An adult stories – Trinity Sunday at St. Michael’s by Blacksheep,Blacksheep Jenna smiled as she lay naked in bed. In her mind she replayed the images of some church-themed porn she’d watched last night. As she pushed a trusty old vibrator into her vagina, she began to fantasise that she was a nun being pounded by the fat old priest in the video. Almost too quickly, she had a massive orgasm.
She was so glad she hadn’t had to accompany Reverend Morris to the religious conference he was attending in Manchester. It would’ve been extremely tedious. But on the downside, he’d be away for four days…not good given that she’d been hornier than usual these past few weeks. Jenna sighed as she glanced at the clock. It was time to get up. The Sunday Eucharist would be starting in an hour’s time. A smile formed on her face. A different vicar would be doing the service this week, due to her husband’s absence. She was eager to introduce herself to this mystery man, who’d kindly volunteered at short notice.
Meanwhile…
Gordon Leesmith’s eyes widened as he stared at himself in the bedroom mirror. He was wearing nothing but his white y-fronts, and his bulging belly was straining against the waistband.
“Bloody hell. Have I really gained that much weight?”
He and Mia had enjoyed a fantastic holiday in Tenerife last month. It had been their first trip together and it had been wonderful. They’d both savoured every moment, and to say that Gordon had overindulged on the all-inclusive food had been an understatement. He’d certainly got his money’s worth. The church organist had a weakness for brandy, cakes and steak. Now he was seeing the result of his gluttony.
“I look like a beached whale. Not a good look!” He said out loud.
“Aww, I like your cuddly belly,” Mia said, walking into the room.
“You’re too kind, love,” he said, trying to suck his stomach in. “I’m not self-fat shaming, but I would like to slim down a bit. I’ve gained a stone. I’m going to cut down and get myself back to pre-Tenerife levels.”
“Tenerife was brilliant. I enjoyed that holiday so much. Thank you for making it so special, Gordy-Pie. I love the bones of you.”
He embraced her. “I love you too, my chucky-egg. We’ll go away again in September. Where do you fancy next? We could try Fuerteventura. The beaches are nicer there. It’s golden sand instead of black, volcanic sand. Or we could go to Turkey. I really like Antalya…”
“I’ll give it some thought. But first…time’s getting on. Aren’t you forgetting something?” She pointed to his underpants.
“Eh? These are a clean pair. Honest!”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” Mia whipped out a pair of neon pink y-fronts from the pocket of her dressing gown. “You promised you’d wear these today.”
“Oh…did I?” Gordon grimaced as she held up the pants. They were so bright, they were almost radioactive. “I guess I forgot…”
“It’s for a good cause, Gordy. For every pair sold, half of the money goes to a breast cancer charity. You know the church is doing a special breast cancer awareness week.”
“Well yes, you’re right.” He held up the y-fronts. “The colour is enough to give you a migraine.”
“Men can get breast cancer too,” Mia continued.
Gordon relented. “Ah, what the hell.” He removed his usual underpants and put the pink ones on. “My aunt had breast cancer. I remember the ordeal she went through. Just…don’t tell a soul that I’m wearing these. Please!”
“Nobody else in the universe knows you’re wearing them, Gordy. My lips are sealed. You look sexy in pink ones.” She winked at him.
“Aye, true! Hmm, well the colour isn’t my taste, but I must say these are a really comfortable pair of underpants. You must’ve got a larger size. Right, we’d better hurry and get dressed. We have to be at church for nine. The pipes are calling!” Gordon said, pulling on his navy blue trousers. “Damn,” he muttered, as he struggled to fasten the zip and button. He really had put on more weight than he first thought. He could barely fasten his belt.
Reverend Jim Conway was a frustrated man. A small, balding, angry and frustrated man. He was rich, powerful and had almost everything he could want. He was vicar of St. Peter’s — a large Victorian church. He had plenty of vergers and laypersons to boss around, lived in a most luxurious barn conversion in the upmarket part of town, owned a Bengal cat and three luxury cars. His pride and joy was his brand new electric Porsche. It made him look good when he drove onto the church car park and it made him feel good too, knowing that he was a carbon-neutral clergyman. But his marriage to Sandra was not a happy one. He married her not for love, but for her family’s money which enabled him to start his own business back in 2000.
