Page 27 of Property of The Grump

I swear she grins as though she’s thinking the same thing too.

“I’m sorry for having such impure thoughts about Father Anderson,” she says, a whine in her voice as she glances between me and the Lord. “I shouldn’t have dreamt about him touching me. I shouldn’t have dreamt about him pulling my hair. I shouldn’t have dreamt about him sliding his holy cock inside of my sopping pussy. I shouldn’t have had these feelings, Lord. I shouldn’t be letting them consume me. I need help.”

Jesus Christ.

My cock goes hard as a fucking rock despite standing at the altar, thoughts of laying her out right here and now coursing through me. I’d lift her up on the prayer table, I’d spread her legs, I’d breathe her in, and I’d taste her sweet juices until my beard was covered. Then, I’d spread her wide and make her scream loud and hard in this old church. My filthy little secret. My little lamb.

I drop to my knees and stare up at the cross. “Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.”

“Tell God what you’ve done,” she says, her voice broken as her arm brushes against mine. “Tell God all the filthy things you thought about me.”

I open my mouth and close it again, swallowing hard as my cock pokes the edge of the step. “I dreamt about touching this woman, Lord. I thought about it a moment ago. I let my dick get hard at your altar with filthy thoughts of spreading this woman’s thighs and licking her until she squirmed and came on my tongue. I ask forgiveness for these thoughts. I beg for guidance. I beg for control. Please, Lord, help me.” I lower my head, my cock still hard and throbbing. “Help me keep this woman safe without ruining myself, Lord. Help me make sense of everything.”

The church door creaks open as I’m begging forgiveness, and I fully expect to see Leanne standing in the doorway with half the town, but instead I see my sweet, old mother in the yellow and white dress she wears every Monday.

I’m pretty sure this is worse.

She grew up here. She trusts me, believes in me, and I’m here, with a rock-hard cock, exchanging filthy talk with a woman who’s come to me for help at the altar of our Lord.

Guilt presses into me like a semi-truck, allowing my cock to recede, though it takes a second. In that moment, Wren glances toward me and bites back a smile before turning away to greet my mother like the sweetest, little, church mouse. I’mnot sure how she transforms like that. Devious and filthy one moment. Sweet and adorable the next.

My cock stirs again, but I stand and readjust myself, tamping away every stray thought as my mother and Wren talk.

“Betty,” Wren says with a bright cheery tone, “good morning! Are you here for the volunteer meeting?”

“Sure am! I don’t have much to give but I’m good at micromanaging.” She grins and leans into Wren for a hug. “I ran into Leanne at the market. She’s saying you two went on an early morning ride this morning.”

Of course, Leanne’s already running her mouth.

“We did. I, ugh, I had a family emergency last night and Father Anderson opened his doors to me. This morning he took me out to the lake for reflections.”

I guess we’re being honest.

My mom doesn’t bat an eye. “That lake is a great place for peace and quiet. A little far out, but the biker priest seems to like it,” she laughs. “What’s going on with your family, dear? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. My husband and I are just very different people, and yesterday everything kind of came to a head.”

“Is he the one that gave you those bruises?”

“Mom!” I groan. “Stop.”

“What?” she continues, reaching out for Wren’s hand. “I saw them yesterday when she was lifting something. Her sleeve pulled up. I prayed for her all night. I’m glad she found the strength to seek help. I won’t tell a soul, and we won’t let him take you from us.” My mother squeezes Wren’s hand tighter. “You belong to us now, like it or not.”

I’ve never heard words more truly spoken, though if my mother knew the thoughts I was having about this woman, I doubt her arms would be as open.

“You’re going to be okay, trust me. It’ll be hard for a while, then you’ll find your footing and life will start to look bright again.” My mother nudges her arm. “Plus, we can set you up with all the singles here at the church. There’s a singles meeting that happens once a month if you’re interested.”

My stomach tightens. “I don’t think she’s interested, Mom.”

“Well, she might be, honeybun. You never know. Some women need the strong arms of another man to get through it.” She grins. “Right, Wren?”

“Maybe.” Wren smirks and glances toward me quickly. “I do like men with strong arms.”

You filthy, filthy girl. My cock jumps against my zipper and I have to turn away to gather myself again.

“You know,” my mother continues, “I have space at my house if it’s too cramped here.”

“Oh, thank you. That would be lovely, but I couldn’t impose,” Wren says sweetly. “I think tonight I’m going to…” She pauses as though she’s not sure what she’s going to do.