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The Choir Loft

I didn?t know the terms ?friends with benefits? or ?fuck buddies? when I was 16, but I certainly understood the concept. My friend, Daniel, and I started fucking when I broke up with my long-term boyfriend. I didn?t miss the boyfriend, but I did miss the regular sex, and Daniel was happy to oblige.

Daniel?s dad was a minister, so Daniel spent a lot of time in church too. He was the quintessential minister?s kid, wild as a March hare, and he knew every nook and cranny of the church. Horny teenagers with vigilant parents have to be resourceful in finding opportunities to get their freak on. Daniel and I fucked in church. Regularly.

It started with a blow job in the back of the kitchen when we were supposed to be getting snacks for the kids during Vacation Bible School. Teasing a boy relentlessly during circle time is dangerous, even when that boy is your close friend. When we found ourselves alone in the kitchen, he pushed me against the industrial-sized Frigidaire, kissed me hard, and I found myself on my knees sucking my close friend?s dick. Two minutes later, I swallowed it all. Kool-Aid, cookies, and cum. Not necessarily in that order. We escalated quickly. He fingered me in vacant Sunday School rooms, went down on me in the closet where the sheet music was kept, and fucked my brains out in the soft glow of light filtered through stained glass.

Our ultimate goal was to fuck in the Sanctuary. The prospect was so deliciously brazen and sacrilegious that it was irresistible. Although, using teenage-boy logic, Daniel reasoned that if sex was a gift from God, it was perfectly acceptable to celebrate that gift in His house. I was more than agreeable as long as no one but God saw us, tricky in a room meant to seat over 1000 people with multiple entrances and a wrap-around balcony.

One Wednesday evening, we finally got our chance. Wednesday night was choir practice and prayer meeting which normally occurred simultaneously. Daniel and I were both in the church choir and arrived at the appointed time, but on this particular evening, rehearsal had been cancelled because of a guest speaker. Everyone in the choir headed to prayer meeting, held in the Fireside Room on the opposite end of the building.

We lingered in the rehearsal room until everyone else had left, and then slipped down into the darkened Sanctuary. The room was lit by three enormous chandeliers, and in retrospect, I guess they held Wednesday night services in the Fireside Room to save on the electric bill. Daniel and I didn?t care about that. We were simply delighted by the mood lighting. The chandeliers were not completely dark, just turned down to their lowest setting. All we needed was someone to bang out a little Marvin Gay on the big pipe organ.

We walked the perimeter of the Sanctuary, making sure it was empty and pretending to debate the best place to get it on. We tested the back row, noting that the darkest place in the room was there underneath the balcony. Daniel sat in the pew and I straddled him. The wooden pew was hard under my knees, but Daniel?s dick was harder under his oh-so-conservative khaki pants, and I ground my pussy against it, already wanting to be rid of the clothes. He obliged, unbuttoning my white cotton blouse and sliding his hand inside my bra. I have been told that once a man gets to my nipples, he pretty much owns me. That?s not exactly true. All it really takes to get in my panties is confidence and a good kiss. Daniel had both in spades.

The foreplay on the back row was hot, but neither of us wanted to fuck there. We were both performers, and no performer worth his salt puts on a show from the back of the room. Daniel stood me up and led me down the center aisle of that huge Sanctuary with my blouse wide open and my left breast exposed. Two sinners coming forward, not to repent, but to revel in their sin.

We climbed the dais and circled behind the pulpit where Daniel sat me on the rail separating the choir loft from the rest of the church. He unhooked my bra, freeing my breasts and pulling and pinching my nipples until they were standing at attention. My pulse was pounding and I was breathing heavy as I unbuckled his belt and opened his pants, sliding off the rail to my knees. I have a mouth made for sucking dick, and I took all of Daniel into it. When his dick hit the back of my throat, I locked my lips around him and pulled back out slow, and just before it popped out of my mouth, I swallowed him whole again. In and out, slow at first, sucking hard and rolling my tongue around the head. The low groan that escaped his chest seemed to echo in the large Sanctuary. Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound.

In what must have been a monumental effort, Daniel pulled me up. We had come to fuck in church, and my efforts threatened to derail that. He slid over the rail and pulled me after, so that we were both in the choir loft where we both stood every Sunday morning and sang sweetly for the congregation. This was the place where we always knew we would fuck.

Daniel?s dick was standing at attention and ready. He pushed my modest, knee-length skirt up around my hips and slid his hand over my pussy. Even through my panties, he could feel my excitement. He slid them down to my knees and moved around behind me, turning me to face the invisible congregation. He used his feet to spread my legs, and I could feel his dick like hard velvet against the crack of my ass. His left hand pulled at my left nipple while his right hand stroked my clit, slick and wet with my excitement. I stood exposed like the Whore of Babylon in that massive, sacred space. It was erotic and decadent, and I felt no shame.

I didn?t stand there long. His efforts on my clit had me moaning and writhing, and he was struggling to hold me in place. Once a man finds my sweet spot, I?m putty in his hands, and Daniel had his finger on the button. When my knees buckled with my first orgasm, he bent me over the chair where I sat for Sunday services and drove himself hard inside me all the way to the hilt. I gasped at the violence of his penetration. He was rock hard and wild. He pounded my pussy like a man possessed. I thrust my hips back to meet him, just as wild. The smacking and slapping of our skin mingled with his grunts and my cries and echoed through the church. And when Daniel pumped my pussy full of cum, I came apart at the seams, shuddering and shaking and making a joyful noise to the Lord.

Daniel was right. That moment was a gift, and I never stood in that choir loft again without remembering how we fell half naked and spent across the chairs, how we used my lacy white panties to scrub the cum spot off the cushion, and how Daniel made my body sing. I remembered it every Christmas and Easter when I returned home to visit my parents, and I remembered it seven years later when I married another man in that same church. Daniel and I still smile our secret smile on the rare occasion we see each other now. And if God has a sense of humor and adventure, which all evidence would suggest is true, then I think he smiles too.