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Caroline's prayers

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: romeo64 Posted on: 30 Mar 2018 1 comments
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Sequel to my 'Caroline-series' of stories, submitted to WL earlier. I recommend to read at least 'Carolines love nest' (Oct. 22nd ,2006, category General), prior to this one.I was expecting to be able to recompose myself in the days after that night with Caroline in a sexual Walhalla, but I overestimated myself, remaining completely submerged in strong feelings of wanton lust. And it was delicious to give in. I didn't go out very much and when at home I was naked most of the time, with a semi-, but more often fully erect love wand, leaking pre-cum in abundance. Needless to say that I masturbated far more frequently than usual, replaying the events of that night in my mind.Four or five days had passed when I decided to try and contact her one evening. In those days the telephone in students homes was usually located in a hallway and shared by the people living on one floor, or even by everyone in the house. So one didn't know in advance who, if anyone, would answer a call. I anticipated this situation and was lucky that the call was being answered in the first place. The one who took it was (of all people) Amanda. "Ah, it's the naughty boy", she said with a laugh, after I had mentioned my name. I heard her shouting: "Caroline, it's for you!" and then, speaking into the receiver again she whispered with a lowered voice: "Be careful if you're thinking about coming this way. I might just tear the clothes from your body and rape you." It was obvious and not unexpected that Amanda had been debriefed.Caroline had suggested that we would have a light lunch together the next day. Nothing else was arranged or planned, at least not as far as I was aware. Nevertheless, having become acquainted with the Caroline of the present and her particular appetite, I thought I'd better prepare myself and decided to wear very dark blue cotton trousers and no underpants. This combination would be comfortable in more than one respect and pre-cum stains would be less obvious than with light coloured clothing. I picked her up around noon and following her proposal we drove to a small pub in the hilly, wooded area east of the city, not far from the love-nest.She looked beautiful again, wearing a loosely fitting white top with spaghetti bands, her nipples pinching the fabric, and a beige skirt which stretched halfway her upper legs. It had a row of buttons at the front, of which the most lower two were defiantly not fastened. The scent of a delicious perfume spread in the car. During the short trip she enquired how I was and whether I had recovered from our adventure. I told her about the state in which my mind and body had been during the past few days, and she said: "Poor thing, you should have called me earlier. I would have come to the rescue immediately."We took seats on the shady terrace of the pub and ordered drinks and sandwiches. There was only one other couple there, who seemed to be in the process of settling the bill. "I suppose that Amanda required a full report." "Absolutely. She was still around when I came home, apparently preparing for bed, as she was only wearing a pair of flimsy panties, although you never know with her. But the story couldn't wait until next morning. She wanted an extensive, detailed, in depth record. Summaries were not accepted. Obviously she got hornier with every sentence and I saw her panties getting more and more moist, up to the point where they became almost transparent. Initially she didn't touch herself, but as the story unfolded she started fondling her breasts and pinching and twisting her nipples, which are always looking large and hard, even if she isn't aroused. That girl has nipples the size of buttons on a record-player, unbelievable. Anyway, when I arrived at the dirty talk bit, she exclaimed 'Oh my God' and her hand went into the panties. Then of course I told her about the word 'cum-begging' and the wonderful combinations one can make with it. More girl-juice into the panties. 'Oh my God' she exclaimed again, louder this time. Well, to cut a long story short, eventually she had an orgasm like an earthquake before I could finish the whole story." After our drinks had been served, she went on: "You know, I'm convinced that she has fantasies about being laid by you, but then who wouldn't after such a story?""She made a joking remark on the phone yesterday, which seems to support your statement.""Did she? Tell me!" Caroline laughed out loud when I quoted Amanda."Fantastic..the horny little slut. Come to think of it, I wouldn't have any objection whatsoever if you would fuck her, provided I can watch...or, even better, join in."Now it was my turn to say "Oh my God", but I managed to shut up just in time. However, there is such a thing as body language and with my 'clothing arrangement' the effect of her words became rapidly visible and was quickly noticed as well."I see you like the idea." Under the cover of the table she put her hand on my crotch. 