God's Great Plan

By Al Steiner

My best friend when I was growing up was a k** named Mike Tilden.
Though he was considered to be a geek by practically everyone else, Mike was
an intelligent k** who read everything he could get his hands on. The term
for him these days would be ‘nerd’.

Mike's f****y was a little on the weird side, at least that is my
impression of them today. They were nice people, don't get me wrong, but
they were religious fanatics. His Dad, a bearded, hip-talking leftover from
the sixties could spout fire and brimstone for a half-hour at a time. I
particularly remember an episode when I was about ten and I'd blurted "God
dang- it" in front of him after dropping a peanut butter sandwich. He'd
sternly admonished me about taking the Lord's name in vain, explaining that
when I said something like that, God Himself heard me and looked down to see
what I wanted. Never again did I take the Lord's name in vain in his
presence. Bob Tilden was an archeologist, a profession that was usually quite
at odds with the religion that he practiced. The firm that he worked for,
however, was funded by whatever church they belonged to and was involved in
searching for archeological evidence that served to disprove evolution and
support creationism. I never knew exactly what they looked for in the
vicinity of our humble city but he did make frequent trips to the Middle
East, sometimes staying gone for months at a time.

Mike's mother, Sarah, was a housewife. She'd always seemed the
proper companion for Bob. She said grace before each meal, she served no
meat on Fridays, and she could preach the word of The Lord almost as well as
her husband when the situation warranted it. She was perky and good natured,
rarely raising her voice and she'd always welcomed me into their home and
treated me like I was her own. It was safe to say that I'd always liked
Mike's mom.

When Mike and I were twelve his mother got pregnant. I remember, as
the months went by, seeing her stomach swell further and further until finally
she went to the hospital one day and returned with a baby boy.

It was about two months after the birth of Kyle, Mike's b*****r, and
the beginning of summer vacation when I'd peddled my bicycle over to his house
to show him a new Atari game cartridge that I'd gotten for my thirteenth

It was about nine in the morning when I knocked on the door. Nobody
answered so I knocked again and was about to go away disappointed when the
door swung open revealing Mrs. Tilden.

"Jason." She said, smiling at me. "Happy birthday, sorry Mike had to
miss it."

"Thank you." I told her. "Is Mike back from bible camp yet?"

"He got back last night." She told me. "But him and his Dad went up
to the hardware store to get some plumbing fixtures. Why don't you come in
and wait?"

I hesitated for a second. Though I loved Mike's mom to death she did
have an irritating tendency to preach. "How long have they been gone?" I
asked carefully.

"They should be back soon." She assured me. "Come on in."

She swung the screen door open and I stepped inside. As I stepped in I
noticed she was still wearing her nightgown; a knee length cotton one. Her
breasts, made large from the milk supply within them, were obviously
unencumbered by a brassiere. I looked away uncomfortably.

I sat in a chair in the living room and Mrs. Tilden sat on the couch.
On television a soap opera was playing. This was surprising. Usually the
television, if it was on at all, was tuned to the local religious channel.

We talked about my birthday and the presents I'd received for it. As
we discussed it I couldn't help but notice that her nightgown had ridden up
about eight inches past her knees. Mrs. Tilden was about thirty pounds
overweight; not fat but not thin either. I'd always thought she was pretty
but something about the way she was sitting and what she was wearing and the
raging hormones in my thirteen-year-old body made me think of her in a new
light. I found myself wondering what she looked like naked and then
immediately felt ashamed for thinking such a thing about my friend's mother.

Presently, the baby began to wail from the other room.

"Oh, excuse me for a minute." She said, standing up. The hem of her
nightgown rode up another four or five inches as she did so, revealing half of
her creamy, though chunky thighs.

She disappeared into the baby's room, returning a few minutes later
with the squalling two-month-old cradled in her arms.

"Somebody's hungry." She said, cooing softly to him.

She sat back down on the couch, got comfortable, and then began undoing
the buttons on the front of her nightgown.

Alarmed, I realized that she was about to breast feed and my face
flushed with embarrassment. "Uh," I said, standing up suddenly. "I guess
I'll come back later."

"What?" She said, looking up at me. "I thought you were going to wait
for Mike?"

"Well, " I stammered. "I don't wanna, that is, I uh..."

"Is it because I'm breast feeding?" She asked.

"Well, uh, yeah." I affirmed slowly.

"Haven't you ever seen a woman breast feed before?" She asked,
seemingly puzzled.

