Reverend and Mrs. Dicks go upstairs

"Still inclined to head upstairs now that our pastoral service is done?" Henry asked.

"Why Pastor Dicks, you have something left after covering Mrs. Patterson?" Dorothy asked.

"Always for you, my love," Henry said.

Dorothy smiled. "Always right after I've known a young man, you lovable old goat. Let's go upstairs."

They knelt and prayed beside their oversized four-poster bed. Though they never held services in their bedroom, they frequently shared their marriage bed with another couple, especially keeping up connections outside the church.

Next Friday Henry would be cleaving unto the flesh of Hope's lovely Black vice-principal Delora Evans while Delora's new husband Walter Thomas entered Dorothy's womanly temple once again.

Hope, Illinois had a surprisingly lively swingers' community that connected couples across boundaries of race, religion, politics and social class. The good news that Henry's church blessed the practice had pulled several Christian couples out of the closet and into the Loving Community congregation, but most of Henry and Dorothy's sexual partners were obliged to keep it secret. With Delora's school position, she could never attend their church, but Henry was grateful that he and Dorothy knew her and Walter intimately, the same as they knew some of the more socially prominent and influential couples in town. The town of Hope was in Henry's eyes a larger congregation in itself. Their daughter Joy was living witness to that larger if quieter loving congregation.

Henry raised the tail of Dorothy's housecoat. The grassy scent of fresh-sown seed tickled his nose, and he hardened. Her smooth, pale buttocks were hills of ivory, her cleft a fertile valley, the land of milk and honey.

"Oh Dorothy," Henry said. "You are my church."

She laughed. "And you're my steeple," she said. "Poke it on in me and out pop the people."

"What would our daughters think?" Henry said, laughing.

Dorothy said, "Well, Patience would say, 'Oh mom!'. Prudence would say, 'Well, duh!', and Joy..."

"I'm afraid of what Joy would say," Henry said.

"Joy would say, 'Well do it already!'" Dorothy took a breath. "Husband?"

Henry shifted his weight and eased forward.

"Oh, Henry," Dorothy said. "So perfect, my love."

"My rock, my lamb, my lover," Henry said, rocking forward into her.

At Henry's first thrust, Dorothy's body stiffened and her womanhood squeezed down tightly on him. "Oh Henry I'm...!" she cried out. Her neck and shoulders flushed pink, and her head dipped and rose as she came.

"My angel," Henry said.

The more Dorothy loved the congregation, the more she loved Henry. The more she enjoyed its members, the more she enjoyed her husband's member.

Henry, his staying power assisted by his recent house call to Mrs. Patterson, rode his wife through a series of orgasms. Pink, glowing, and flushed, Dorothy raised her voice in a joyful noise to heaven.

"Oh Henry, Henry, please..." she begged him...