'Here we go', I thought. She squeezed, looking at me and smiling."Nice..." Then, after another squeeze, she went on: "Wait a minute, this feels like no underpants, you nasty stallion." In less than two seconds she managed to pull the zipper open, maneuvered her hand inside and grabbed the hard rod. Then the little devil started to make very subtle and very slow movements with her fingers up and down the shaft and whispered in my ear: "I'm getting dripping wet, imagining you fucking Amanda. I see it before me how you take her from behind. She is on her knees, submissively bent forward, her lovely butt pointing into the air...while you are driving that steaming hot fucking-locomotive of yours between her inviting, wet cunt-lips."All I could do was moan. Unfortunately, or maybe I should say fortunately, the approach of a waitress bringing our sandwiches interrupted this lovely little game.She concentrated on her sandwich for a moment and then all of sudden went in a different and surprising direction."I would like you to come to church with me.""I beg your pardon, would you say that again please?""There's nothing wrong with your ears."I knew that Caroline, like me, had been brought up in a Catholic environment. Maybe she, unlike me, was still an actively practicing member of the church. But then what would be the added value of my presence? Or was this the start of another surprise tour?"Would it be possible to tell me a little bit more? Are you thinking of next Sunday?""No, I'm thinking of...for instance tomorrow afternoon, or the day thereafter.", she said with a somewhat mysterious expression on her face."So what does one do in a church on a weekdays afternoon?" I probed. "Go to confession maybe, or pray...""Yes, maybe." Then she laughed. "I'm sorry, I was just teasing you a little. I will indeed tell you more, so that you can decide whether you will come with me."She explained that years ago, she had discovered that the church, her institutions and traditions evoked erotic feelings. The mere presence in a church was sufficient to wet her panties. Gradually she started to have church-related fantasies, like 'confessing' erotic or sexual exploits, obviously turning on the priest who took the confession and seeing that he was masturbating through his robe (under which he was 'of course' naked), or even taking his hard rod out. After her confession the priest would tell her that she had sinned so deeply, that he needed time to think of a proper penance. She would have to wait outside the confessional box until he had finished with some other people. When the church was finally empty, he would call her and say that she would be forgiven, after she had given him a blowjob."You are not the only one with such fantasies.""What makes you say that?""The fact that churches and the rituals performed there can, and often do, evoke erotic feelings, has been recognized by the disciplines studying sexual behaviour, like psychology and the medical science.""Really?""There is...I'm sorry, I've interrupted you.""No, please go on, I'll continue later. It is more convenient to do that somewhere else anyway.""OK, well, there is a theory that the origin lies in the tension produced by two forces: Human nature, of which sexuality is a normal and healthy aspect, on the one hand, and the church on the other, having created an atmosphere of sinfulness around sexuality outside procreation in the context of a marriage. Basically the church denies that sex can be a joy in itself, obviously an utterly ridiculous and hypocritical attitude. And the church uses, or rather abuses, her authority to create fear. Through the ages hell has of course been used for that purpose, but also more down to earth and subtle means have been invented. When I was about 14 years old, I was given an booklet, issued by the church, in which they had the nerve to tell us, in print, that one should refrain from masturbation, since it would cause disintegration of the spine. Well then, the place where those two forces meet, like two weather fronts with huge temperature differences, is, according to the theory, the church building. The fantasies and the desire to perform sexual activities in the building, for instance in a confessional box, would originate from a subconscious resistance against the atmosphere which the church has created. Others say that it's simply the fact that the more sinful and forbidden something is, the more exciting and attractive it gets."She was hanging on my lips."By the way, a similar scene as the one you just described can be found in a novel by Louis Paul Boon, albeit that in this novel the blowjob was performed in the vestry.""THE Louis Paul Boon?"Boon was a rather famous Flemish author, highly esteemed by his peers in literature within the Flemish/Dutch language area and by church authorities in Flanders as well, because of some works with religious themes. Caroline's amazement was very understandable, as Boon was regarded as a sort of saint in the making, at least by the church. Rumour had it that he published this particular novel to teach the narrow-minded moralists and hypocrites within the church some lessons, e.g. that he wasn't a saint, that they were neither, that God had not invented eroticism and sexuality for the purpose of procreation only, and last but not least that celibacy was insane."Obviously the hypocrites couldn't handle those lessons, so the church authorities in Flanders banned the book, but in their narrow-mindedness they failed to comprehend that this was the best advertising it could get. Ergo: People in Flanders simply cross the border