EroticReverie

*commissioned*

I think my leg is falling asleep as I sit in the pew of the church listening to Pastor John give his service. I use the word listening loosely, because my mind has wandered to a place that, if legends are true, should be setting me on fire right where I sit. 

I've been trying for the past ten minutes to shake the thoughts from my head, but I can't. It's pretty impossible. I let my eyes roam to my wife sitting next to me, where a husbands eyes and thoughts should be focused . She's wearing a long dress that goes to her mid calf. I try to conjure up the attraction for her that I've seem to have lost over the years. 

Even if I was able to reconnect to that passion for her I once had, it didn't matter. We'd both lost it. Our marriage was now just for convenience. Plus, we couldn't divorce. We'd taken those vows, and between our religious families and friends, it would only embarrass us both to have to admit that we were breaking a promise that we'd made in the house of god. 

I let out a slow sigh.  Sam wasn't religious though. Sam was....she was....damnit. I was trying NOT to think about her. For some reason though thoughts of her always came to me triple time when at church. 

Sam was my TA. She was my hot TA. In her early 30's, with a great curvy body. She was the epitome of what a woman was to me. Great large rack, a great big ass, with gorgeous, shiny and smooth brown hair and big brown eyes. She stood 5'6" to my 5'10", and part of me had no idea why Sam had started to show interest in me. I was in my 50's now , with a dad bod.  She often told me loved my gray hair, loved my glasses, and loved my dad bod too.

We've been flirting non stop while at work. 

I look at the giant cross at the back of the church.

Forgive me, I think to myself apologizing to Jesus, and avoid the mother Mary statues judging gaze.  Because i'm currently fighting an impending erection at the though of her whenever she bends over, and how much I like when she bends over. How much my cock likes when she bends over. The things I want to do to her when she's bent over. The things my cock wants to do to her. 

Shit shit shit. I place my hands casually in my lap , and then shift in my seat, trying to hide the semi hard on in my pants.  But that's what happens when you're trapped in a loveless marriage. You end up getting fucking hard ons in the middle of church , thinking about your hot TA, while your completely uninterested and forgive me, also uninteresting wife sits beside you. 

I wish the church had a clock that wasn't behind us. Everyone knows not to turn to look for the time. It's rude, and I forgot my damn watch. 

I lean over and whisper as quietly as possible to my wife. 

"what time is it?" I ask. 

She turns her head slightly, giving me a glare that could send me to hell, before turning her attention back to the pastor.

I feel like a child, ready to squirm impatiently in my seat, cause as I want to do is go home and rub one out in the bathroom while thinking about Sam. 

I look up to the ceilings, and to the sides where the stained glass windows. They really are beautiful....like Sam. Beautiful like her smile...her eyes...her hair....her skin....the skin of her cleavage....those big tits....her hips......that ass.  Shit. Jesus. I flinch, wondering if they can hear you take their name in vein if it's in your head and silent. I decide to apologize silently after anyways. 

When I look back down a kid a few rows ahead is turned in his seat, with his head tilted staring right at me.   Turn around you little jerk , I think to myself. Why do I feel like this kid knows that the man two rows behind him is thinking about adult things and that he's about to tell the whole church on me? I cast my eyes away, but can still feel him staring. Don't judge me kid, I think to myself. You'll be in my place in 40 years, sitting next to your wife, wishing you'd married someone else. Wishing you could fuck someone else. Perhaps your hot TA. 

When the service is over everyone congregates in little groups, and of course my wife has to wait around and speak with the pastor, as always. 

After about 15 minutes, he's made his way to us in the line of people in the aisle waiting to thank him for the service. 

He shakes my wifes hand first, and then mine. I almost want to reject the hand shake, because all I can think about is how wrong it probably is to shae the hand of a pastor, with the hand you plan on using on your own cock shortly, while you jerk off to someone who isn't your wife. I decide to make sure I wash it first when getting home, to make sure god's son isn't essentially rubbing off on my cock. 

My Catholic guilt makes me think crazy things. Better safe than sorry though. 

--

Once we get home, my wife goes about her business, and I go about mine. Her business is currently changing to go out and do some gardening, and I look up to the ceiling about to thank God, but then think better of it. Nope. Nope. Do not thank god for giving you time away from your wife to masturbate to another woman. Do not do that Patrick, I scold myself. 

I wait till she's changed  and outside and then go to our room. 

