Sunday Best Ch. 01

"Try and relax," he soothed, rubbing gently on my ass cheeks with both hands and holding his position until I settled down.

No sooner had I followed his advice than he began to push further into me. I could feel him moving deeper and deeper inside my ass, exploring uncharted places and bestowing new pleasures on me. After a few seconds his hips came up against my butt, marking the deepest point of penetration, and then, slowly at first, he began to pump. Soon one of his hands reached round to toy with my clit. Having claimed that territory, his fingers moved inside, searching for and finding my most sensitive spot. Stars began to cloud my vision, the sensations from my pussy and my ass combining to drive me to new highs of bliss. But he didn't stop there. His hands moved all over, fondling my ass, cupping my boobs, tweaking my nipples.

And all the while his cock kept pumping my ass, in and out like some kind of piston.

He was right about enjoying watching events in the mirror, too. Watching my expressions and his, seeing how his hands moved over my body, how my body moved in response to his caresses and thrusts, just made it all the more thrilling. My vanilla husband would never dream of such a thing.

My pleasure built steadily and orgasm after orgasm shook my body. I felt overwhelmed by having a strong, virile young man take me in ways I had never been taken before. And yet still he didn't cum. I can only guess that his previous two orgasms had done wonders for his staying power. I don't know how long he ravaged my ass for. Probably no more than fifteen long minutes looking back on it, but eventually my arms and legs, my whole body, started to tremble and weaken. He must have felt my resolve flagging, because he reached forward once again to cup my right boob, long now escaped from the cup of my bra, using it to pull me against him in one, last frantically rough set of thrusts.

Yet another orgasm shook me, causing me to collapse and topple forwards. At that moment I felt something warm filling me up inside, just as he cried out in triumphant pleasure. Although I had never experienced anything quite so deliciously decadent, I felt unimaginable relief that it was all over.

"Praise the Lord!" I gasped, gulping air. "That was amazing!"

"Amen to that," Dick replied with a chuckle. We lay, spooned in silence for another minute or two before either of us spoke again.

"You were incredible, Laura," his warm, English tones purred into the shell of my ear. "But I reckon three times is enough for one day, even for me."

"Mmm..." I groaned in agreement, my mind still not fully functional. It may have been only three times for him, but I'd lost count of my climaxes. I felt deboned. I hoped he did too.

"So, next Sunday, I want to try some bondage scenarios..."

"Next Sunday!?" My eyes shot open as the implications of his remark sunk in: As far as he was concerned, this wasn't a one-off pastoral visit. With growing horror I realised that it seemed that he meant to take me over and over every Sunday, in ever more kinky ways.

"Yeah, I'm sure you can persuade the minister and your hubby that there's more of God's good work to be done here," he chuckled, cupping my boob and tweaking my nipple painfully hard. "It'd be a sin to have to rely on our little home video, after all..." he continued, not making it clear quite exactly what he meant by that remark. I was speechless.

"Oh, and make sure you come dressed up in Sunday Best again, although maybe wear a corset next time. I really like those things on a body like yours," he chuckled as he ground his still semi-hard cock firmly against my ass.

So now you understand why I need to talk to someone? Someone who doesn't know me? What should I do? I had the most amazing afternoon, but it was wrong, so, so wrong. If I don't go along with him, he has that video. What would he do with it? Do I really want to find out if he is willing to blackmail me to get what he wants? I feel so torn, so deliciously dirty and also so worried about what I might have set in motion. I need to decide what to do, and I need to decide quickly, before Sunday comes around again. And, at the very least I need to choose what to wear.

The End