The Spanking Communion by Henry Andrews, spanking, M/f sex
He's just sitting in church, his mind wanders,
and suddenly it's Angie, the hot-bodied girl of his dreams in front of the
church, getting worked over by a pair of women in choir robes...is it real, or just
fantasy?
(c) 2004, all rights reserved. Not For Sale
Inside the
Congregational Baptist Church, Robert Peckwood stood beside his parents singing
in a barely audible voice with only the slightest of movement from his lips. He
gazed out the window at the bright hot day and pale blue sky carrying
cotton-puffs of clouds. After the hymn ended Robert and the rest of the
congregation sat down in the wooden pews and waited for the pastor to gather
himself for the sermon. He situated himself, took a drink from a glass of water
on the pulpit, then opened his Bible and began to preach. But Robert heard very
little after that because he was thinking about yesterday when he saw Angie
Sorensen walking downtown with two other girls from high school. She wore a pair
of tight cutoffs squeezed over her voluptuous ass and a white body-hugging tank
top that bared her midriff. She had a round, high-cheeked, Scandinavian face
with dazzling snow-blue eyes, and her blonde hair, which was almost white, fell
down her back like a waterfall.
Robert had fantasized about her countless
times. She sat in front of him in Algebra class (Robert’s least favorite class)
and she wrote with a pen that had a long black feather sticking out of it that
shook and shimmied when she worked. If he leaned far enough over his desk,
pretending to be intent on his studies, he could smell the buttery baked-almond
smell of her hair, which was sometimes mixed with a flowery scent from her
perfume. He often imagined her naked and standing spread-eagled against the
blackboard scrawled with Algebra problems, her hair coming down to the middle of
her naked back, as he paddled her with a wooden ruler until her white skin
burned red. Then he’d bury his face in her hair and fuck her in the ass until he
was about to come, at which point in his fantasy, he pulled out, whipped Angie
around, her chest and belly powdered with chalk dust, and force her to her knees
where he came on her.
But in his imagination that Sunday morning,
he saw Angie Sorensen strutting down the center aisle of the church straight
toward the pastor. No one seemed to notice her coming down the aisle in a pair
of faded jeans and a lacy white bra. Her hips swished from side to side, her
blonde-white hair flowing out behind her, and the hint of a mischievous grin
turning up the corners of her plump lips. The pastor kept preaching as if
nothing was happening, and the congregation stared at the pulpit, never turning
their heads once as Angie passed by them.
Then suddenly two beautiful women appeared in
red choir robes on either of the communion table. Robert didn’t recognize them
as anyone he knew; they were simply characters created out of images stuck in
his imagination. As Angie stood in front of the table, the two choir women
raised each one of Angie’s arms, one at a time, until her arms stuck out
straight from her shoulders like a cross. The choir women smiled and took hold
of Angie’s wrists and, keeping her arms extended, gently bent her over the
communion table. Next they removed ropes from beneath their robes, looped the
ropes around Angie’s wrists, and pulled the excess tight. The skin bunched and
reddened around Angie’s hands. The choir women fastened the ends of each rope to
the legs of the communion table, then came around in front to where Angie’s
blue-jeaned ass was prominently displayed.
The two choir women looked at each other
again, smiled, and ran their hands up the seams of Angie’s jeans and along her
round hips, then spread their fingers out over the lush curves of her ass. They
bent down along her legs as their hands floated, making soft leafy patterns
across her bottom and upper thighs. Then one of the choir women drew back her
hand and swatted Angie’s ass with several hard open-handed slaps.
Angie flinched and her ass quivered. The
women continued to rub her behind, more rapidly now, their excitement growing.
Then the other woman drew back her hand and swatted Angie’s ass, too. The two
women purred. Their hands swam faster and faster all up and down Angie’s thighs
and ass and in between her legs and her blue-jeaned pussy. Her helpless bottom
and their pleasure in feeling and punishing it transfixed them. They alternated
back and forth, spanking Angie with increasing intensity and arousal.
Robert could’ve sworn he heard the two women
meow at one point. Angie’s head began to thrash back and forth as the smacks
against her ass came with more speed and severity. Her blonde-white hair smeared
and tangled around her face, her arms and shoulders strained at the ropes, the
muscles in her bare back stood coiled and taut against her white skin. She cried
out.
Meanwhile, Robert positioned his Bible over
his lap to hide the ragging hard-on in his Sunday pants, then continued unabated
with his fantasy as the pastor said something about the sins of the flesh.
