Religious Nut

She spun around and drew Max closer and closer to her, now allowing his hands to slide down her back and over her shapely, velvet-covered buttocks, then back up again. As much as she was enjoying the feel of his arousal against her, she wanted to really feel it, but that was surely forbidden by her sect.

Or was it?

Miriam engaged in a hasty mental attempt to recall the exact language from the teachings. They didn't say anything about whether the men she was with had to be fully dressed, right? As long as she remained fully dressed, then what was the issue? No one from her sect was present, of course, but yeah, it made sense. As long as she kept her gown on, she wasn't doing anything wrong.

Sure. Awesome. She was satisfied.

"Can I unzip you a little bit?"

He nodded a meek "Yes."

Miriam slowly unzipped Max's black slacks, and danced against him for a couple of minutes with his fly open.

"Hmm. Are those the boxers from the striptease last night?"

"Uh-huh."

"You like those, don't you?" She loved asking him questions that she knew made him grow flustered. "All right if I tug your slacks down?"

He nodded again. She gently dragged the trousers past his hips until they rested around his ankles, then sensually slid her fuzz-covered breasts against the bulge in his boxers as she rose to her full height again.

"This is kinda like your little striptease from last night, huh?" She flashed him a knowing smile.

"Uh..."

"Except this time I get to do it, instead of just watching you do it. Maybe I should get out some of those fake bills again?"

She twirled him around, enjoying how the flimsy fabric of his boxers was entirely useless at preventing his hard-on from flapping left and right.

"Or maybe I should get some real bills?"

This was nice, but she wanted to feel his manhood even closer against her body.

"I could reach into your wallet, but it's, uh, around your ankles at the moment." She grinned again. So naughty! But the way she saw it, she still hadn't done a single thing wrong. And what she was about to do wasn't wrong either, right?

"Can I... uh... pull your boxers down?"

Max nodded with a mixture of elation and terror, but Miriam patted him on the head reassuringly. The thin white cotton slid down his thighs with ease, and then SPROING! Out popped the nicely hardened, circumcised appendage that she'd been hoping to see.

Miriam proceeded to bend down and rub her chest against his member, savoring the sensation of it nudging and slipping over the soft velvet. It was perfectly OK that she was rubbing herself against a man's exposed penis, because she was still doing it all through her dress, right?

"A woman's never touched you like this before, huh?"

"Uh... no, uh..."

"It feels good, huh?"

He nodded his approval again.

"Here, uh... I wanna do something for you that I think you're gonna like even more, OK?"

"OK."

Miriam sat down on her sofa, so that her chest was even in height with Max's crotch. Then she delicately placed his penis in between her soft, fuzzy breasts, and gently pushed her massive glands together, wrapping them around his cock.

There we go. Nothing like the sensation of nuzzling a man's swollen penis between her hefty bosom, was there?

And nothing wrong with this either, right? They weren't even kissing! She was fully dressed from head to toe. Totally OK.

Miriam placed her hands underneath her breasts -- those breasts so biologically suited for the motherhood that she knew would come her way one day -- and ever-so-gently began moving them up and down against his shaft.

She marveled at this feeling she'd almost forgotten: a warm, stiff penis filling up with fluid. Glancing down, she observed a droplet of Max's pre-cum gurgle in and out of his tip.

"That's it... Miriam's gonna take care of you, OK?"

It seemed like he was close. She didn't want it to happen too soon.

"You can make a little mess... it's OK, I'll just wash my dress afterwards... just enjoy yourself..."

She was impressed that he'd already lasted this long -- probably a combination of nerves and anxiety that was counterbalancing the arousal and allowing her to extend the pleasure.

On the one hand, Miriam wanted her tender little tittyfuck to last for hours and hours, so that she could revel in the sensation of benevolent dominance and complete power over her desperate virgin cutie. But on the other hand, she wanted to finally give him a gift she knew he'd always remember, from a woman he surely never anticipated would have been willing to give it to him.

More than anything, she wanted to bring him to completion and let him achieve the pleasure she knew he'd deserved to have experienced long before that night. She could sense that she had just about brought him there.

Miriam sped up her pace for a few seconds. She felt a distinctive twitch from Max's shaft, and heard a faint sputtering sound, as one initial little squirt landed about an inch below her neckline.

"That's it... just relax..."

