Liaison Elder

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The wedding reception was running a bit late. The bride and groom had not yet arrived at the venue, yet most of the guests had already been served lunch. The grounds of the Jockey Club were immaculate, the grass well trimmed, especially on the Parade Ground where the winners of a race would be brought to prance around to the applause of a select crowd. The whole horse-racing do was one the legacies of the British colonials. Indeed the majority of the horse owners, Club officials and even some jockeys were the sons and daughters of these former masters of this country.

As we ate, I bent my head to speak to Ellen. Her neckline dropped in such a way as to let me see the top part of that beautiful breast I was sucking just a week past. My eyes swept downward to take in the rest of her full matronly figure that I so much enjoyed to hold, fondle and caress. When our eyes met, I hoped none of the other people at our table would notice the spark that jumped between us. There were two officials of the Woman’s Guild, a deacon or two and one of the older male members of the choir, seven of us all told.

I silently thanked whatever force was at work to assign her as the liaison elder for the Choir, forming the link with the Kirk Session, the council of elders and priests that ran our church. She had turned out to be so cheerful and so much at ease with us that all the tensions of the previous year lifted like a mist.

I had been struck with her from the first I had seen her being presented as the new liaison at the beginning of the year. I was to gather in the coming months that she was one of the wealthier members of our church, lived in the posh Karen area, which in colonial days had been a reserve of the whites. Gradually, with the coming of Independence, Africans had come to own property here; her father-in-law was one of these.

“On my walk about the Racecourse, I read on the notice board that you could sponsor an upcoming race meeting in honour of an anniversary, your birthday, a birth in your family or some other important occasion,” I whispered.

“Sponsor? How much?”

“Oh, only 25,000 shs plus VAT.”

“I would have thought it’d be more,” said Ellen, shrugging.

She was aware that my eyes were raking her body up and down, and shot me a half-reproachful look. She tugged her neckline up to cover her tits, but since the design of her güvenilir bahis dress was that of a low neckline, this gesture was not as effective as it might have been, and I smiled, light mockery in my eyes. She lowered her hand below the table no doubt intending to slap my thigh, but realized someone at a neighbouring table might see.

The MC was already having the DJ play some rousing numbers and calling up the women to dance to them, filling in the time. Some minutes into this, he announced that the couple had arrived. Women old and young, even those still sitting at their tables now stood and rushed to the entrance to welcome the bride with singing, ululations and dancing. The MC guiding them, they escorted the couple to the bridal table and returned to their seats.

As Ellen approached our table, I could see she was looking so enlivened by the dancing. Those who belong to the church do not normally go out to clubs, and indeed would be frowned upon if they did. Weddings were the only place where women can let go of themselves, sometimes in full view of their husbands.

The speeches began. The groom’s parents would say a few words (and some, insensitive to everything would drone on and on), then present their gifts. The bride’s parents would follow this in their turn. While this was going on, the electricity between us reached a peak. We slipped out by different exits with enough of a delay to allay any suspicion.

We came to her car by different routes and, once inside, fell upon each other in hungry, urgent kisses, lost to this world, or to the possibility of being spotted by church members, deacons, or heaven forbid, an elder! However, we cut it short and I drove out of the Racecourse grounds, avoiding the usual traffic jam towards town, headed to the recently completed by-pass. This brought us onto Mombasa Road after some kilometres, whose smoothness and jam-free expanse I enjoyed, until we came to the junction with Namanga Road that eventually leads to the border with Tanzania. But we did not get that far, stopping at Kirenga, where I knew there was a decent hotel.

We checked in and hurried as much as decency allowed to our room. As soon as we were inside, we grabbed each other with urgent, hot lust.

“Oh, Jules, Jules, Jules!” breathed my Ellen. My hands were roaming all over that wonderful body. Though not very big from waistline türkçe bahis up, she has huge hips, bum and thunder thighs. In fact, her tits are only just borderline B-cup; any smaller they’d be A’s.

“Darling Ellen,” panted I, as I kissed her, letting my tongue wrestle with hers. We were still standing in the middle of the room.