After the two women had given numerous giddy
spanks to Angie’s ripe bottom, they suddenly slipped their hands beneath her and
undid her jeans, then grabbed hold of the waistband on each side of her hips and
yanked with great enthusiasm. Their eyes danced and their lips parted wide. The
jeans came ripping down off Angie’s ass, exposing white panties drawn tight over
her behind. The choir women tore the jeans down to Angie’s knees, then stood and
clapped their hands at the beautiful sight of her ass and the red skin bleeding
out from beneath her panties. They stroked her panties with delicate touches and
caressed the hot red skin from their spankings. They bent over and lightly
brushed their lips across her inflamed skin. Tremulous purrs hummed against
Angie’s tender ass. Their hands pawed and kneaded her thighs, and their fingers
wedged between her legs and rubbed her soaked pussy, moving in and out of the
narrow space created by her bound legs. They ran fingers up the pantied crease
in her bottom and pushed in the white fabric against her anus until it stuck
there like a furrow. Angie moaned with pleasure. She tried to spread her legs so
the fingers exploring her could touch her more fully, but she could only part
her knees slightly, caught by the restraint of the jeans around her knees. She
whimpered from the torturous ache of pleasure.
“Please, please,” Angie begged.
The choir women soon stopped soothing and
arousing Angie’s butt and squatted down at her knees and took hold of her jeans
again and slipped them down her calves and off her feet. They tossed the jeans
aside, then knelt down at her bare feet to stroke and lick. They bent her leg up
so they could slide their tongues along her plump toes. Angie cooed and giggled.
The women sucked off her toes like little cocks, purring all the while, and
leaving her toes slick and shiny.
They licked her heals, around her ankles and
up her calves, and still upward across the soft skin behind her knees. Their
tongues lapped and flicked at her skin like kittens at milk. They crisscrossed
her soft generous thighs with happy smiles, moving to where the cusp of her wide
round ass met her thighs, while their hands wadded along her hips. After they
rolled down her panties, until they coiled like rope around the top of her
thighs, the choir women pried open her ass cheeks and dove their long tongues
into her deep crevice like hummingbirds nosing deep into a flower, darting into
her tight pink anus, licking her till she shone.
Then they gleefully went back to spanking
her, whacking her with hard open- handed assaults to her shaking ass, beating it
to a bright blood color. Angie’s knuckles went white from the fierce grip she
had on the ropes. Her face was wracked with agony, her eyes squeezed tight, her
lips twisted in pain, her cheeks a rosy red. Strangled sobs sputtered from her
mouth, but the hard spanking apparently made her even more aroused; drops of
pussy-juice slid down her thigh and dripped from the coiled panties right below
her pussy.
The women suddenly stopped and ripped down
the panty-rope, then each in turn buried four of their fingers up Angie’s gooey
pussy. Angie started and let out a gasp, rising up on her toes. The two women
pistoned their fingers in and out until juices began to spray from Angie’s
pussy. The women giggled insanely and bounced up and down. They quickly
disrobed, spread Angie’s legs apart as far as they could, and lashed her flowing
pussy with their tongues. Angie started to come, her whole body seemed to twitch
and tremble as the two women feasted on her flooding sex.
The next thing Robert knew they were
motioning him to come forward. He looked around to make sure it was him they
wanted. And when he pointed to himself with raised eyebrows, mouthing “me,” the
two women nodded and waved him over. Robert stepped out of the pew and walked
down to the communion table staring at Angie tied to the table, her ass jutting
out and beat red, and at the now naked choir women urging him to come forward.
They grabbed his arms when he got to them and
pulled him in front of Angie’s ass, then playfully shoved him back a couple of
feet. They yanked his clothes off and “oohed” and “ahhed” at his young cock
pointing straight up at their tits and the pastor preaching behind them. The
women looked at each other and smiled their catlike smiles while pressing their
hands to their cheeks as if astonished at Robert’s gorgeous cock. Each in turn,
they reached far between Robert’s legs till a finger squirmed into his ass
cheeks then tickled his anus before riding out along the sensitive trail between
his anus and scrotum. They each cupped his balls and rolled them softly in their
fingers before sliding their palms up the underside of his shaft, their
fingernails tickling him in their wake, until they enclosed his cock-head and
rubbed it once before letting go. Robert’s cock jerked up and down after each
hand stroked him. An amazing prickle of pleasure went through his body. They
pressed on his shoulder and he knelt down like a penitent before them, or like a
Catholic boy ready to receive the Eucharist, even though Robert never had.