After an odd pause, Max let out a massive shot of cum, which flew almost straight up into the air and landed right back onto his tip and into Miriam's velvet cleavage. She immediately slowed down the speed of her stimulation by about 75 percent. Time to allow him to enjoy the moment to the fullest.

"Very good, just let it all out..."

Miriam continued to gently move her fuzzy breasts against the sensitive area beneath his tip in her motherly, nurturing way, maximize his climax as only she knew how, letting him drench her chest with his ejaculate, which, due to gravity's pull, was accumulating between his shaft and the velvet, forming a nice, slimy groove for his penis to slide in as it contracted and released. All the while, she continued to bend and bob her torso, relishing her own ability to milk him dry.

"Just cum on my dress... you're doing great..."

The creamy deposits grew smaller, although she could still feel him attempting to release for at least 30 more seconds, the gooey layer making a funny squishing noise as she continued to calmly glide up and down.

"OK... that was nice, wasn't it?"

She let go of her breasts, tugged on an unsoiled portion of her gown, and affectionately wiped up the drenched sides of Max's penis with it.

"You've never had an orgasm with a woman before, huh?"

He shook his head no.

"That's one you're probably going to remember, huh?"

He nodded yes.

Then she shifted to Max's right, stood up, took a couple of steps back, and looked down at the sticky mess that now coated her bosom, gazing admiringly, and somewhat anxiously, at her own handywork. Miriam didn't remember her old sexual partners expelling loads quite that large, but... to be fair, it had been a while. She'd obviously emptied out Max nice and good!

"Yeah... um... I need to clean this off somehow." But what was the best way to handle it? "Just hang out here, I'll... uh... be in the bathroom." She tiptoed her way past a still-catatonic Max.

As she closed the bathroom door behind her, and pondered her options in the mirror, Miriam suddenly had an idea. She didn't want to let that giant semen stain bake and harden onto the surface of such a fabulous dress. So, instead of pulling her dress up over her head in order to wash it later, she devised a fun, off-the-wall, slightly bolder alternative.

Miriam stepped into the shower, the heels of her leather boots clanking loudly against the linoleum surface, then reached over to the knob, waited for the water that began flowing from the faucet to warm up to a nice, comfortable temperature, pivoted her body so that she would be directly facing the showerhead, and then turned the overhead stream to full blast.

She instinctively thrust her head back as the collection of little jets began pelting her chest and penetrating the velvet, causing Max's cum to slither down her breasts and toward her belly. Realizing that it would quickly wash away (wasn't that the idea?), she impulsively, hastily scooped up a chunk with her right index finger and brought it to her lips.

The water and cum haphazardly wandered down over her crotch and past her leather boots, seeping through the velvet and making it cling to her skin even more tightly than it already had been when it was dry. She'd never taken a shower with her dress on before, but she was quickly discovering that the sensation of the water quietly trickling its way between the cloth and her skin was pleasantly... erotic.

After about 30 seconds or so, the front of her dress had become smooth, glossy, and almost black in color, while the sleeves of her dress remained dark green, fuzzy, and bone dry. She massaged the velvet that covered her tits until all traces of Max's pleasure were rinsed off for good. Then she spun around and let the jets soak the back of her dress.

OK, this was it, right?

But almost instinctively, her right hand ever-so-slowly inched its way toward her soaked crotch, as if it had a devious little mind of its own, and gave her a couple of quick rubs down there, pressing the surprisingly comfortable nylon inner lining against her skin. Whether she wanted it to or not, a faint tingle began to form, like the first few pebbles of an avalanche -- the kind of tingle she knew was more than just a tingle.

Technically, she wasn't touching her clit -- she was only touching her dress, and her dress was touching her clit, so really, she wasn't actually pleasuring herself, right? Some airtight logic right there. But another part of Miriam quickly realized that she was already past the point of no return, and that no amount of mental willpower was going to prevent her body from going where she both wanted and didn't want it to go.

How long had it been since she'd last masturbated? Five months? Six months? Eight months? She'd completely lost track. To go from doing something practically every day -- sometimes twice a day, even -- to not doing it at all... but it was just a couple of little strokes, that was all, no big deal, nothing to see here folks...

The fingers on her right hand continued their relatively light kneading of that very special patch of velvet, while the rivulets continued their steady path along her shapely frame, giving her a steamy, pressurized, vertical baptism of sorts, her sleeves having grown damp by this time as well.

