I attune myself to the rhythm of the woman on screen. My eyes flutter closed as the steady beat of her grunts fill my office. Slowly, I slip another finger in, and then two, and then finally, all four of my fingers are crammed deep into my pussy. It’s so wrong, but sometimes when I’m really turned on, I can do it. My head lifts for a moment and I blink in a daze as I look at how my cunt’s so stretched, with my entire fist trying to tunnel in. The flesh of my womanhood is swollen and gleaming, but the dirty sight only turns me on, and a hot gush of juice floods my palm as my eyes close once again, my head falling back against the chair.
But then, there’s a low rumble. At first, I ignore it. It must be something going on on-screen that’s not worth the trouble. Sighing breathlessly once more, I try and worm my thumb inside. Maybe I’ll be able to get my entire fist inside up to my wrist, just like I’ve seen in X-rated videos before. That would be amazing, wouldn’t it?
But the rumble comes again, more insistent this time, and my eyes flicker open because the sound wasn’t from the screen – it was from the door. Sure enough, as my vision focuses, I see that there’s a huge male figure outlined against my doorframe, and I let out a horrified scream. Who is this? And how long have they been watching me!
“Oh my God!” I shriek. “Get out, get out!”
Desperately, I try to pop my fingers out of my sweetest spot, but the problem is that they’re jammed in so tight that I can’t do it. It seems that I’ve been caught red-handed, and unfortunately, things are only going to go from bad to worse.
2
Bridge
Holy shit, what the fuck is going on? I stare at the sight before me because it’s none other than the innocent Renee Whitfield, her legs spread with a fist crammed halfway up her cunt. What the hell? This isn’t what I expected to see on a boring Tuesday afternoon.
After all, I accidentally left my phone at Sanctuary after attending afternoon services earlier today. It was a stupid thing to do, and as soon as I could get away from work, I double-backed to pick it up, figuring it would be a quick errand. The church parking lot was empty, save for a tiny hatchback stationed in the corner, and I pulled out my keys to let myself into the building. After all, as a church elder, I have a set just in case something needs to be done, like now.
But then, there were the moaning sounds. Immediately, I knew what it was because I’m a virile, red-blooded American male. Of course I can recognize when a woman’s getting it hard in the cunt and loving every second of the deep drill. But I didn’t think there would be an actualwoman. I figured it was a janitor getting his jollies off watching porn when he was supposed to be working, or maybe one of our teen male parishioners was secretly holed up with his phone.
But instead, I burst into a back office and saw the gorgeous Renee Whitfield spread out like a feast. Her blouse was in disarray, pulled open to reveal huge pink-tipped tits, just begging to be sucked. Her head was thrown back in pleasure as those brown curls tossed. But what made me transform from rubber to iron in two seconds was the sight of her hand. Her legs were spread as wide as possible, draped over the arm rests of her chair, and she had one hand almost completely buried in her cunt. I’ve never seen a girl with her fist jammed in so deep before, and not only that, but there was female nectar dripping off her wrist because she was so turned on.
But Renee was horrified at my appearance.
“Get out!” she screamed. “Out out out!”
Then, to my amusement, she tried to pull her hand out but it was stuck in so tight that she couldn’t. I watched, chuckling, as her pussy lips strained, swelling even more, as she tried valiantly. Finally, I stepped forward.
“Sweetheart, you need to be looser to make this happen. Allow me.”
Then, I reached forward and gently stroked her clit. That did the trick. With another throaty moan and a slippery sucking sound, her hand slithered out of her cunt, completely drenched in female juices. God, it smelled so good and I was close enough now for Renee to see the enormous bulge at my crotch.
But the curvy girl wasn’t having it. Immediately, she pulls her blouse closed and pushes off her chair to stand before me, trembling.
“I’m so sorry, Elder Jessop,” she begs, nearly on the verge of tears. “I thought I was alone. I swear I don’t do that usually.”
The woman on the screen is still moaning, and to my surprise, the actress has a huge cactus in her hand. What kind of perversion is this?
Renee’s cheeks grow even hotter as she shuts off her computer entirely.
“I’m so sorry,” she whimpers. “Please don’t tell anyone, Elder Jessop. It was just a one time thing.”
I assume a look of patience.
“Was it?” I ask in a calm voice.
“Yes!” the curvy brunette pleads, her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve never done anything like that before, I swear. I don’t even know how it happened. I was looking at plants on screen, and then that woman with the cactus came on—”
“So it was a cactus,” I interrupt in deadpan voice.
Renee sniffles a little.
“Yes,” she admits. “But that’s why I kept watching! It was so wrong, and depraved, and I’d never seen anything like that before! I swear, I’ll purge my computer’s cache right now. There will be no trace of what just happened.”
I shoot the young brunette an even glance, the silence between us heavy with tension.
“Yes, but I saw what you were doing,” I reply. “I know what happened.”
Renee drops her head to her hands. “I know and I’m so embarrassed, Elder Jessop. Again, I swear I’ve never done something like this before. It all happened so fast, and I couldn’t help myself, and—”