of the conversation, but an hour later, he was knocking softly on the door of a third floor Leeds walk-up. His eye caught the smiley face sticker on the top corner of the door and the words that surrounded it, "Church of Hallelujah Annie."

The door opened to a friendly greeting and a warm hug. He nervously handed her the bouquet of flowers and the requested donation. Before him stood a petite blond with a genuine and very inviting demeanor. "Hello John, I'm Annie." She was everything she had promised on the phone. "Just wash your hands in the bathroom to your left and then go into the bedroom, get ready, and lie face down on the bed.I will be with you shortly" She watched him silently turn down the hallway then she walked into the kitchen, placed the money in the cookie jar on the counter, and found a vase for the flowers. "He's a little older than my regular punter," she thought. "But he is considerate, I wonder how he will be?" Her hands shook a little with anticipation as she placed the flowers in the vase.

John raised his head and glanced at the mirror above the pillow and watched her crawl catlike onto the bed. Her palms made gentle circles on his back, her nails tantalized the insides of his thighs, and her fingers teased his balls. He in turn reached back with his hands to softy touch her legs and explore at the edges of her panties as she straddled him. "I think its time for your front rub." Her voice was husky.

She sling shot her bra across the room. It caught on the closet doorknob. He laughed. She smiled and started to rub the oil into his chest with soft circular motions. Her small, saucy breasts invited his touch. His lips found her pert nipples. She sighed.

Encouraged, his hands sought out her kneeling thighs and buttocks. His fingertips found the lace-covered lips of her labia and caressed. He felt her damp warmth. Slight stirring movements increased his access while her hands stroked his cock into rigid attention.

"Oh that feels so good," he moaned.

Her breathing quickened. "I'm cumming!" she gasped She stopped rubbing his cock and enjoyed his touch. Shuddering she pulled away from his fingers. Quickly straddling his chest she skillfully cradled his head with her ankles. This position put her back in control but still allowed his eyes and hands to explore her lace-covered ass. Her attention now returned to his cock.

Responding to her visual invitation, he tugged at the elastic edges of her black lace panties. Then his fingers gently but relentlessly moved beneath the lace restrictions to find her pussy. Languidly he rubbed her mons and her stokes slowed to match his rhythm. He felt her heat. Pushing against his hands and fingers, she encouraged his thumb to explore her wetness. Mutual stimulation increased in measured, rhythmic movements. John's hips bucked. Annie's back arched. There was a collective explosion of mutual joy.

They blissfully laid together. John hugged her and stroked her back. She snuggled against his chest. John took a deep breath and whispered. "Now I know why you are called Hallelujah Annie. I like worshiping in your church. May I become part of your congregation?"

"Always looking for new converts," she said in a teasing voice as she gently pushed away and rose from the bed. "Regular services are offered daily between 11 and 5. This special Evensong service was granted at a friend's request."

John just lay back in the bed and watched her black pantie covered ass disappear into the hallway. He sighed, "Hallelujah, redemption is sweet..."

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cruiser_2015cruiser_2015almost 5 years ago
A good but odd story

Good story, but why divert from sexy Vickie who sounds well worth having? Annie’s obviously just a prostitute and the story would read just as well without the strangely named church. Is there some significance in the church theme I’ve missed? Otherwise nice!

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