"Well, no." I said.

"Well." She said, acting as if it was done in public every day. "The
human body is nothing to be ashamed of." She said. "Breast feeding is a
beautiful and natural thing. It's truly God at work." She patted the couch
next to her. "Come here." She told me. "Come and watch."

Reluctantly I walked across the room and sat next to her on the couch,
unsure of myself.

She unbuttoned her nightgown and shrugged it off of her left
shoulder, pulling it down to reveal her breast. It was pasty white and about
the size of a cantaloupe. The aureole was a light shade of brown, like the
color of a pancake and the size of a silver dollar. Her nipple was huge, the
diameter of a dime and at least a half inch in length. A small amount of
pale white milk dribbled from it. As I watched she brought the baby's head
to her breast and his little toothless mouth sucked the nipple in. His jaws
immediately went to work, extracting the milk out of her body and into his.
I heard her sigh as he began feeding.

"There's nothing more beautiful than breast feeding a baby." She told

I stared, wide-eyed, my penis erect as Kyle drank his fill from her.
She was explaining how breast-feeding was part of God's great plan but I
barely heard her, lost as I was in the sight of my first mammary gland.
Though it would by no means qualify for Playboy magazine it was still perfect
in my eyes.

Presently he emptied her left breast. She pulled him away from her
and covered it up, pulling the right breast, which was now quite a bit larger
than it's companion out, and attempting to attach him to the nipple. But
Kyle was having none of it. His eyes were drooping closed and his mouth
refused to suck.

"Oh Kyle." She moaned good-naturedly, "Why can't you ever drink them
both dry." She pulled the nightgown back over her breast and stood up,
excusing herself again and carrying the baby back to his room. After a
minute or so she returned. As she sat down next to me again I notice that
she'd neglected to button the nightgown back up.

"Uh, Jason?" She asked softly. "Would you mind doing me a favor?"

"What's that Mrs. Tilden?" I asked, my face still flushed and my penis
starting to deflate a little.

"Well," She said, embarrassment showing on her face. "Kyle only
emptied one breast but I have to drain both of them. I have a breast pump but
it's kind of uncomfortable."

"Yeah?" I said, naively not getting her.

"So would you mind, " She continued. "Uh, draining the other breast
for me?"

I looked up at her, noting that her face was bright red and a strange
look was in her eyes. I wasn't sure I was hearing her correctly. "How would
I do THAT?" I asked.

"Why, the same way that Kyle does of course." She told me.

"You mean," I asked, shocked, "That you want me to, uh..."

"Suckle my breast for me." She replied. "The milk is very good for
you. It's full of vitamins and protein."

I was dumbfounded, a plethora of emotions assaulting me. She wanted me
to suck on her breast. Mike's mother! "I'm not sure I should do that." I
finally said.

"Please?" She said, almost pleading. "I really don't like the pump.
It'll only take a few minutes."

"But..." I started.

"Here." She said, shrugging down her nightgown to reveal her swollen
breast again. "All you have to do it put it in your mouth and suck a little."

She placed her hand on the back of my neck and gently pulled me
forward. I didn't resist. My mouth came down and contacted her swollen
nipple. I felt it slip past my lips, a hard though yielding piece of flesh.
I could feel the bumps and ridges on its surface.

"Go ahead." She told me, her voice slightly stern. "Suck on it."

I began to suck and my mouth was immediately filled with a warm,
tasteless liquid. It came spurting out and I was f***ed to swallow quickly to
avoid dribbling. It was neither bad nor good tasting. It was neutral. As I
sucked, Mrs. Tilden's hand stayed on the back of my neck, caressing me softly.

"That's good." She cooed at me. "You're doing just fine."

Apart from the erotic feel of her breast in my mouth and the
sensation of her smooth hand on my neck, I was keenly aware of the feel of
her body against mine. My right hand curled around her waist and my chest
lay against her hip. She was incredibly soft and warm. My dick became a
ramrod in my pants. I carefully kept my crotch from pushing against her leg
so she wouldn’t feel it.

She moaned softly a few times, stirring her hips a little, something
she hadn’t done when the baby had been suckling. I noticed an odor in the
air, a musky scent that I’d never encountered before. I didn’t know where it
was coming from.

