Chapter 2: Meeting the Family

Sunday morning I was awake long before my alarm went off. The first thing to enter my mind was, “Holy crap, I’m going to fuck a guy in front of his wife today!”

God it made me so horny just to think about it! There was no way I was doing anything in this state so for the next thirty minutes or so I masturbated, making myself cum at least twice with a third time debatable as it could have been counted as a continuation of the second one.

After I was finished taking care of my morning “needs”, I stood in front of my closet for the longest time, debating what to wear to church. Had we planned to meet in a bar, it would have been a lot easier but in a church ... well that was a totally different proposition, especially since it was a Southern Baptist church. I’d been at the one they attended once before and while it was by no means the most fundamentalist in the area, it still wasn’t exactly liberal in its policies. Put another way ... wearing a short skirt with no underwear would NOT go over very well and this was the type of church where they would be more than willing to ask you to leave if they felt your dress was “inappropriate”.

After considerable debate I picked out a dark skirt that while still a couple inches above the knee, was not all that tight and had almost zero chance of exposing myself to anyone. Despite some naughty thoughts to the contrary, I caved in and wore regular panties underneath. God, how long had it been since I had worn cotton panties to church - or anywhere for that matter! A vest over a white blouse did an effective job of hiding the fact I wasn’t wearing a bra, yet still allowing for easy access should the need arise. Maybe I should have worn a bra but a girl has to draw the line somewhere! Even though it was quite cold I wasn’t about to wear pantyhose so a pair of dark thigh-highs finished out the outfit.

Looking in the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door, I saw what on the outside appeared to be your typical 20-something college grad ready for church. It wasn’t something a mom would wear but still a little more “grown-up” than your typical teenage garb. I chose some heels that were rather conservative, definitely not any of my “come fuck me” ones. A small black purse and I was ready to go to church, as innocent as could be.

As I got in my car and started to drive away from my apartment, I felt a moment pang of guilt as I turned in the opposite direction to what I should have. Sunday mornings were traditionally time I spent with my dad after which we would go to church together. Sitting in the pews, listening to the sermon while his hand was on my leg, feeling his cum draining from me slightly onto the pew cushion below me, was something I looked forward to every week - just as I knew he did. I’d called him earlier to explain why I wouldn’t be stopping by and the disappointment in his voice almost broke my heart. At the same time, once he understood the reason why I wasn’t coming over, he seemed to cheer up a bit after making me promise to tell him all the details the next time we met.

The church was a bit of a drive but eventually I made it, arriving just a few minutes before the service was about to start. I hurried towards the sanctuary entrance and as I passed through a gathering area I heard voice calling me. “Kelly, over here!”

I looked for the person calling me and saw Barbara waving me over from the other side of the room. As I approached, I recognized her husband and kids from the photos I’d seen in her bedroom the weekend before. She was in a long print dress while her husband was in a grey suit with a red tie. Her daughter was dressed in a conservative dress as well while the boy wore just a short and tie, without a jacket. They blended in with the rest of the congregation, nothing whatsoever to indicate they were having any issues or how those issues were going to addressed before long.

“Kelly, so nice you could make it!” she greet me, as if I was there under more altruistic motivations. “I want you to meet Joel, my husband. Joel, this is Kelly, the girl I was telling you about.”

Something about the way she said “the girl” made it clear I wasn’t just the babysitter. Joel turned to me and smiled. Suddenly I felt a slight chill run down my spine. It was the way he looked at me I guess. It wasn’t like I was some new person at church he was being introduced to but rather more like I was a slut at a whore ranch being presented to a new customer. Yes, there was no doubt that he knew who I was and why I was there and there was not an ounce of doubt in my mind that he wanted to fuck me. There is just that look a man gives you that every girl learns early on, no matter what her morals or convictions. You don’t have to have sex to know when a man wants to fuck you.