For The Love of All That's Holy

The office was closed for the day, one of those rare moments when they needed to clear everyone out to do some electrical maintenance. The entire building was covered in workers and electricians and there was no point trying to stick around the office with the power going off and on.

She had decided to take advantage of the unexpected free day to get some house cleaning done, especially the upstairs. The sheets needed to be washed, the towels changed, windows opened to let in the fresh air. The guest bedroom hadn't been touched since...

It had been several months. Almost a year. Grief can do strange things to a person. She hadn't even realized that she had been avoiding the second floor until felt the anxiety of climbing the stairs. This was where Patrick's office was, untouched. For some reason she hadn't even thought about it as she prepared to clean the guest room until it faced her like some chamber of mystery.

The entire upstairs still held his scent, even after all this time. They evoked unfathomably powerful memories, both good and bad. He'd been too much of a workaholic, something that she was convinced drove him to his early grave. Thoughts came unbidden of the time they had spent together, the fights over his long working hours mixed in with the joy of playful romps in his home office.

The guest room had been the scene for its fair share of marital pleasure as well. She had buried those thoughts deep, but couldn't prevent them from resurfacing as she stripped the sheets off the bed. She brought the linens to her face and inhaled deeply and imagined that she could smell him in them. They hadn't used the guest room often, but whenever he was able to get him out of his office they found it made for a very convenient place for a tryst.

She sighed. It was the first time in a long time that she had had such thoughts and embraced them. The memories brought more warmth than pain, finally. With a sigh, she allowed herself to cradle them with fondness. She hadn't allowed herself to think of Patrick in that way, but it seemed okay to indulge. It made her feel human again.

Now, though, Margaret looked down at the Drew boy with mixed emotions. She had seen him when he first came out on one pass by the window, but that's when he had still had his red swim trunks on. She had been so lost in her own thoughts and memories that she hadn't really taken too much notice. She had to take a triple-take to make sure that she was seeing what she thought she was seeing.

"Oh, my word!" she gasped.

Sure enough, he was now lying in the morning sun completely naked, every inch of his flesh glistening with freshly-applied lotion. She dropped the linens onto the floor and brought her hands up to her mouth in another gasp when he began double-fisting his long penis.

She was in utter shock. Surely he wouldn't be so bold as to touch himself out in public, for the entire world and God to see? Yet, here he was. Once more, he reached for the sunblock lotion.

It was inappropriate to watch, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. He applied the lotion along the entire surface, which was considerable. He was no longer concerned about any other part of his body. This wasn't for protection, this was for lubrication. He lingered across the head and then dipped his fingers down his balls and massaged them with the lotion.

Margaret had never seen anyone masturbate before. Patrick simply hadn't done it; she was sure of it. He had kept all of his carnal desires within the boundaries of marriage, and she had taken pride of satisfying his needs. He hadn't needed to masturbate; neither had she. She had never imagined anyone else doing it either. It just wasn't in her nature. She had heard that people would touch themselves, but she just couldn't imagine it.

Here, though, she didn't need any imagination. What he was doing was pornographic. Tommy Drew's actions shocked her to the core. She knew young men couldn't resist touching themselves, but they did it despite God's teachings. Tommy, of all people, knew better.

She closed her eyes and put her hands together in prayer. "Forgive him, Father," she intoned. "He knows not what he does."

She opened her eyes again to see that Tommy was thoroughly exploring his entire midsection. He was running his hands down his flat, muscular stomach, sliding his hands down so that the root of his cock was nestled in the crook of his fingers. It seemed like he was trying his best to avoid his shaft, but just couldn't help himself.

"Don't do it, Tommy," she whispered. She tried to will him to leave himself alone. She prayed for divine intervention that didn't look like it would come.

He kept rubbing his hips, which just soaked in the lotion. He continued to apply more to his hands, and then touch his body and spread it out over his skin. Once more, his flesh would glisten in the bright sunlight of the late morning.

Margaret watched as he visibly fought against himself. He kept trying to avoid touching those parts, but his erection simply wouldn't be ignored. Each time his hands passed over his shaft, they lingered longer. Each time he took them away, the time between his tight grips in his fist got shorter.