Her soft hand slid softly down the back of my shirt, gliding in slow
circles around my back. Chills ran up my spine as I felt this. At this point
I still naively believed that this was an innocent encounter, that she really
did just want me to empty her breast for her. I hoped that I wouldn’t shoot
off in my pants. What would Mrs. Tilden think if she knew how excited she was
making me? She would probably kick me right out of her house and forbid me to
ever enter it again. I tried to will my hard-on away but I might as well have
been telling the tide not to come back in for all the good it did.

The volume of milk exiting her breast into my mouth gradually slowed
down, forcing me to suck harder to extract it. This made Mrs. Tilden moan
louder and more frequently. I felt her hips buck up and down a few times.
The odor of musk became stronger, making me wonder again just what it was.
Her free hand began running through my hair.

“This is sooo much better than the breast pump.” She told me softly.
“I’m glad you came by.”

I didn’t answer, I just continued sucking on her nipple. Finally the
milk supply gave out. I gave her one very strong suck to see if I could get
any more to come out and her reaction was startling.

“Oooohh!” She squealed, her entire body tensing up for a moment. Her
hand tightened in my hair, pulling almost painfully.

“Did I hurt you?” I asked, pulling my head up and looking at her

“Not at all.” She said, slightly breathlessly. Her face was very
flushed, her blue eyes shining. “Thank you very much Jason. That was… that
was beautiful.”

I nodded, embarrassed, not sure what to say. I sat up on the couch,
twisting my crotch away from her so she wouldn’t see the telltale bulge in my
jeans. I was trying to think of a way to make my exit. What I wanted to do
more than anything was ride my bike home, head for my room, drop my pants, and
beat off to the image of Mike’s mother. But she had other plans.

“Don’t you agree,” She asked me, looking in my eyes. “That breast
feeding is one of God’s gifts to us?”

“Uh, yeah.” I answered. “It’s great.”

She smiled. “You’re much too embarrassed by nudity.” She told me.
“Haven’t you ever seen a woman’s vagina before?”

My eyes widened. “Uh, no.” I told her. Actually I had, in various
Playboys and Penthouses that my father kept around the house. But I wasn’t
about to tell her THAT.

“Well.” She said huffily, as if I was the victim of c***d abuse or something.
“A vagina is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s another one of God’s great gifts.
Would you like to see mine?”

“Excuse me?” I squeaked, not sure I’d heard her right. Did she really
ask if I wanted to see her vagina?

“Here.” She said, dropping her hands to the hem of her nightgown.
“Let me show you.” She opened her legs and pulled the nightgown up over her
waist, revealing first her upper thighs and then the junction of them. The
first thing I saw was hair, a lot of it. It was light brown in color and
very curly. It covered her entire crotch like a blanket. She spread her
legs further and I was able to see a pair of pink lips protruding from the
middle of this nest. They were slightly open and had a sheen of moisture on
them. I found myself wondering if she’d peed herself. Where had the wetness
come from?

The smell that I’d noticed earlier suddenly assaulted me, tripling in
power as her nightgown came up. My nostrils flared. It was an odor that
should have been classified as gross but which was somehow giving me the
shivers. My dick pulsed in my pants as I inhaled it. I finally realized that
it was the odor of her pussy. The so-called “sweet nectar” that I’d read so
much about in Penthouse forum. While I wouldn’t have exactly called it
“sweet”, it was certainly putting my libido into overdrive.

“You see.” Mrs. Tilden breathed. “Nothing to be ashamed about. Every
woman has one of these.”

I nodded, speechless.

“Would you like to touch it?” She asked softly. “You can.”

I drew in a sharp intake of breath, my eyes still riveted to her. I
made no move towards her. I didn’t know what to do. I was trembling all over
like a paint-shaker, my mind reeling with confused emotions, my bl**dstream
boiling with teenaged hormones.

Mrs. Tilden reached forward and grabbed my hand. She ran her fingers
softly over it, pulling it towards her. “Here.” She whispered. “Let me help

She placed the back of my hand directly on the center of her. I felt
kinky, curly hair against my knuckles. I felt warm wetness and smooth,
slippery lips. She pulled my hand firmly against her, squishing my knuckles
against her vaginal lips. She then began moving my hand up and down,
clenching her thighs together, and trapping it there. I felt the smooth,
feminine skin of her upper thighs engulfing my hand. She clenched them and
released them a few times, pulling my hand tighter against her crotch. She
began to breathe faster and the odor of her grew stronger.

Smiling, her eyes riveted to my face (I can only imagine what my
expression was, probably something like religious exhalation), she opened her
legs again, freeing my hand. “Why don’t you put your fingers in it?” She
asked. “Feel what it’s like.”