At first I just lay back on the bed, feeling my cock move in my pants as I close my eyes and picture Sam. I let out a little hum as I picture her , swearing I can smell her perfume, when I imagine her leaning over me as I sit at my desk, brushing her tits against my arm.  My palms facing the bed, I grip at the soft comforter. My hands itching to grab the tits I see in my head. 

My cock grows even harder, when I imagine her topless. When I imagine her stripping down and bending herself over my desk, and begging me to take her. 

Yeah, my fantasies excel pretty quickly, and now I've got my hands on my pants, unbuttoning, unzipping, pushing down my briefs and pants, just enough to let out my cock. I sigh as it no longer pushes against fabric, but is free. I grab it, wrapping my fist around my shaft, and squeezing. Squeezing a little harder and then loosening a bit as I start to stoke myself. 

I imagine myself behind her, cock in hand, stroking it just like I am now. I like to think God can't tell what my fantasies are, and pray that he's not watching me as I silently curse and whisper Sam's name as I stroke my cock faster, because right now, in my fantasy, my cock is inside her.  I'm trusting, and she's moaning, I bet she sounds fantastic when she moans, and even better when she cums. 

I groan thinking about how badly I want Sam to cum on my cock. I miss sex. Good sex. Great sex. I groan, wondering if I'll ever fucking have great sex ever again. IT's been well over a year since my wife and I stopped having sex, we don't even kiss, or cuddle, and sometimes, I sleep in another room entirely. 

Sam. Sam would kiss me. She would cuddle me. And I bet sex with her would be more than great. Of course it would be, everything sinful usually makes you feel amazing. 

I open my eyes, and just watch the bead of precum at my tip , sitting there, and then lift my thumb up over the head and rub it in, wishing it were sams tongue collecting the drops of it. 

My fantasy now flashes from fucking sams pussy, to fucking her mouth, and by the time I'm done, her ass will come into play too. 

I breathe a little heavier, groaning quietly. 

"Oh REALLY?! Really Patrick?!" 

My hand cups my cock as I jump up to the sound of my wife's voice, and then the scoff of her disgust as she rolls her eyes and shakes her head. 

Shit. 

It's not the first time she's caught me jerking off over the years, but somehow it disgusts her even more now that we're not sleeping together. As if my natural hormones, make me some kind of disgusting pervert. Seriously, she looks at me like I just told her I started worshipping the devil, or broke one of her Rae Dun pottery pieces. Not sure which she'd hate more honestly. 

"I was just..." I start, but then realize I'm a fifty year old man...I'm not dead..and I dont need to apologize for jerking off in my own damn home. 

"Oh, I know what you were JUST doing" she snips as she picks up her cellphone that she left on the dresser. 

"Honestly Patrick." she shakes her head and then just walks out. 

I let out a breath, and look down at my dick. Poor guy. I shake my head at my lap as it lays there, having lost about 40% of it's hardness from the shrill of her voice and her judgmental looks.  My cock retreated in shame. 

"Son of a bitch" I mutter as I realize, after her walking in, it's going to be impossible to get back my erection, cause as I can think about is her walking in on me, and wondering if she'll speak to the Pastor about what a pervert I am next time she sees him , and ask him to say some prayers for me. 

-

The rest of the night goes by pretty fast, and thank fuck, cause tomorrow I get to see Sam. Most people hated going to work , me...I loved it. 

So like a kid waiting for Santa, I go to bed, because the sooner I go to sleep, the sooner I can wake up, go to work, and see her. I think I fall asleep with a smile on my face as I picture Sam's ass. 

I dream of her too. We're at dinner, making plans to tell my wife and her husband that we've fallen for each other, and that we want divorces so we can elope.  In my dream, her husband and my wife are pretty understanding, after all who can deny dream love? What's mean to be will be, says my wife. The most rational I've ever heard her sound, even in my dreams. 

Then Sam and I elope, we go on our Honeymoon, and we go everywhere, and when I wake up in the morning, I have morning wood, because I woke up in the middle of Sam riding me on a giant King sized bed in our hotel room. 

But when I open my eyes , I cant even measure the amount of disappointment, when I find that Sam isn't infact riding my cock. Nobody is. 

I look at the clock and it's about 20 minutes before I have to get up, so I try to fall back asleep to let Sam finish me. But as soon as I'm able to sink back into sleep, the alarm goes off.