"That poor boy," she said aloud.

Her heart went out to Tommy. He was obviously trying so hard to be good, but the temptation had as much of a grip on him as his own two hands. She remembered what Patrick looked like when he had gotten into a groove, and knew that Tommy was soon going to be unable to stop himself.

Her fears were confirmed moments later when Tommy gave in and grabbed his dick with both hands. She could see the reaction all the way from her vantage point. His entire body stiffened, the six-pack muscles in his stomach contracting and his head rocking back slightly. She couldn't see his eyes through his sunglasses, but the rest of his face was screwed up in a sexual wince.

"Oh no, Tommy," Margaret pleaded in a near whisper. Her voice was dry and raspy.

Tommy began moving both hands up his cock until they rested, one on top of the other, hovering over the tip. Then, he slowly brought them back down towards his pelvis. The long cock disappeared inside his fists until they came to rest at the base. The head popped out the top of his upper hand, purple and slick.

Then he started all over again.

Margaret's eyes widened in a panic. He was going to do it. He was going to go all the way.

"Oh God, please stop him!"

She started panicking. She tried opening the window but many layers of paint had sealed it shut. She banged on the window to try to get his attention, but the music from his earphones kept him oblivious.

The fists came down harder this time. Then they raised faster than they had before. Down hard. Up fast.

"No, no, no, nonononononono!" she cried.

Sidestepping the laundry she had dropped on the floor, she raced down the stairs. She nearly tripped on the last step, but caught herself on the banister railing. The feeling of compulsion to stop Tommy - no, to save him - was as strong as anything she had felt in years.

She broke through the kitchen and opened the door straight into her forehead.

"Oh, funsticks!" she cried, but it didn't stop her. She yanked the door again, but this time the handle caught inside of her robe and pulled the cinch apart. Their houses were conjoined by only a small set of hedges that were sporadically placed along the property line. She ignored any sense of modesty and took a straight line between two hedges.

She launched herself into the back yard, calling out his name.

"Tommy!" she shouted. "Tommy!"

He didn't hear her. He was lost in his own sensations, completely oblivious to the fact that he was not, in fact, alone. The sensations running through his body was too good, too powerful.

There was a tickle under his balls, and a familiar sensation was resonating throughout his body. He briefly thought about stopping but even through his fog of lust he realized that he may not be alone for much longer. Plus, he could feel that this was going to be a total and complete orgasm that would leave him gloriously spent. Who knew when he'd have the opportunity again?

He let his guard down, giving himself over completely to the freedom of the moment.

His penis strained against his hands, the wide root opening them a little and the head pulsing in little gasps as it strained to penetrate through the other side. The train was coming and at first he didn't want to stop it. Then he couldn't stop it.

He wanted to see how far he could shoot. The last time he had come he had managed to get at least two feet straight up in the air. He wondered if he could beat that record.

A flurry of movement to the side distracted him, and he turned his head to see Mrs. Keenan racing towards him. Her robe was mostly open, large breasts and reddish-purple erect nipples bouncing side-to-side.

If she had been fully clothed he might have been able to stop. Maybe. As it was, though, Tommy loved women's breasts and Mrs. Keenan had never disappointed. This was the first time he'd seen so much of her. Normally she was covered almost to her neck with high-collared blouses.

Here she was, though. Her gorgeous tits were on display and it was as impossible for him to look away as it was to stop his hands. He kept stroking his cock as fast as he could and simply stared at her beautiful breasts.

Mrs. Keenan stopped just short of him and looked around, trying to find something. Somewhere in the back of his primate brain he wondered what she was looking for, but the rest of him didn't care. She had just given him the best possible treat to look at. Instinctively, he angled his long dick toward her in an unconscious aim towards her breasts. He imagined shooting further than he had before, splashing her chest.

He groaned. It was happening. He imagined his come dripping from her tits and dangling from her nipples.

The rush started.

Margaret heard his moan and knew what it meant. Didn't he have another towel around somewhere? A shirt? His trunks were too far away, darn it!