I swallowed, gulping with a mouth that had gone dry. But I obeyed.
Using my index finger, I probed between her lips. My finger slid in easily,
all the way past the second knuckle. I felt her contract around it, pulling
at it. Vaguely, I heard myself groan.

“You can fit more fingers than that in.” She said. “Put in three.”

I added two fingers, my middle and ring. She was right, they slid in
easily. I was nearly panting now, unable to believe what was happening, no
longer able to convince myself that this was an innocent anatomy lesson, or a
religious lecture.

“Move them in and out.” She told me. I did, they made a slurping,
squishing sound, the friction very pleasant. “Yes.” She hissed softly. Her
hand slithered out and was suddenly on my crotch, squeezing and kneading me
through my jeans. I jumped, startled. No one had ever touched me there
before, though I’d imagined it in my fantasies a thousand times. And now my
best friend’s mother had become the first. It felt exquisite.

“Do you feel my pussy?” She asked me softly. “Do you feel how nice it

I nodded, unable to speak.

“You’re feeling God’s great plan.” She told me. “A pussy is
specifically designed for a nice hard cock,” She gave me a moderate squeeze
for emphasis, “Just like this one to slide into. It’s made to pleasure a
cock. And a cock is made to pleasure a pussy.” She moaned. “Oh Lord, isn’t
God great?”

“Yeah.” I breathed.

“Would you like to feel God’s great plan in action? Would you like to
feel just HOW they fit together?”

“Oh yesss!” I cried.

She released me, pushing my hand out of her crotch. My fingers were
soaked with her secretions. “Take off your pants.” She told me.

Trembling, my head filled with lust, I stared at her, reaching for
the buttons on my pants. But a wicked though occurred to me. “What about
Mike and Mr. Tilden?” I asked. “What if they, you know, come home?”

She smiled impatiently. “A little white lie on my part.” She told me.
“God will forgive me, I’m sure. They’re not at the hardware store. They went
to Bob’s work site to pick up some paperwork. They’ll be gone for hours.”

I stared at her, astonished. She had planned this encounter.
Otherwise she wouldn’t have lied to me.

“Now come on!” She hissed again. “Get those pants off. Let me show
you how kind and great God was when he designed our bodies. Let me show you
what rapture is all about.” She breathed deeply, desperation on her face.
“Please.” She pleaded. “Let me show you what my husband has forgotten.”

“Right!” I said, ripping open my pants, my little head now firmly in
control of me for the first time in my life. I pushed my pants down without
bothering to remove my shoes first and soon found myself crashing face first
to the carpet.

“Oh God, hurry, please.” Mrs. Tilden begged. “It’s been so long.”

I disentangled myself as quickly as possible, kicking off my shoes,
not bothering with my socks, and tossing my jeans to the floor. I shucked my
underwear, revealing my five-inch cock to her gaze. I was worried she would
take one look at it, declare it too small, and send me on my way but she did
no such thing. She stared at it hungrily, making a growling sound in the
back of her throat.

She held her arms out to me, beckoning. “Come on.” She panted
desperately. “Come feel God in action.”

“Right.” I repeated, moving towards her.

She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me on top of her. Her
breasts mashed against my chest. Her legs spread, rubbing against the outside
of mine. Her mouth came up and locked onto mine, giving me my first real
kiss. Her tongue shot into my mouth, shocking me as it swirled with mine. I
could feel the head of my cock against one of her thighs. I adjusted my
position, squirming this way and that until it was probing her wetness.

“Now put it in me!” She commanded, “Put it all the way in. Feel God!”

“Yeah.” I wheezed, sinking down into her.

I was unable to breathe, it felt so good. I slid into her sheath all
the way to the hilt, feeling her muscles pulling at me, feeling my pubis mash
against hers.

“Oh God!” She cried, loud enough to make me wonder about the neighbors
hearing. “Praise the Lord. It’s been so long. Now fuck me! Start moving!
Feel God! Feel God, Goddamit!”

“I can feel it!” I assured her, starting to thrust now, my movements
the instinctive rhythm of racial memory. Her mouth found mine again, her
tongue dueling with mine. The friction of this was beyond description. I’d
never imagined, even in my most vivid fantasies that intercourse could feel so
good. Before I’d thrusted ten times I felt the inevitability of orgasm

I started to pant, my thrusts becoming a mad blur, my balls slamming
against her ass. I couldn’t even speak, couldn’t tell her what was about to
happen. But she knew. Her hands came down to my ass, one of her fingers
sliding between the cheeks and dipping into my anus.