“I have been wanting you so badly,” she ejaculated. I started taking off her dress by lifting it from the hemline. It came off over her head. And there she stood in her knickers and bra! Her skin was so light for an African’s, almost like an Asian’s. I kissed her tits over her bra, running my teeth over the nipples. “What a long week it has been! I could scarcely concentrate at work,” she said.

“You could not have been as hungry as I,” I returned, between sucking and licking her. I reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting it drop to the carpet and releasing her smallish tits to my scrutiny.

“If you go on like that you’ll make my panty wet. And I still have to go home!” At the thought of her cunt getting wet for me, my cock stood up even more rigidly, if that were possible.

“Your dress is so long who would find out?” I ran my tongue flat on her tit making her scream with lust, cutting off her response. I let her down onto the bed and pulled her panty off. I kissed her thighs while my hands kept up the orchestra on her tits. “God, they feel so firm!” I thought to myself, my mouth busy working northwards to her pussy. I could see it out of the corner of my eye, lips swollen with desire. This rich woman desires me! The thought was almost more than I could bear! I licked closer and closer to her pussy and she pushed her legs wider, moaning loudly.

I cupped her mound with my palm, squeezing gently. The combination of hand and lips drove her as high as a kite. I ran my lips through her sparse pubic hair. She smelt so good! I let my tongue out and licked her outer lips. Last week I did not suck her pussy; probably we were in too much of a hurry.

“Oh Jules thank you so much for loving me all the way to my most secret place.” I parted her lips and ran my tongue in her slipperiness. She grabbed my head as if she thought I would escape. Her juices had a tangy, fishy taste. I sucked her into me, then flattened my tongue like a doggy’s and ran it from the bottom up towards her clit. She was speaking in tongues of men, güvenilir bahis siteleri and perhaps of angels.

I now flicked her huge clitty, causing electricity to jolt through her. I felt a warmish liquid hit my mouth in a gentle jet, and I knew she had come her first one today. I sucked her clit into my warm mouth, which caused her hips to buck off the bed violently. I sucked it in and out again in reward. She came again, her speech now incoherent. I tried to catch that come juice in my mouth, nearly succeeding to trap all of it. I cannot hope to describe its taste to you, gentle reader.

Pulling my body alongside hers, we lay for a bit while she stroked my cock. “To think all these years we have worshipped at St Adrian’s with out ever so much as speaking to each other!” Ellen murmured.

“Yes, sweetie, we have lost so much time,” as I lifted the leg nearest me over my hips and pulling my groin closer to hers. I was lying on my side while she was facing the ceiling. In this position, my cock nosed her cunt. I took hold of it and rubbed her pussy feeling the slippery warmth of her. Then I thrust my hips to push my cock into her. Two strokes were all I needed and I was in! We lay there for some seconds savouring the joint of cock and cunt. I looked lovingly into her face and flexed my cock muscle.

“But its so much sweeter, for all that,” my philosophical Ellen assured me. I was all the way in and pulled almost out of her. I drove my tool into her and out again, to a rhythm. One of my hands was free to continue working on her smallish tits as I fucked my liaison elder senseless. When I rolled the nipples between my fingers, she came even more powerfully, washing my stem with her warm juice. I wished I could place my mouth where my cock was so I could drink her in!

Something started deep inside me, causing me to speed up my rhythm. Barely three strokes later I was gushing into her menopausal pussy in torrents. She felt the flood hitting her walls and also came. As we lay there cooling down, climbing back from the roof of the world, we held each other tightly. She was thanking me profusely.

“I have never been fucked so beautifully, my darling, darling Jules!”

“A right royal fuck,” as I felt her pussy, in memory, clench over my diminishing cock.

“Do you know I have never before used such words, even in my thoughts!” continued my well-fucked church elder. “Yet they roll off my tongue like they are now native to me, since I fell in love with you!”

“Lets close our eyes and thank God for our new-found love”.

SLAP! SLAP! was her only response.

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