In her pre-conversion days, she usually needed at least a few minutes to work her way up to it, but this time, it was happening much, much too fast. In an unintentional way, she'd primed herself for it. She desperately wanted to Stop! Stop! Stop! but neither her hand nor her clit seemed to be listening.

Speaking of listening, a small thought poked through the fog: Was she going to make any noise? Maybe she was already making noise -- she didn't even know at that point. Max was welcome to listen in from the living room, of course (the thought of him hearing her moans was turning her on even harder), but if the apartment next door ever figured out what she was up to... ugh, she would never hear the end of it.

Well, Miriam was rapidly losing the ability to think, as she was far too close to cease its arrival or even dictate how it would happen. This wasn't about to be a mere washing machine orgasm. All she could think was "oh yes oh yes oh yes oh yes" and "here it comes here it comes here it comes..."

Standing with her back toward the water, which was steadily, expertly massaging her shoulders, Miriam placed her left hand on her buttocks and clutched it. Just as she tilted her head back into the stream, giving her curly brown hair its first proper dousing, and just as her spine pushed her chest upward, she let out a violent, unexpected "Uhn!," and felt a volcanic explosion of pleasure rip through her entire body.

She'd really tried not to come but... she just hadn't been able to help herself. Whoops.

Her breasts jiggled uncontrollably beneath the cloth and as she let the water pour into her quivering mouth. Then she brought her left hand around from the back of her dress up to those magnificent tits and playfully squeezed the velvet encasing them, occasionally pinching her nipples through the fabric.

"Uhn! Uhn!"

Her fingers continued to knead and knead the wet cloth between her legs as the water slid over her convulsing figure. Mmmmmm. Such a glorious, sinful, cleansing orgasm! Leaning back against the flow of the shower, covered from head to toe in velvet, Miriam couldn't help but let herself enjoy it and enjoy it.

All the myriad sources of arousal -- the warm water sliding down the velvet gown that had transformed itself into a soft, tantalizing second skin, the fresh memory of Max unloading his nut onto her dress (she could still feel his warm, twitching virgin member between her mounds), the months and months she'd spent denying herself -- had apparently only contributed to the surge of ecstasy that had finally been given the opportunity to course through her.

After about a minute had passed, she wondered if the initial intensity was about to dissipate, and then a second wave hit her even harder -- another earth-shattering eruption of repressed, pent-up desire. Her knees almost buckled as she just barely managed to place her left arm against the tiles in time to steady herself.

"Hnnn! Hnnn!"

She kept thinking about shell-shocked Max and his discharging cock and that beautiful, transcendent tittyfuck and how sexy and wet and alive she felt, as both the spasms and the water washed over her. Wave after wave after wave -- it was practically a religious experience.

At least eight more minutes went by before Miriam finally turned off the shower, and found herself standing there bewildered, lightheaded, exhausted, gasping for breath, a batch of tiny streams dripping quietly from her dress onto the tub.

The shame began to rise within her. Had she gone too far? One thing was for certain: her dress had surely been rinsed nice and clean.

A cloud of steam escaped through the sliver of the bathroom door as Miriam opened it just enough to let her voice through.

"Uh, Max?"

"Yeah."

"Could you hand me one of my shirts and one of my skirts? Just... there's a brown dresser over by the closet, if you go in the top shelf, you'll see my shirts. Then if you look in the closet, you'll see one of my skirts. Just pick one and hand it to me, any of them should be fine."

He found the long-sleeve denim shirt he'd seen her wear the first time he met her, and a beige skirt that didn't look familiar, and he handed them to her through the door crack.

She came out of the bathroom. "Uh... you should probably take off."

"OK."

"So you probably shouldn't... tell anyone about this."

"No, uh... I think I... I understand."

"OK, have a good night." She gave Max an intense, somewhat confused hug, and then he left.

*****

Max and Miriam only saw each other one more time after that, at a barbecue at Heidi and Eric's, and they didn't really say much to each other. He figured she was probably not too proud of what she'd done, and that she didn't want to be reminded about the whole thing, so he didn't push the issue.

A couple of months later, Max learned from Heidi that Miriam had moved to the East Coast, as there was supposedly a higher population of the members of her sect living there, and Miriam figured the move would greatly increase her odds of landing a husband she might have actually found attractive enough to marry.

So that, as they say, was the end of that.