“Ahhhhh!” I groaned, orgasm racking me, my seed slamming out of my
balls and up into her body, filling her up, decreasing the friction of our
union with it’s added lubrication.

When my thrusts finally slowed to a halt, my load, as it was, shot, she
disengaged her mouth from me and pulled her hands to my hair. She pulled my
face up, her eyes, filled with lust, drilling into me.

“I’m not finished with you yet.” She told me. “I haven’t seen God
yet.” She dropped her hands to my shoulders and pushed, forcing me off of her
and to the floor. I found myself staring at her pussy, which was soaked with
secretions and drooling my sperm from between its lips. She pulled my face
against her.

The smell overwhelmed me, the rich smell of musk and the mineral smell
of my sperm. My lips mashed f***efully into her, smearing this wetness across
my face. I tried to pull away, disgusted at the thought of my own sperm
touching my face, but she was insistent.

“Stick your tongue in me.” She ordered. “Lick between my lips.”

I tried to groan out some protest but she was having none of that.

“If you ever want to see God again,” She threatened. “You’d better eat
me. Eat me good. Oh God, stick your tongue in me, now!”

She pulled me closer and I had no choice but to slide my tongue between
her lower lips. I could taste my sperm dancing across my tastebuds, it’s
flavor mixed with the more pleasant taste of her pussy.

“Yes!” She cried. “Plunge it in and out!”

I did so, sliding it into her, tasting more of myself. I discovered
that it really wasn’t so bad, though I was glad it was mine. I certainly
wouldn’t have done this if it had been someone else’s sperm.

“Stick your finger up my ass!” She ordered. I wondered briefly if this
was REALLY the same woman who doted over Mike and me and offered us lemonade
after we’d been out playing particularly hard.

I did this too, sliding it across her vagina to lubricate it first.
Her asshole was tight and my finger barely went in. But after a moment she
adjusted and it slipped in and out easily.

“More!” She cried. “Put more fingers in.”

I slid another finger in alongside the first and then a third. She
groaned in ecstasy.

“Move them in and out.”

I complied, continuing to slurp away at her.

“Now suck my clit.” She said next.

I had no idea what a clit was or where it could be found, but she’d
anticipated this.

“The bump on top of my pussy.” She told me. “Suck it hard. Now!”

I moved my mouth upward, probing with my tongue, finally finding that
of which she spoke. I began to suck on it like it was a nipple and she went
truly batshit. Her pelvis began to thrust, mashing into my face. Her
breathing became erratic. Her ass began to clench around my fingers.

“Yes!” She cried. “Oh God yes! Oh sweet Lord you are soooo great! Oh
God, suck it harder!”

I did and the crotch mashing became frantic, slamming into me nearly
hard enough to bl**dy my nose. Her thighs wrapped around my shoulders and
clenched tight, nearly choking me. She began to spasm.

“Don’t stop!” She yelled. “Don’t stop. Keep it up!”

I did and the thrusting seemed to reach a peak and then finally slowed
down, coming to a stop. Her legs relaxed, dropping off of my shoulders. She
reached down and pulled my face up, looking into my eyes. I saw that she was
flushed, her forehead shiny with perspiration. Her eyes still had a mad glint
in them.

She pushed me off of her and then slid off the couch herself, spinning
around and hiking the hem of her nightgown up. This revealed her dripping
pussy and asshole to me.

“Fuck my ass.” She told me. “Slide it in and fuck me. I want to feel
you come in my asshole.”

I stared at her, uncomprehending. I’d never considered doing such a
thing before. Was it even possible?

She reached behind her with both hands, resting her weight on the
couch, and spread the cheeks of her butt widely. “Put it in.” She told me.
“Let me feel you ass-fuck me. Come on!”

I looked down and saw that my dick was hard as a crowbar once again. I
moved forward and placed the head against the brown circle of her anus and
tried to push. The head slipped in about a quarter of an inch and would go no

“Lube it.” She told me. “Run your fingers through my pussy and then
put it on your cock.”

I slid two fingers into her now loose vagina, wetting them thoroughly.
I then jacked my cock a few times, getting it nice and slippery. I then tried

This time my cock slid nicely into her browneye, eliciting a loud moan
from her. I moaned as well. Her ass was TIGHT. Tighter than I would have
imagined possible. I grabbed her slightly flabby buttcheeks and, using them
for leverage, started to thrust in and out. She began to thrust back against
me, panting uncontrollably once again. Her left hand came up between her legs
and began rubbing her pussy madly.