GodHub — a Christian-themed Internet café that pioneered a “pray and surf” approach, where people could learn the then-newish art of web design, coding and other online skills. The business had proved highly successful at first, but by the end of the decade, it was on the wane, and Conway decided to jump ship and train as a vicar. Fast-forward to 2024, and after being at several smaller churches around England, he’d taken over at St. Peter’s.
At work, Conway was king. At home, he was miserable. Sandra only let him have sex with her once a year on his birthday, if he were lucky. Because he had to find his sexual release in other ways, he had amassed the largest collection of porn in the diocese. As unhappy as he was with his home life, he didn’t want to lose his social status so he endured this sexless marriage.
He took out his anger and frustration on other church members, especially the latest unfortunate curate — St. Peter’s had gone through four curates and six organists since Conway had taken over. Other vicars who had the misfortune to meet him also felt his wrath. In particular, Simon Morris, the vicar of St. Michael’s on the other side of town. A dim-witted, incompetent dullard if ever there was one (in Conway’s opinion). His much-younger second wife Jenna however, was an absolute knock-out. What the hell she saw in Reverend Morris puzzled him no end, for he knew the vicar wasn’t rich, and had no wealthy relatives either. Conway enjoyed ogling Jenna at church functions. In fact, his favourite porn stars were petite redheads that closely resembled her.
Jenna was on her way to St. Michael’s. The late May sunshine was warm and pleasant, though the sky was already clouding up. A thunderstorm was likely in the afternoon. The weather had been disappointing for this time of year, and she was looking forward to a week in Crete next month. The British summer was turning out to be non-existent. The pale green dress clung to her body and accentuated her figure. She was carrying a modest white cardigan, but her upper arms were bare and a slit up the side of the dress showed off her slender shapely legs, that always caught the eye of Norman the churchwarden and a few others.
Inside the church, Gordon fidgeted about on the organ stool. The belt of his trousers was virtually chopping in him half. He unbuckled it. Relief. His larger belly burst out. But that wasn’t enough, so he unbuttoned his trousers too.
“Ahh, that’s better. Damn this fat gut of mine!” He glanced up at the pulpit, where Reverend Conway could barely be seen, due to his short stature. “Poor fella could do with a step stool.”
On the front pew, Jenna looked up at the bi-spectacled, balding vicar. So this was the infamous Reverend Conway whom Simon wasn’t too keen on. He resembled Hercule Poirot — minus the moustache. His eyes were roaming up and down her body, gazing up her legs to where her dress split, then lingered on her breasts. This minister in miniature was practically drooling as he ogled her.
Maybe I could use this to my advantage, she thought. After all, good things are supposed to come in small packages…
“Almighty and everlasting God, who hast given unto us thy servants grace, by the confession of a true faith to acknowledge the glory of the eternal Trinity, and in the power of the Divine Majesty to worship the Unity: We beseech thee, that thou wouldest keep us steadfast in this faith, and evermore defend us from all adversities, who livest and reignest, one God, world without end. Amen.”
Reverend Conway finished the Collect and he and the rest of the congregation bowed their heads for a few minutes of silence. He was doing an admirable job of standing in for Reverend Morris. The flock could breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that a more interesting sermon awaited them this week.
Gordon readied himself for the next hymn, savouring the comfort of having unfastened his trousers.
“The elasticated waistband is a brilliant invention,” he muttered as he began playing Alleluia, Sing to Jesus. “These underpants feel great.”
Jenna’s face was flushed with the sexual energy that was still bottled up inside of her. She wore no bra so that her nipples pushed through the sheer fabric of her dress with a plunging neck line highlighting her cleavage. Throughout his short and far more interesting sermon, Reverend Conway never took his eyes off her. He never stumbled over his words, and she marvelled at his ability to remain composed.
“Like gravity, the Trinity is complicated, and absolutely essential. God is One…And God is Three. It is as simple, and as complex as that. The Trinity is complicated… but absolutely essential. Amen.”
“I rather enjoyed that one,” Mrs Wilcox whispered to Maud Finch and the other old ladies, who were sat in their usual spot at the front of the church.
“Must be the first time I haven’t fallen asleep during a sermon, Gladys,” Maud replied. “I left my hearing aids switched on too. I think our dear vicar should take a leaf out of this chap’s book.”
It was time for communion, and as was the routine, the choir and organist went first, before the congregation. Reverend Conway was looking forward to placing the piece of unleavened bread in Jenna’s lovely hands. Why she’d be almost close enough to kiss…
Gordon adjusted his black open-fronted gown and raised his legs over the organ stool. It was a relief to stand up for a bit. That hard stool was damned uncomfortable on one’s arse cheeks. He took communion and everything seemed perfectly normal…until he turned to head back to the organ and suffered the most embarrassing wardrobe malfunction.
