Kitchen Grope

"Smack" loudly echoed off the church kitchen walls as he slapped my ass. Not a soft or playful spank but rather a 'I mean business' spank making me take a sharp breath. "Smack" even harder on my other ass cheek. "Ouch! Damn!" I uttered out loud as I leaned forward bracing my hands against the large stainless steel sink preparing for what was to come next.

I had just stopped him from untucking my shirt from my jeans so that the young preacher's son could check out for himself whether I was wearing full panty hose or just thigh highs. He slipped that question into our causal conversation a few minutes earlier when he told me that the main kitchen fridge was out of order and that 50 lbs of butter had melted earlier today. I ignored his obviously inappropriate question and tried to just talk church business. As I turned around to continue washing the large pans that I had used to cook tomorrow's pulled pork dinner, he had spanked my ass hard. Really hard! He pushed me forward making me grab the sink edge to maintain my balance. He was determined as he grabbed the bottom of my shirt and yanked it out of my jeans exposing my lower back and the tops of my patterned nylons. He ran his finger tips along the tops.This guy has a severe nylon fetish. He always checks out what I wear since he knows that I almost always wear them. I love how I look in nylons. It makes me feel sexy even if I am 12 years older than him and I am a happily married mother of three wonderful kids. Happily married. Wonderful husband. Trying to be good. Don't want to cheat or even fool around.

"Stop. Don't!" I tried to stop him from feeling the tops of my nylons but he did not stop. He kept feeling the tops, sliding his plump fingers just inside of the tops a few inches then back and forth and around to my sides. 'Oh God,' it felt so good to be touched but also so wrong. I have to make him stop. "No, no, NO! I have to be good. Stop!" as I said it he moved all the way around to my front and unbuttoned my jeans, pulling them down just a bit exposing even more nylons. He reached down the front of my nylons and cupped me between my legs. I gasped at his sudden boldness and aggressive actions right out here in the kitchen. I was paranoid about someone coming in and catching us with him touching a married woman's nylon covered crotch.

"I love that you go commando. Wife still wears panties under hers." He whispered into my ear. Note to self...'Talk to wife on how to be sexier for her man!'

I reached down and grabbed his wrist to make him remove his hand from inappropriately touching me. I had to hurry as I was getting wetter and quickly approaching the point of losing control. My mind was saying 'no' but my body was responding in a most wonton naughty way. Just as I was successful at removing his hand, I was sure this was over and I was safe, he very quickly slid his free hand up along my stomach and right on top of my bra grabbing my boob very hard. Not good. I love to have my boobs man-handled. I bit my lower lip to try to silence the moan that had escaped from my mouth. God I hope he did not hear that. The last thing I need to do is to give him any sign of encouragement. This is bad, very bad. He started to squeeze and release, squeeze and release. How does he know? I am caving. I can't. I have to be strong.

He shook his arm free of my grasp and cupped my other breast squeezing both at the same time. "No, no, no. Don't, don't don't." I pleaded but instead of releasing his double grasp, he pushed his groin hard against my pantyhose covered ass. He ground and pushed against me. I could feel just how hard he had become. I had to hold on as he was pushing so forcefully. I wanted to move his hands away but couldn't move my own hands up off of the sink without falling over. He released his grasp. 'Finally! I'm free. This is over.' I thought to myself.

Then just as quickly my hopes of freedom were dashed as he went up under my shirt with both hands slowly moving up my stomach. I held my breath sucking in my stomach for his roving hands. I don't want him to feel my large tummy but on the other hand I do love having it touched, just like he is doing. I am a big ball of contradictions. I know it. I'm a mess. His fingers stopped just under my bra cups then he just lifted them right up and grabbed naked boob flesh. "N, no, noooooooo. Stooooooop. You mustn't, you, you.... Oh God!" I shouted out as he pinched both of my fat, extended nipples at the same time. "Oh, oh, oh!" he twisted them clockwise as he pinched them between his thumb and forefinger. "God, oh God, Oh My God!" I was losing the battle. My body was winning. He was winning. He then pinched them even harder as he twisted both of my hard nipples counter clockwise. "Oh DAMN!" my butt was gyrating back against him and his hardness. I was melting. He knew it.

He leaned in close and said he wanted to see my feet and my pretty hose. I dropped my shoe. He picked up my foot off the ground, started stroking it while feeling the hose. He stroked up my leg inside of my jeans reaching as far as he could. He turned me around by my foot making me hop on one leg to remain upright. He stroked my foot up and down as he placed it right on the crotch of his pants. I don't know what happened next that made me push my foot into his groin area and search out his hard dick, but I started giving this married man a hose covered foot job right in our church kitchen. I am so bad. I am going to Hell for sure.

The more he moaned, the more I moved on him with longer strokes and pushing my foot against him even harder. He ran his hands up my legs over my jeans. He was stroking my legs as I was stroking him. He was getting close. I was moaning almost as loudly as he was when all of a sudden we heard the Assembly Hall door open.

We both froze then scurried to get our clothes back into order. He quickly walked away and back up to his office just as the repairman entered the kitchen, looked quizzically at me and headed over to our non-working fridge. I turned around to finish washing not quite sure what he had seen or if I had put myself back together.

My phone chimed loudly as a new text message came in. 'That was HOTT!'