Without thinking, she bent over his cock and took the head in her mouth. She almost didn't get there in time. In the split second before she could wrap her lips around his head she saw the telltale throb and the beginnings of a white fluid launch towards her.

The first shot hit the top of her mouth with enough force to make her flinch. The boy had power that she could never have imagined. His penis seemed to cough in her mouth, each jump depositing more than she thought any male could ever produce. She swallowed as quickly as she could. It was imperative that she not miss a single drop.

Tommy started to pull away, but when he did a little dribble started to come out from the tip, and Margaret followed him to lick up the last drops. His body shook as the sensitivity around the head overwhelmed him. Satisfied that she had gotten all of it, she allowed herself to slump onto the blanket next to him.

"Mrs... Keenan?" Tommy asked when he could catch his breath. He was bewildered.

Modesty forced him to try to cover himself but his erection hadn't withered in the slightest, and his hands weren't big enough to hide his monster. It seemed to strain for Margaret even more, now that it had experienced her wonderful mouth.

She was out of breath too, possibly even more than Tommy. After all, she had just been running at full speed and stuffed a giant plug into her mouth before she could catch her breath.

"Praise Jesus!" she gasped, trying to gather air.

They both took a moment to take stock of their situation, calming down.

"That was close, Tommy," she said. "Too close."

Relief and stress colored her tone so that she came out sounding almost cross. It was confusing. Why would she do that and then sound angry about it?

Tommy couldn't take his eyes off her breasts, which were now on full display. The robe had opened completely now, and he could see more of her than he ever imagined. While she had been over at their house hundreds of times and even visited during the pool barbecues, she had never worn anything other than the most modest attire.

He hadn't realized her breasts were that big underneath all of that clothing. They were glorious.

Margaret saw where Tommy was looking. "Tommy!" she cried. "Shame on you!" She grabbed the collars of the robe and pulled them closed over her tits.

Now he was more confused than ever. "I'm... I'm sorry," Tommy stuttered. He realized that he was in trouble, but he didn't know why. He wanted to grab his trunks and get away, but he was too afraid to show Mrs. Keenan his dick again now that she had covered herself up.

Margaret suddenly saw through Tommy's eyes. Shame and guilt emanated from every glistening pore on his heavily-lotioned skin. The smell of coconut and perspiration hit her nostrils, and the woman inside of her responded despite herself.

In many ways, Tommy was still young, despite his age and the finely chiseled masculine body in front or her. Even at his best, Patrick had never looked or smelled so good. She felt an instant twinge of guilt thinking of him that way, and focused on trying to help Tommy understand.

"Look, Tommy, that was too close," she repeated herself. This time, though, her tone was soothing and comforting. "You almost spilled your seed on the ground!"

Tommy hung his head in shame. Only then did his erection feel like it was starting to subside. He had remembered hearing something about how God had killed Onan for letting his semen fall to the ground. It was fuzzy, though. After all, who really remembers every Bible verse, anyway?

"Yes, ma'am," Tommy said. He couldn't meet her eye.

"Tommy," Margaret said softly. "Tommy, look at me."

Tommy cast a sideways glance at her. "Have you ever done that before out here?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, never." What else could he say?

She felt a bit of relief. "And has your semen ever touched the ground?"

Tommy thought about how he had shot a couple feet into the air. He couldn't remember if it had landed on the ground or not. To be safe, he said, "No, I don't think so."

Margaret cocked her head. "You don't think so?" she asked.

"Does it count if I use a tissue and then miss the wastebasket?" Tommy looked at her, pleading.

Margaret thought about it for a second. "No, I don't think so, but it is unclean," she replied. "'Leviticus, Chapter 15, verse 2: When any man has an unusual bodily discharge, such a discharge is unclean.' And verse 17: Any clothing or leather that has semen on it must be washed with water, and it will be unclean till evening.'" Apparently some people could literally quote 'chapter and verse.'

Tommy was genuinely confused. "But a tissue isn't clothing or leather," he said.

Margaret shook her head. "That's not the point, Tommy," she said. "Your discharge is unclean, which makes the tissue unclean."