A chorus of gasps erupted from the pews as the organist’s trousers fell to his ankles, revealing pink y-fronts that were so bright, they were enough to make people squint.
“Ohhh, come to grandma!” Mrs Wilcox exclaimed, whipping out a brand new iPhone that her grandson had kindly purchased for her. Quick as a whip, she took a photo, and managed to capture Gordon in all his neon underpanted glory.
“My poor eyes!” An old man sat behind her muttered. “It’s times like this I wish I hadn’t had my cataracts removed.”
Reverend Conway found this spectacle hilarious and savoured the opportunity to embarrass the organist further. “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works! Matthew 5:16. I’d say the organist has done that, ladies and gents. What say you, eh? We’ll have to call him Flash Gordon from now on!”
There were laughs as poor Gordon’s face turned crimson and he quickly pulled his trousers up. Jenna frowned. “That was a mean thing to say.” Mia didn’t see the funny side either, and swiftly leapt to her partner’s defence.
“Actually can we all just give Gordon a round of applause for supporting the Pink Puppies campaign, which is the breast cancer charity the church has been promoting since Easter? He’s been a good sport agreeing to do the Dare to Bare underwear challenge. Apologies that it’s happened in church though…”
“Don’t worry Gordon, it’s for a good cause and I’m sure God won’t mind,” Jenna said, standing up and clapping. The rest of the congregation quickly joined in and began applauding him.
“Takes guts to wear underpants as hideous as those,” someone whispered. He must have balls of steel.”
Mrs Wilcox was delighted with the photo she’d taken. “What a magnificent bulge he has. I think the pink undies enhance it even more!” She smiled, enlarging the image and thinking fondly back to last year when she’d had the pleasure of seeing Gordon’s cock during Lent…
Gordon took a bow and composed himself. “Thank you everyone! Had you all shocked there for a minute, didn’t I? My apologies if anyone was traumatised. And now — back to the Sunday service. Over to you, Vicar. I won’t ask what you’re wearing under your cassock. That would be sacrilegious.”
Reverend Conway struggled to hide his irritation as the organist turned the embarrassment back on him and laughter erupted from the pews again.
“Haha, yes indeed it would be!” He said, with a pained smile. When communion ended, he returned to the pulpit. “And now, please stand for our final hymn, number 525 – “Eternal Father Strong to Save.”
“Ooh, that touched a nerve,” Jenna said to herself as she opened her hymn book. That vicar is wound up tighter than a violin string. He’s definitely in need of something.”
After the service, Jenna headed over to speak to her cousin.
“What do you make of Conway?”
“The guy’s a jerk,” Mia replied. “I didn’t like how he tried to humiliate Gordon. Might just be his sense of humour, but he seemed to really enjoy making him feel bad.”
“Yeah, he’s up his own arse. It was so sweet how you jumped to Gordon’s defence though.”
“Nobody upsets my Gordy-Pie!”
“I’m going to have a little chat with this temporary Reverend,” Jenna said with a wink. I’ll see you in the hall later.”
“Go slay him, Jen!” Mia replied, unaware at what her cousin was actually planning to do.
The choir had left the vestry, leaving Reverend Conway alone in there. It was now or never. She would never again have a chance like this. Her heart was about to jump out of her chest as she took the plunge. The door closed behind her as she caught the vicar by surprise as he removed his surplice.
“Ah Mrs Morris! A pleasure to see you again…” He gazed at her cleavage. “You’re looking swell…er, I mean, well. How did I do? Marks out of ten please?”
“Oh I’d say nine and a half,” Jenna replied. “Enjoyed your sermon. It was well-received by the rest of the flock. I had a go at writing a sermon for my husband once. He was expecting a visit from Bishop George. My writing was so bad I was afraid I would just end up getting my bum kicked by the bishop.”
“Your bum?” Conway drooled. “No one would ever want to kick something so soft and beautiful, I mean, er…who would want to kick you?”
Jenna straightened up and walked closer to him. “You seem to know a lot about my bum, Reverend.” Her heart was pounding and her mouth dry thinking about what she was about to do.
