From the Pew to the Study: Riding My Pastor in His Wife’s Church
I always wore my prettiest dresses and did my hair up extra nice on Sundays, even though I knew the youth pastor’s eyes would be on me the whole service. I batted my lashes at him from the third pew, twirling a golden curl around my finger. He tried to ignore me, but I could feel his gaze like a physical caress.
It made me wet, knowing how badly he wanted me. And that his wife would be none the wiser, leading the congregation in hymns while her husband undressed me with his eyes.
I made my move after service, “accidentally” dropping my bible as I passed him in the hall. I bent at the waist to pick it up, making sure he got a good view of my cleavage in the low-cut dress.
“Oh Pastor John, how clumsy of me!” I giggled, handing him the holy book. My fingers brushed his and lingered. “I’m sorry, I just get so flustered around you sometimes.”
He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. “It’s alright Emilee. These things happen.” His voice was husky.
I bit my lip. “Actually, I was hoping I could talk to you about some…personal struggles I’m having. Is there somewhere private we could go? I don’t want the whole church to overhear.”
His eyes darted around but he nodded. “My study is just down the hall. Let’s go there.”
I followed him, extra sway in my hips, making sure he watched me walk. Once inside, I locked the door and turned to him with a coy smile. “Now, where were we…”
I took his hand and guided it to my breast. He groaned and I covered his mouth with mine in a heated kiss. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” I breathed against his lips. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. You want me, don’t you Pastor John?”
“Emilee, we shouldn’t-” he protested weakly even as his hands roamed my body.
I pushed him into his chair and straddled his lap, grinding against the growing bulge in his slacks. “Shh, it’s okay. I want to be bad for you.”
I captured his mouth again, kissing him deeply as I unzipped his pants and freed his hard cock. He gasped against my lips but didn’t stop me as I sank down on him, taking him deep inside my tight heat.
“Fuck Emilee, you feel so good,” he groaned, head thrown back in pleasure. His hands gripped my hips, guiding my movements as I rode him hard and fast, not caring about being quiet.
I rode him right to the edge, then lifted off with a wicked grin. “Not yet, Pastor. You don’t get to cum until you’ve pleased me first.”
His eyes were dark with lust but he nodded. “I’ll do anything you want, Emilee. Anything.”
I liked the sound of that. I had so many filthy things in mind for my sweet, married Pastor John to do. And his clueless wife had no idea what we were up to, or the games I had planned for her too.