"Then what about your mouth?" he asked. She could tell from the look on his face that it was a genuine question. He seemed to be truly nervous that he had somehow hurt her.

She smiled and rested a hand on his thigh. His penis awoke again, and both of them noticed. She retracted her hand quickly.

"That's why I did what I did," she said. "Because I made you do it, it wasn't an unusual discharge. It's completely okay."

Tommy nodded slowly. He thought he understood, but the most important thing was that Mrs. Keenan was telling him that it was going to be okay. He looked down at his traitorous cock with profound sadness.

"I don't want to be unclean, Mrs. Keenan," he said. "I tried not to do it, but I felt so stressed and..."

He stopped talking, not wanting to say any more. He just stared into his lap. His cock had returned to its full staff again.

"Tommy, I don't want you to suffer God's wrath," Margaret said softly. "These temptations are very powerful when you're a young man. Believe me, I know."

Tommy looked at her. "You do?"

She nodded. "Of course. Mr. Keenan and I got married very young. I know all about how important it is not to deprive yourself because Satan can tempt you if you lose your fight with self-control. It's important for married couples to fulfill their duties to each other. That's why we got married so young. Well, one of the reasons anyway."

"So what do I do?" Tommy looked truly despondent.

Margaret made up her mind. "I'll help you," she said.

"How?"

"Like I just did," she shrugged. "Whenever you feel that you can't control yourself, just come to me. I'll make sure that you get rid of your semen in a clean way."

Tommy moved his hands away from his raging erection. "Like now?"

Margaret was genuinely surprised. "You mean, right now?" Patrick had never been able to rebound so quickly - even when he was Tommy's age.

Tommy nodded.

Margaret looked down at his cock. Penis, she reminded herself. He had a point. A very large one. She couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Sure," she said. "Just remember, you must finish in my mouth. Nowhere else."

Tommy nodded.

She leaned over and took the cock in her hand again, and lowered her mouth onto the head.

Tommy rested on his elbows so that he could watch her. He was too big for her, and they both knew it. But Margaret had ways of ensuring that Tommy was going to get the release that he needed.

At first it was simply a matter of getting used to something so new. Tommy was much larger than Patrick, both in length and girth. He also had far more texture underneath the skin. It gave him character and even its own personality.

She was just helping him, after all. She truly cared for Tommy. "Love thy neighbor," and all that. This was just a natural - if unusual - extension of that. Within moments, though, she began to allow her curiosity to take over.

This is only the second penis I've ever touched, she realized. Patrick had been her first and her only. It never dawned on her that there may be differences between them, much less other shapes or sizes.

She remembered watching Tommy from the window and how he had spread his fingers and gripped the base of his shaft by sliding them across his pelvis. She did so now, allowing her fingernails to gently scrape alongside his balls. They reacted sharply, causing her to suck in a little extra air through her nostrils in a small gasp.

Tommy reacted to almost everything she did. Each trace of her fingers, each flick of the tongue - it all just sent him into a sensory overload. He moaned and his breath was heavy. At first she thought he was making fun of her. Patrick had never made such noises or had reacted so strongly to her before.

She shot him a look, suspicious. The look on his face, though, meant that she had nothing to worry about. She watched him stare at her, his mouth open in a mixture of disbelief and open amazement.

"Gosh, Mrs. Keenan," he said. "I've never felt anything like this in my life!"

She took him out long enough to say, "See? Good things come to those who follow in God's path."

She took him back in her mouth, and she felt his hips press upwards. He wanted to try to get more of his erection into her mouth, but she knew there wasn't much more room to fit him in.

She settled across his thigh and got more comfortable. Her hands were able to touch him more, and fortunately there was a lot more for her to touch. He seemed to have endless secrets to discover.

Perhaps most surprising was just how much she loved his taste. The coconut oil was strong but underneath the flavor a unique taste emerged. He tasted of youth and energy, of life.

The boy was blessed. She had to admit it. If anything, the proof of God was in her hands - literally. She had both of her hands wrapped around his shaft and the head as far in her mouth as he would go, and there was still some left over. He was mostly straight as an arrow, but she could sense a strong curve whenever he flexed in reaction to something she was doing.