“I could give you a preview of some of my better talents,” she said as she came right up to him. “I’m very good at easing stress in a person’s body. It usually shows up in tense tight muscles like these,” she continued as she reached down and placed her hand on his bulging erection which was straining against his cassock and trousers.
Conway jumped as the beautiful vicar’s wife placed her slim hand on his huge erection. He had never expected anything like this. He was already drawn to this mysterious redhead who was the epitome of his fantasies. When he caught a view of her beautiful arse and breasts, this had already exceeded his wildest expectations. He watched, flabbergasted as Jenna unbuttoned his cassock, unzipped his trousers and pulled out his stiff rod. He may have been a small man, but his tool was disproportionately huge. Unfortunately, he didn’t get to use it very often.
“My, what a Holy Trinity!” A huge cock and a pair of overloaded balls.
“Wow, you must be very stressed,” the redhead added as she squeezed his shaft. “Look how tight and tense these muscles are. Don’t worry. I know just what to do. I’ll have to massage it to get rid of the stress.”
“Uhhh…oh yes. You’re absolutely right, Mrs Morris. I am stressed. I’ve been suffering terrible stress and anxiety for years now. It’s a nightmare. It’s got so bad…I…ohh…well I tend to lash out at other people. I may have to consider getting some counselling.”
“Let’s see if I can ease that stress and make you into a better, happier man.” She used both hands around his erection and began to pump them up and down. Conway groaned with pleasure. He had never had anyone’s hands do this besides his own. The few times he had had sex with his wife, she never touched him or did anything else. He did all the work to make sure she was happy. His erection became even harder, as the gorgeous young woman continued to work her hands up and down.
“Oh my,” Jenna exclaimed. “I’m afraid I’ve made it worse. Here, let me try this.”
She bent over and took the bulbous head into her mouth. Reverend Conway was in heaven. This beautiful knock out Mrs Morris was actually making his fantasy come true.
Jenna was surprised at herself. She had planned only to give him a hand job, thinking that would be enough to satisfy her urges until Simon returned home. But when she saw the size of his penis, she was mesmerised. For a small man, this vicar packed a huge tool, and she shivered with excitement at the throbbing shaft of flesh she held in her delicate hands. She couldn’t help herself. Like a moth drawn to a flame she bent down and opened her mouth as wide as she could to take in the huge purple head. Her hands continued to slide up and down the shaft as she sucked on the head, tasting some of the pre-cum oozing out of the tip. Juices oozed from her as she became even more aroused and excited. As short, arrogant and unattractive as Conway was, she wanted to feel his huge member inside of her.
Reverend Conway reached forward and slid his hand under Jenna’s dress to fondle her tits. Her pert flesh so soft in his hand, contrasted by the firm erect nipples against his palm. He felt her stiffen and suck harder as he did this. He continued to fondle her as he enjoyed watching her head bob up and down. She reminded him of someone, but in his distracted state, couldn’t think who. He let his hand slide down her body, pulled up her dress, then caressed her belly. His finger burrowed under her knickers and slid into her slippery opening. Conway couldn’t believe that this was actually happening – having his fantasy woman sucking on him as he pushed his finger into her most intimate orifice. It was too much for him. He grabbed Jenna’s head and thrust faster and harder as he exploded into her mouth.
She felt his cock swell even more in her mouth as he started to buck. The effect of his hands on her breasts and nipples was electrifying. When he pushed his fingers into her, she could feel the pressure building again. But before she could finally find some release in the orgasm that she so desperately wanted, he pulled his fingers out of her to grab her head. He groaned as his cum flooded her mouth. Hungrily, she swallowed as quickly as she could while milking his shaft until the pulsing stopped. With her free hand, she rubbed her clit, trying to get some relief from all the sexual energy and tension in her body.
A knock on the vestry door interrupted them both.
“Fuck!” Reverend Conway mumbled, zipping up his trousers. Jenna quickly concealed herself against a row of robes. She prayed whoever knocked wouldn’t linger.
“Um, come in.”
Norman the churchwarden entered. “Oh, didn’t realise anyone was still in here. Um, I’m ready to lock the church up, if you’d like to come and join us for coffee and biscuits in the hall, Reverend?”
“Shit, you don’t hang around in this church do you?” Conway snapped back, irritated at being interrupted just when he’d been hoping to plunge his holy rod into holy waters. “Feels like I’m on a production line here. Give me a minute.”
Norman was a bit taken aback. “Uh, sure, no problem. Sorry to have disturbed you.”