What Emily Saw (Tales of a Church Harem: Chpt 8.5-- 18+)
In which Emily discovers something about her minister. And something about herself.
The quiet hallway behind the church kitchen always smelled like cardboard and mop water because that was what was normally kept there. But it was also the shortest path to the dumpsters out back.
Emily was taking out the trash after youth group. She and Jenna, the new youth minister, had just finished leading the middle schoolers through a morning of games, prayer, and near chaos. She loved helping when she was home from college. Just a few years ago, she’d been one of those kids herself.
But this morning, as she turned the corner near the kitchen, she froze mid-step.
Reverend Sarah stood, stock still down the hallway, one hand braced against the wall, her mouth open, and staring through the narrow window in the kitchen’s back door.
Sarah never stood still. Not in all the years Emily had known her. She bounced, smiled, moved and prayed. But she never stopped.
Now, however, dead still.
Emily was about to speak when she heard it too.
Not really voices… more like breathing. Panting?.
Then a moan. Muffled. Female.
She saw Sarah’s other hand slide up her stomach, fingers under her white blouse. She saw the flat skin of the reverend’s belly.
Emily stood still as a deer, chest tight and holding her breath.
Then Sarah turned abruptly and walked down the hall and around the corner towards her office.
Emily hesitated… not sure what had just happened, then stepped outside. The air was cool this morning. She started to walk to the dumpster, but her feet turned her around the corner before she got there.
She stepped into the mulch beneath Sarah’s office window.
It was cracked open and from inside, another breathing. The creak of a chair. A whisper… a prayer.
“Oh God… fuck me…”
Emily peeked. Careful… her heart pounding in her ears.
Reverend Sarah was in her chair, bent forward, hair down. One hand braced against the desk. The other a blur between her legs. Her whole body was working. Furious.
“He restoreth my soul…” she moaned.
The creaking quickened. The slap of wet sounds. Her legs tensed.
“…thy rod…”
And then the minister came. Violently. Her hips bucked. Her chair slammed once against the back wall.
She sagged. Caught her breath.
Raised the Easter candle from between her thighs.
It shone…. wet.
Sarah wiped it slowly on the Christmas stole Emily’s mother had helped embroider just a few months earlier.
It left a dark stain behind.
Emily backed away, her own lips slick. Her cheeks burning. A tightness just below the waist of her pants.
She walked into Fellowship Hall numb. The voices were too loud.
She went right to the coffee table. Napkin in hand.
Sarah stepped in from the hallway, smiling. Hair perfect. Cheeks a little pink.
Emily didn’t quite meet her eye.
“Banana bread?” she asked softly, holding out the napkin.
Sarah paused. Took it.
“God is good,” she said.
Emily answered without thinking.
“All the time.”
~~~
That night after dinner and homework, Emily sat on her bed.
Pajama shirt, no bra. Her pink panties darker now between the legs, dampening again as she slowly pressed her fingers over her bud, stretching it beneath the cotton.
She opened the little white box of confirmation keepsakes she kept in her nightstand. A cross. A Bible. A note from Reverend Sarah written in purple ink just a few years earlier, folded neatly beneath the tissue. And a small candle.
She unwrapped it.
Six inches long, maybe. Smooth and white. Tapered a little. It looked so small in her hand compared to the Paschal candle.
Fourteen inches at least. Thick. Ridiculous. And that had been inside her minister’s cunt!
Emily couldn’t stop picturing it. That impossible thing sliding into her pussy. Sarah’s back bent forward. The soft creak of the chair. The moan.
That moment where she’d said *“*thy rod” and gasped and came.
Emily’s thighs pressed together. She reached down. Slipped her hand inside her panties. Wet. Very very wet.
She moaned and bit her lip.
The small candle felt cool against her heat and slick. She drew it down between her legs, dragging it through her folds. Her clit throbbing.
She spread her legs, raising her knees up. Panties pulled aside.
The wax stirred the lips of her cunt, slick with everything she had seen earlier.
She pressed the tip between her lips.
Tight. Her pussy resisted for a moment, even the narrow candle. Then slowly, by fragments of an inch, the wax taper started to open her.
Her breath caught.
She pushed it deeper. Halfway in it felt like it was filling her. Her walls clenched around it.
Her fingers circled her clit. Slippery now.
Every movement made the candle shift inside her. It wasn’t thick. It wasn’t long. But it was huge in her*.*
She thought of Sarah again. Bent over. Sweating. Moaning with that massive fucking candle inside her. And now here Emily was using a candle gifted from her.
She pushed it deeper. Something stopped resisting, and she fluttered.
The candle shifted in her fingers, and her body began to call it in.
Like she couldn’t help it. A deep contraction. Her pussy sucked it in, inch by inch, until only the base peeked from her slit.
She moaned more loudly, hand flying to her mouth in surprise.
Her fingers shot back to her clit. Rubbing fast. Her hips bucked.
And she came. Hard.
Her cunt clenched down on the candle. She shuddered, her belly tightening. Her legs locked. Wetness dripped down into the crack of her bum.
She was still shaking when she tried to pull it out.
It resisted at first. Her body held it. Sucked around it.
Then a small wet sound as it slid free.
And she stared at it in her fingers… it had bent a little.
The once-straight candle now bowed slightly in the center, fine white lines highlighting the curve where her pussy had gripped it so hard. So hot.
Her lips parted in half a smile.
She wiped the candle off on the hem of her sleep shirt. A wet streak bloomed on the fabric. She brought it to her lips briefly.
Her panties were bunched near one ankle.
She put the candle back in its box. And the box in her nightstand.
Then lay back, legs still spread apart, her fingers spreading herself open as the wind from the open window brushed over her bare, wet lips like a breath.
She touched her belly lightly, tracing upward under her pajamas. And whispered,
“God is good…. All the time. All the time, God is good.”