The two women returned to Angie and they both
scooped handfuls of juices from her sopping pussy and licked up the overflow
running down her thighs and the length of her legs. It soaked into the carpet at
their bare feet. The women lapped at the pool of Angie’s juices in their cupped
hands. Then they walked over to Robert, grinning and purring with Angie’s juice,
and when they got to him, they tipped their hands to his lips and slowly poured
Angie’s juices into his mouth. Robert kept his mouth wide open, his eyes closed,
and gulped down the sweet-cucumbery liquid as it funneled down his throat. After
they both emptied their handfuls in his mouth, they eagerly licked off the drops
that had spilled across his cheeks and chin and down his bare chest. They kissed
him on the lips, then massaged the wetness on their hands all over his swollen
cock.
Next they took hold of his biceps, helped him
off his knees, and then led him to Angie Sorensen’s fiery red ass bent over the
communion table. Her pussy lips were exposed and glistening. Droplets of her
juice hung and fell from her curly blonde pubic hairs. The insides of her legs
were slick. To Robert the sight was enough, right there, for him to shoot off a
load of cum all over her cherry red ass. The two women pulled Robert’s arms
behind his back and clamped his wrists together in a tight grip, then they
shuffled him forward and nudged the head of his cock against Angie’s inflamed
pussy, but they held him back from penetrating her, so he flicked his cock up
and down her wet slit. Angie moaned and tried to wiggle her ass closer and
swallow him. The two women giggled while Angie squirmed in vain to inch her
bound body to his cock.
“Please, Rob, Please!” she begged. “Fuck me,
Rob!” she sobbed. “Fuck me, now, please give it to me! I want it so bad! I can’t
take it anymore! Stop teasing me, torturing me! Shove your cock in, fill me,
saturate me, fuck my brains out, make me come like a dirty little whore!”
The two women squealed with delight at
Angie’s admission that she wanted to be treated like a dirty little whore. With
their free hands, they both took turns whacking and slapping Angie’s ass as she
danced beneath the succession of blows. They chanted, “Dirty little whore! Dirty
little whore! Fuck the dirty little whore!”
Finally, they yanked Robert forward against
Angie. His cock plunged into her sopping pussy, splashing down into her hole so
deep he thought his whole body was going to sink inside and disappear. Angie
screamed with pleasure as Robert couldn’t help but explode inside her. He
imagined he was choking her pussy with endless blast of his pumping semen,
filling her belly, rushing into her blood and veins, spreading into her eyes,
out the end of her blonde-white hair while she cried out to be filled even more,
filled until she drowned. Then Angie’s pussy burst with orgasmic fluid that shot
out her like water shooting from a rip torn into a dam, and kept coming until
the dam started to crumble and the canyon full of pent-up water flooded out. The
gush swirled with white globs of all the sperm Robert had poured into her (he
could see it as clearly as if he were watching a movie), flooding the church and
bowling over the congregation and pastor as if hit by a tidal wave. The church
filled until it broke open and the force of their sex flooded the whole town in
waves.
At that point, Robert wanted to masturbate so bad he could hardly stand it, so
he quickly interrupted his fantasy and thought of something ugly: the pastor
naked; and that seemed to do the trick. He leaned over and whispered to his mom
that he had to go to the bathroom. She turned to him and frowned with clinched
teeth, then his dad leaned forward and looked at him too, only he had a scowl on
his face. That morning they had confronted him about his bladder control problem
during every Sunday church sermon and how his business usually took 20 to 25
minutes, half the sermon. But he was determined to fulfill what he’d started, no
matter the consequences, and got out of the pew and walked up the side aisle to
the foyer, where he noticed the wet spot on his Sunday pants. He opened the door
to the basement and went downstairs.
In the basement bathroom, he pulled down his
pants and sat on the cold toilet seat and grabbed his cock and imagined Angie
Sorensen dancing naked around his bedroom holding her black feathered pen and
singing about how she wanted his cock in her ass until she flounced on his bed,
where they wrestled around a bit before she got on all fours and presented her
big luscious ass to Robert.
“Don’t fuck my ass until I say you can fuck
my ass, okay?” she said.
She snaked her hand between her legs and up
across her anus where she circled and rubbed the tight opening several times.
“Spit on it, Rob,” she said.
He leaned forward and spit some saliva on her
asshole. She swirled it around then sank a finger in.
On the toilet in the church basement, Robert
stroked his cock harder while he gazed up at the light coming through the
frosted window near the top of the ceiling. Then he heard the sound of the
church organ wheezing and groaning, which meant the congregation was singing the
commencement hymn and the pastor was standing in front of the communion table,
ready to receive any sinners, but Robert couldn’t take his eyes of the frosted
window light and the image of Angie’s Sorensen’s finger sunk deep in her ass
until he couldn’t take any of it anymore, closed his eyes, and doubled over with
a orgasm that hit him in the chin.
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