There were days when life really sucked and this was fast turning into one of them.
It wasn't bad enough that she'd missed a turn somewhere and managed to get completely lost; oh no. While she was trying to figure out where the heck she was, she had the good luck to have a dog run onto the road and, in her efforts to avoid it, she managed to put the car in a ditch and bog it to the axles.
She looked up and down the road, trying to remember how far behind her the last house had been. A very long way. She couldn't see any sign of habitation ahead of her either. She sighed, might as well keep going east. There might be a house just around the next corner.
Half an hour later, she decided that life definitely sucked out loud. The weather had closed in. It was distinctly colder with a nasty biting wind and she'd left her nice warm leather jacket far behind in the car. Her feet were beginning to ache like a bastard. Sensible shoes or not, she wasn't used to hiking down roads.
At least it looked like there was a village ahead. She could see houses and what passed for a business district, with a couple of shopfronts and some tables and chairs set out on the footpath, and, oh joy of joys, a garage!
Right at that moment it began to rain. She was still some way from the nearest shop.
A small stone church stood on the left, set back from the road and with a small neat graveyard at the side. The door was open.
She ran up the path and into the church as the rain pelted down, big cold heavy drops. She was soaked to the skin despite being caught out only a minute.
The carpet muzzled her footsteps as she stepped from the vestibule into the church proper and finally out of reach of the wind. Silence. That silence that you only find in empty churches. She sank onto the edge of a wooden pew in the back row. She was tired, she was cold, she was wet. Could this day get any worse?
"Seeking sanctuary from the storm?"
She jumped and whirled around to face the voice. Son-of-a-bitch! She'd nearly screamed. Thank goodness she hadn't blurted out her first thought! Standing before her was a tall priest. At least she assumed he was a tall priest — he had the dog collar, the black shirt and trousers ... but the shirt was lacking sleeves, showing off a well muscled set of arms and a beautiful set of shoulders and chest to go with it. His piercing green eyes seemed to look right into her and his mouth was just begging to be kissed. Damn but he looked fine.
She blinked away the thought. He was a priest! What was the matter with her?
"Sorry I startled you," he smiled at her. She melted under the force of it. Oh, what a waste. "You looked cold. May I offer you this?" He held out a black jacket. Ah, so that's why the sleeveless look. "It's not super warm, but it'll be better than that wet blouse — you could use the confessional as a change room if you want." His eyes swept across her chest and something flickered across his face.
She looked down at herself and gasped. The wet blouse had become translucent and was plastered to her skin, showing the outline of her bra. Her cold nipples could clearly be seen through the fabric.
She blushed and stammered out: "Yes, of course." Grabbing the jacket she stumbled in the direction of the confessional.
She could feel his eyes watching her and she just couldn't help but add a little more swing to her hips. It was wrong, but she wanted him to look at her. As she stepped into the confessional she glanced back at him and her breath caught in her throat.
He hadn't moved, was still standing by the last pew. But he was eating her with his eyes. His lips slightly parted and his face slack with desire. He saw her look and his jaw clenched. She licked her bottom lip at him and began unbuttoning her blouse as she disappeared behind the confessional curtain.
What the hell was she thinking? Was she really coming on to a priest? She turned away from the curtain, shaking her head and mentally continuing to berate herself as she stripped off the sodden garment. But god, he was so beautiful!
As she pulled the wet fabric from her arms — damn, it was hard to peel off wet clothes — her mind made a lazy inventory of the man outside and the look on his face as she slipped behind the curtain. She hadn't imagined it. He was definitely one of the finest specimens she'd run across, and he certainly appeared to think she was worth a second glance.
Trust her, the first decent looking bloke she's seen in weeks has to be completely off limits. If he was married she could've justified it, but not a priest. Even if he did look interested, that was just wrong.
Suddenly she wasn't alone. Hands cupped her breasts and a warm body pressed against her back. She could feel his breath on her neck as he leaned in to nibble her ear. She gasped and leaned back into him, shivering.
"I thought so. You need more than a coat to warm you up," he breathed, turning her to him and hungrily kissing her mouth, forcing his tongue between her lips, tasting her, probing her, while his hands held her close to him, exploring her back.
She was melting into his arms - he kissed as good as he looked - when alarm bells dragged her back. She forced herself to pull away from him, pushing at his shoulders.
"We can't do this! You're a priest!" She was shaking, but not from the cold. Her hands stayed on his shoulders. She didn't have enough will to totally break the contact and lose the delicious feel of him.
He blinked, momentarily confused. Then he smirked. "Let me worry about that." Reaching forward around her body he traced the lines of her bra to the fasteners and expertly undid them, pulling it away from her body and down her arms. With a shiver she let it fall. "You need a him far more than a prayer right now," he said, still smiling, as he unzipped her skirt and let it join the bra on the floor.
His hands traced her curves as he kissed her collarbones, his breath hot on her skin as he licked down to her nipples. She shuddered against him and was lost, "Oh. Yes. Please." His fingers played with the edge of her panties, then slid beneath the elastic and gently tugged them off her hips, to join the pile on the floor. He tickled her bellybutton then moved down to her thighs. His hands gently parted her knees and his fingers began moving in delicious circles, lapping at the edge of her.
She moaned, running her hands through his hair, thrusting her hips at his teasing fingers. Her knees threatened to buckle and she wedged her shoulders into the corner of the cubicle.
He was still fully clothed and she was stark naked and barely able to stand, waves of sensation rippling through her as his fingers continued to work their magic, sliding across her opening and back to circle her now throbbing clitoris.