and buy it here." "That is really amazing, but...but..." This was the first time I saw Caroline searching for words."Why haven't I heard about it? And what is the title?" "It is called 'Mieke Maaike's obscene youth'. Probably you don't know about it, because it has been published not so long ago. I saw it in a bookshop here in the city though.""And you have read it?""I have indeed. And I can assure you that you have to hold it with one hand while reading it, as the other is permanently needed elsewhere.""My goodness, that's a must-have then. Can we please go to that bookshop later this afternoon?"After lunch, she said she wanted to go to a place where she could tell me the rest of her story undisturbed. Following her directions we drove to the north, parked at an unpaved track leading into the wood and went along that track for about half a mile. As we walked, she said:"From what you've told me, I got the strong impression that you are not an active member of the church anymore.""Not even a passive one; the hypocritical attitude, the stubborn maintaining of celibacy, the insane idea's on birth control, including the condemnation of the use of condoms...those things have driven me out of the church. Far too long they have exercised power over people, threatened and manipulated them, told them utter nonsense and denied them the right to think for themselves. In my daily life, I try to live according to Christian principles, but I don't need the church for that.""I'm not an active member either. Since my parents moved to Norway actually. And even they hardly go to church any more, only at Christmas."We had meanwhile arrived at a spot where for only twenty yards or so, there were no trees and foliage on one side of the track, as they gave way to a magnificent, unobstructed view. We sat down on a bench which had of course been put there so that one could enjoy that view. From the high ground where we were seated, one could look down at the river and its windings, as well as the area of low land which was lining her. This low land, more precisely one spot in it, turned out to play a major role in the story which followed. The area has a size of some ten square miles and partly marshy as it is, it's almost unpopulated, except for one very tiny village. In the Middle ages there used to be a castle near that village (most likely the castle has been the origin of it), which commanded the approach to the city from the east as well as the traffic on the river.A few months ago, Caroline continued her story, a daring plan had come up in her ever horny brains and she had decided that she wanted to investigate how far she could get into the execution of it. She had of course told Amanda about it, who had said it was awesome, but also a bit scary. Nevertheless Amanda had let her use the Citro?n for the 'operation'.Now she pointed her index-finger at the tiny village down below. "That is the place where it happened."In the village was, clearly visible from where we were seated, a small church, dating back to the 14th century. It was served from a parish in the city and apart from weddings, there was only a service on Sunday. This church was the place where Caroline drove on the afternoon of a warm day in June, to try and act out her idea. This was also the one which she intended to revisit, preferably accompanied by me. About her previous visit she said that had been 'wicked, naughty, and incredibly hot'. A vague impression of what had happened only a mile from where we were now, began to take shape in my mind, but her following description was far more mind blowing than I could have imagined."Whatever you've been doing in that church, it was presumably not meant to be seen by anyone. Were you not afraid to get caught?""No I was not. The main entrance can be locked from inside with two sturdy 14th century bolts. The only other entrance is via the vestry, which has a door on the church side and another leading outside. Both doors remain locked when there isn't a service. I presume the valuable objects are being stored there. Besides, you will be surprised how quiet the place is, deserted almost, apart from the odd tourist. And he or she has just bad luck when the doors are locked.""But there must be someone who looks after the place, like a verger.""There is indeed someone in the village who acts as such, but obviously that can't be a full time job. So he opens the church before he goes to work in the city, and closes it around sunset." The lady had done her homework."I had converted the car into a cabriolet, by folding back the canvas roof. I was nervous, my heart beating in my throat, but also extremely horny. I parked, saw that there were no other cars or bicycles and remained stationary for a while, observing the situation. Everything was quiet and I began to calm down a bit. After five minutes or so, I left the car, determined to press on. The main entrance was closed, not locked, so I went into the church, checked whether it was empty, closed the door behind me, slid the two bolts into position and secured them. Phase one had been accomplished.I was going to play the devoted girl, so I performed the appropriate actions and gestures, like putting my fingers into the holy water font and crossing myself. Then I went into the aisle, took my clothes off, except for my high heeled shoes, and put them on one of the rear benches. Now