I have just returned from the early service at my local Episcopal Church. Nice people there, welcoming and although mostly white not at all uptight in that WASP-ish, traditional New England sort of way. A California native, I follow a path that, by the morals of even the Low Church types, most would me to be considered a lunatic and sexual deviant. That is, if anyone knew the type of man that I was — a person continuously horny and always on the prowl for a conquest — well. let us just say that most mothers would consider me to be a threat to the innocence and virginity of their daughters.

Probably, this is true.

But, in reality, I prefer women with greater maturity and depth, who bring to any encounter or relationship (sexual or otherwise) a philosophy based on that kind of practical experience one can only gain through multiple and varied erotic encounters.

The service was sparsely attended, and I found myself four pews behind a well dress woman of about fifty or so — somewhat on the short side — I’d say about five feet or a little taller. Her brown hair was long, and straight, and hung plainly down her back to just below her shoulders. I took plenty of time admiring her backside — a simple shape, not overly curvy, but with firm buttocks and hips draped in a simple dress. The weather was cold and wet, and she wore boots that reached to mid-calf.

From her back, she appeared to be a prim, proper and well proportioned morsel. During the Peace, I saw her face — open, welcoming, with a smile and softly brown eyes that were bright and engaging. Of the two women who were obviously single (or unattended at the service), she was by far the more appealing. And, I began to wonder …

We introduced ourselves to one another during the after-service coffee klatsch. Her name was Linda. Other particulars were soon revealed:

She was a minister in training, attending the local seminary.

Her home was just east of Pensacola, Florida, and she had been absent nearly a year now, and was living in some kind of campus housing with other divinity students.

She was divorced with two adult children, and even a grandchild of four and a half years old.

Also, though she did not overtly say this, she was lonely, but bravely hanging in there.

Altogether, in just the few minutes we spend talking I found her to be engaging, attractive, and just interesting enough …Many others were leaving the little break room at the back of the church, and I asked her if she’d like to walk with me to get some fresh air. She agreed, with a quickness of breath and a glint to her brown eyes that suggested promise … just how much promise I was soon to find out!

This particular church is encircled with a garden that is richly redolent of flowers, trees, and shrubs, with little bowers of vines here and there arching over rustic benches. More or less a Thomas Kinkaid sort of effect, but this was a poor parish with little money to spend on maintaining the grounds. As a result, the bushes and shrubs were thick and untrimmed, and Linda and I soon found ourselves hidden from the view of the other members of the congregation. In fact, the entire area was nearly vacant now … the next service was a nearly an hour in the future.

As we spoke, I brushed her shoulder, and Linda responded readily by leaning into mine. The weight and warmth of her body, which this simple action transmitted to me caused my the blood to rush, and I flushed and felt a bittersweet tension swelling inside of me.

Within moments, we were seated on a shaded bench, screened from view, and our hands were exploring the other person’s body — shyly and hesitatingly at first. Then, because neither one of us flinched in response, but instead drew closer, our confidence grew and I could feel her heat rising as Linda’s fingers glided over my chest.

“Andy,” she said. “I — this feeling I have right now.” Linda’s breath was short, and her eyes were watering with emotion.

“I can feel my heart racing,” I said, encouraging her to open more to me. “I found you attractive right from the moment I saw you. This is truly unbelievable, the glowing feeling that I have inside of me. It is very unexpected, but I must say that I feel it very strongly …”

“So do I.” Linda’s hands had stopped their wandering. Her arms draped my shoulders, her fingers clasped together behind my neck.

We kissed, and the surge of emotion grew and broke over us like a warm giant comber on a sandy beach. The power of our passion soon overwhelmed us, and we were rubbing our bodies together and clawing at one another with a wild, animal-like hunger.

I slid quickly to my knees. The mouldy bricks were hard and cold, and my sudden action caused me a sharp pain. But, so great was my lust, that I ignored it. My hands slid up the outer edge of her body, tracing each thigh up to and under her simple sheath dress. Linda possessed trim, lean muscular thighs. I could feel a tension running through them. Tension driven by desire and a lonely hunger and longing.

Within moments Linda was stretched fully across the bench, her stockings and underpants pulled down to the tops of her boots, her dress hitched up to her hips, and her lightly trimmed pussy exposed to my starving lips. I kissed the curly hairs, traced each hair to its roots, tickled and prodded her delicate flesh with lips and tongue. Her hips writhed with emotion, and she groaned softly.

With both hands, I gently parted her thighs — just a little — and then slide my tongue slowly, caressingly, and gently down the middle of her pubis, tenderly touching the gentle fleshy labia folding over and hiding her clitoris.

Abruptly, Linda thrust her pelvis upward, aggressively holding my head in place with both her hands, and grinding her sweet vagina on to my mouth. I responded by hungrily pulling her flesh with my mouth, sucking in her deeply rich and musky tasting pussy juices.

With my tongue, I forced apart the luscious fruit of her flesh, and then hammered her clitoris with a rapid flutter and pressure of my tongue.

Linda stiffened. From deep with in her chest she exclaimed a hoarse, throaty “Dear GOD!” and then she seemed as though she might explode in pelvis-shuddering climax. Within moments, all energy seemed drained from her — her body quivered spasmodically several times and then she relaxed. Linda opened her eyes, which were filled with tears and pulled my face up to hers, and she kissed me deeply and long.

“I haven’t felt like that in so long,” she said after a moment.

From beyond the shrubs the church bell began to toll. The next service was about to start, and Linda struggled to break herself out of her erotic revere. “I have to be at the next service.” she began to apologize.

“We’ll see each other later,” I said. “Tonight?”

Linda pulled her clothes together, flustered and her face flushed. “I feel I am being unfair, to you. But I have to attend the service.”

I assured her that I could wait, and tried to get her to make a commitment to meet me later in the day.

“Where?” she asked.

“Here, this evening just before sunset at four. No one will be here,” I said. “This will be our rendezvous. I will take you to dinner, there is the French restaurant down on A Street, they are open Sunday evenings. We’ll talk, and later, we can go to my place, over the hill.”

Linda stood, she looked more like the woman I met during the Peace — her hair immaculate, the fabric of her dress smooth and cleaving to her hips, her face still warm with passion, although now not as flushed. The look of confusion and apology were gone from her eyes now, and she smiled.

Linda said, “Andy, at four, I will meet you here. And dinner would be ore than lovely. And I promise, if you will let me, I will make you feel as wonderful after dinner as you have made me feel just now.”

And then she quickly skipped down the path and toward the church, and just before she disappeared behind a hedge I saw again her slender waist and firm buttocks, just as I had in the pew —