After church that evening, I stand and greet the other patrons alongside Andrew and Colleen. We give each other our thanks and prayers for the days ahead and wish each other a happy Christmas season.

Andrew knows that I don’t particularly enjoy spending time in large crowds, and he gives me a nod letting me know it’s okay to leave. I say goodbye to my foster family and head towards the only house that I’ve ever felt brave enough to call home.

I pull up to a stop light and wait for the light to change, singing along to the music coming softly through the speakers. I look over at the fancy sports car parked next to me and see an extremely handsome man looking back at me. He’s much older than I am—as old as Andrew, probably—but he’s clean shaven and he’s wearing a suit. He’s heading in the direction of downtown, where I’ll start my job at the law firm. I guess he’s working on a Sunday, so he must make bank.

He smiles at me and I can’t help but smile back. My cheeks go red again like they did in church, as I start to feel that familiar clenching of my pussy. I look away from him just as the light turns green.

Of course, I have to have this sort of temptation right after leaving the church service in which I was having such unholy thoughts. It always seems to happen that way. I can suddenly hear Andrew’s voice in my head, echoing the words of Pastor John.

“Sex has no place outside of the marriage bed. You don’t want to give yourself over to someone who may not truly value or appreciate what you have to offer. Only a husband and a wife can give that to each other. Anyone else is asking too much of you.”

I think of the older man stopped at the light beside me moments before and despite the words of Pastor John, I can’t help but think about what it would be like to be with that man. Not just go on a date or even kiss him, two things I’ve never actually done, but to physically be with him. What it would feel like to be held in his arms and what it would feel like to ultimately be penetrated by him, his cock slipping into my virgin pussy, taking me for my very first time.

I shake the thoughts from my head and continue driving. I drive past a billboard advertising a new movie with an extremely handsome and well known Hollywood actor. In my eyes, Sunday isn’t the day of rest, but the day of temptation. It’s always been the one day I can actually get out of Andrew and Colleen’s house and see other people. I can’t seem to help but fantasize about the men I meet, but the stranger in the car is particularly tempting. Good thing I don’t even know who he is, so I can’t actually act on my temptation even if I wanted to.

I pull into the driveway and silently pray that I can soon afford to live on my own. Having these urges and living under Andrew and Colleen’s roof isn’t exactly easy. I unlock the front door and put the keys on the counter. I know they’ll be at the church for at least another hour. I have a spare moment alone.

I walk into my bedroom and start changing out of my conservative church clothes. I pull off my blouse and let it fall to the floor. I, then, shimmy out of my skirt and walk over to the mirror.

I stare at my reflection and can’t help but admire what looks back at me. I know it’s vain to admire one’s own beauty, but I can’t help it. Even though I don’t really remember what my mother looked like before the drugs consumed her body and mind, I know that we have the same bright and beautiful eyes. Even on the drugs, they shone out like a beacon.

 

My body has always had natural curves, but when I went hungry or went around begging for food, it was skinny. Ever since I’ve been living here and receiving adequate nutrition, I’ve filled out, and I feel I have reason to admire my large breasts and hips, as they mean my body is having its needs met.

At least when it comes to food, I think, blushing at the thought although no one is around to see me.

I walk over to the bed and sit down on the edge of it. I slide off my flats and toss them toward the closet door. Lying back, I think about the man in the car next to me earlier.

I spread my legs and slowly bring my hand down on top of my panties. I move my fingers back and forth, feeling the lace fabric against my skin. I imagine the handsome stranger running his hands along my thighs, spreading my legs wide.

After several moments of movement, I feel a dampness spreading through my panties. A wetness, showing how much I longingly desire to be touched there by a hand other than my own. In my head, the man in the car has now removed my panties and has tossed them to the floor. And I do just that. I slide them off my legs and toss them into the air. They land on top of my desk chair.

I suck my fingers, lubricating them and slowly touch a finger to the sensitive lips of my already dripping wet pussy. The sensation pulses through me in an instant. A sensation I know will continue to build with each passing movement. I slide my finger along the folds of my vagina, slowly and deliberately, my fingers becoming more and more sticky with my own obvious wetness.

I hover just above my clit with one finger, knowing that if I go straight for it, the moment will not last nearly as long as I want it to. Instead, I slide a finger inside myself, letting my warm juices be their own lubricant. I slide my finger in and out of my hot pussy, letting my orgasm build.

Then I hesitantly add another finger, and the sensation is even more powerful. Fairly certain that I’m reaching orgasm, I slide my thumb along my clitoris, then each side of the sensitive button, forming circular motions that cause my body to go wild. My back arches and I bite my lip to stop myself from crying out. I move my fingers more rapidly and the walls of my vagina tighten around them as I reach climax. I slide my fingers out from my pussy and marvel at their glistening texture. My bodily juices covering the appendages.

I walk over to the bathroom and wash my hands thoroughly. Then I grab a clean pair of panties and put on my pajamas. I also toss the panties that landed on my chair into my hamper. The last thing I want is for Andrew or Colleen to be asking questions.

I silently send out a thank you to the handsome stranger who helped me get off. In my head, this is as productive as praying. And I hope it yields even better results: hopefully, somehow, I’ll see him again and be able to fantasize even more about what I wish he could do to me.