completely naked, I felt the chill of the church and shivered, my nipples hard and pointing. Savouring the strong scent of myrrh, I started to walk slowly down the aisle, feeling the juices running along my thighs, the sunlight playing on my naked body through the stained-glass windows, my steps resounding. I imagined that there were people in the benches to my left and right, who were whispering to each other 'aahh' and 'ooohh, look at that, what a beautiful young woman!' Meanwhile I was wiggling my butt, caressing and cupping my tits and pinching the hard nipples. God I was horny."Obviously, her words did not leave me untouched, to put it mildly, but she herself got heated up too by her own story. I noticed that initially her hand dwelled along the button-row of her little skirt, but gradually she began to unfasten the buttons one by one. Actually there was no need to do that, as with that skirt, she could have reached herself easily without this unbuttoning action, whether the little devil was wearing panties or not. But it was a very nice tease."I genuflected in front of the altar between two prie-dieux chairs, probably left there after the last wedding service. Then I knelt down on one of them, put my hands together in front of my tits and started to pray.'Lord, since you have created the woman, I assume that you do not have any objection that this woman is showing the beauty of your creation in your own house. I am grateful that you also created the feelings of lust and desire, which I enjoy daily. I thank you for my body, my perky tits with its now hard nipples and for my nice butt, but most of all for my flower of love, which gives me the most gorgeous orgasms. And I'm grateful that you have given me the ability to enjoy the bodily love of both men and women.'"It was clear that she was now caressing that flower of love and although we were in the open air, I could smell the musky scent of it."Then I walked down the aisle again to the back of the church, wiggling my pelvis like a model on the catwalk, my thighs glistening with girl-juice in the coloured sunlight. The imagined people were looking at me with amazement, a few men had taken their hard rods out and I saw one of them shooting his cum more than a foot into the air. I went to the font again, cupped my hand into it, threw the water over my body and smeared it over my tits and into my cunt. There was a soppy sound as the water mingled with my own juices. I looked at my clit and saw it stick out very far. I was so horny, soooo extremely horny, that I couldn't wait any longer. Having parted my legs I finger-fucked myself to the most incredible and powerful orgasm. It was so intense, that I had to hold myself to the font, in order not to collapse. The convulsions went on and on.When I had finally calmed down, I took my purse and went to a corner where a statue of Mary was, with some burning candles in front of it. I put money in the box for a large and thick candle, but before lighting it, I caressed my body with it, then I moved it through the crack of my butt, pressed the tip against and into my asshole and finally pushed its bottom into my cunt, fucking myself with it, but for the time being I wasn't intending to bring myself to orgasm again; I was afraid I wouldn't be able to handle another one so quickly.In more than one respect I felt satisfied. I put my clothes on, unbolted the door and opened it slowly. Nobody. So I stepped into the warm sunlight and closed the door behind me. As I drove off, I shouted: I did it!, I did it!"When she had finished, I had a dry mouth, a concrete erection and the front of my trousers was soaked."Unbelievable! What a delicious, dirty, nasty, exhibitionistic, fucking little slut you are." "Don't forget cum-begging." She laughed out loud. "I had already noticed that the story was turning you on. You have been wetting yourself, naughty boy."She looked around, opened my zipper again and took the rod out. "Aaahh, he is hard as a rock indeed." Then she carefully grabbed my balls. "And from the position these are in, I would say you're not very far from spewing. This calls for a delicate approach..."She dipped her tongue into the small pool of clear fluid at the top and carefully touched the squirting-nozzle with it. Then she let her fingers softly walk like a little elf up and down the shaft, alternating this treatment with brushing her long fingernails along it. I felt the fingers of her other hand carefully touch my balls, and slowly going past them, into the crack of my butt. Keeping her open mouth stationary about an inch from the tip of the rod, she suddenly gave it a twist, at the same time pressing a finger against my asshole and entering it boldly. The eruption followed immediately and the orgasm was the most shattering one since I had fucked her in the love-nest. Expertly she directed the first jet right into her mouth, then her lips grasped the cockhead and the subsequent spurts were swallowed almost completely.She pulled something out of her handbag that I took for a handkerchief, but turned out to be panties, which she used to clean the spillover, before putting them into my pocket. She smiled at me, licking her lips with her mouth wide open, showing me the remnants of sperm. And then we kissed, a long, hot, slimy kiss. "So, are you coming with me then?", she said when we finally broke the kiss."Definitely"