She moaned, working her way through another orgasm. When she came, her
ass started to spasm against my cock and the friction was enough to push me
over the edge again. I spurted deep into her bowels, pushing her asscheeks
together as I did so.

When I was done I pulled out, my dick withdrawing with a slurp. It was
streaked with brown that I knew was her feces, but somehow this didn’t disgust
me. Her anus disgorged a bubble of brown-tinged semen, which ran down towards
her vagina. I looked at this uncomfortably, vowing that no matter WHAT she
threatened, I wasn’t going to put my tongue THERE.

But she had no such plans. She rolled over, so she was sitting on the
carpet, and looked pointedly at me. She stared for a minute, while my mind
tried to make sense of what had just happened. Had this really been Mike’s
mother? Finally she spoke.

“What we just did was beautiful, wasn’t it?”

I looked at her, my emotions in turmoil. Had I enjoyed this? Fucking-
Aye I had. I nodded in agreement.

“It was God’s great plan in action. The pleasure of the flesh.”

“Right.” I assured her.

“But,” She said. “Society thinks it’s wrong. A mother enjoying carnal
pleasures with a young boy.”

I nodded, catching her drift but not knowing where this was going.

“You must never tell anyone what happened here today. They wouldn’t
understand. They would think it wrong. Do you think it’s wrong to enjoy my

“No.” I said immediately.

She smiled. “Good.” She said. “My husband,” She explained, “Has
misinterpreted the scriptures. He believes that sexual intercourse is
expressly reserved for procreation purposes only.”

I stared at her, her words outside the standard vocabulary of a
thirteen-year-old. She saw my confusion.

“He thinks sex is for making babies only.” She rephrased. “He hasn’t
touched me in, in the way you and I just touched, since I found out I was
pregnant with Kyle. That was nearly a year ago. A year without feeling God’s

I wasn’t terribly impressed then though I am these days. After all,
I’d just gone thirteen years without experiencing “God’s gift”.

“We plan to have no more c***dren.” She continued. “So therefore, he
plans never to touch me, ‘that way’ again.”

I nodded as if I understood, though I didn’t.

“I NEED to be touched that way.” She told me. “Every woman does.
Like I said, it’s God’s gift.”

“Right.” I told her.

“If you would like,” She said. “You can touch me that way. You can
feel God with me whenever circumstances permit. Would you like that?”

I raised my eyebrows. If I had heard her right, she was offering to
let me fuck her whenever we could. Did I feel like that? Is the government
corrupt? “Yes.” I told her. “I would like that a lot.”

She smiled, pulling her nightgown down. “So would I.” She said. “But
there’s one condition.”

“Condition?” I asked, wondering what THAT might be.

“Yes.” She nodded. “You can never tell a soul what we’re doing.
Not a single person. Ever. I know the impulse of boys is to tell their
friends what they are doing sexually but you can never do that. Never. If
you did, the consequences would be severe for me. Not so much for you, but I
would probably be put in jail. You, on the other hand, would lose the
pleasures of the flesh from me. What is more important for you? Telling
your friends about the older pussy you’re getting, or not telling them and
continuing to get the older pussy?”

There was certainly no contest in my mind, although I know of people
who would have a problem with her deal. “I won’t tell a soul.” I assured
her. “They could torture me and I still wouldn’t tell.”

“Good.” She smiled. “Although let’s hope it never comes to that.”
She stood up, buttoning the top buttons of her nightgown. “As for now.” She
said, “I think it might be a good idea if you went home for the day. You can
try Mike tomorrow. He should be home then.” She glanced down at my waist,
eyeing it appreciatively. “You’d better pull up your pants first though.”

I looked down and saw that I was still naked, except for my socks,
below the waist. Blushing, I reached for my jeans.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” She told me. “You have a very godly cock. Be
proud of it.” She gave me a meaningful glance. “Mike and Bob are going to
bible study on Thursday night at about six o’clock. Maybe you should come by
then to see if he’s home?”

“Maybe I should.” I agreed, already anticipating the visit.

I picked up my pants and started to put them on, realizing that she was
right. God WAS good.

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2 years ago
Mrs. Tilden practices her religion in a way that would make me a convert. Hot story.
2 years ago
2 years ago
Well written and veryyyyy entertaining.