In Praise of Hope

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Hope is our church choir director. I have known her for 20+ years. Early on she was my children’s puppet team director. Back then, I found her to be a bit scatterbrained, moody and quick to provoke for the smallest of reasons.

She was married with two children but that did not stop her from becoming quite close to a man that co-directed the puppet team with her. I never felt they had been sexually intimate, physically, but Hope’s husband was definitely upset over their closeness and the fellow’s wife had enough concern to demand that they change churches.

Hope’s husband was 8 to 10 years older than she and it appeared that she leaned towards the older male.

I am 64 now. Hope is 50 now and has been a widow a few years. She recently became engaged and is soon to be married, again to an older man, Andre.

After her husband passed away, Hope seemed to mature. She ceased her lapses into baby talk, which could be annoying, and was less inclined to lose control of her temper. Somewhere along the years I began to like her and, I think, she began to like me. Our feelings of late could actually be termed as “fond of each other”.

I had been tempted to leave the choir a number of times, but my fondness for Hope and my constant search for new song for solos or duets kept me going. I also enjoyed teasing her at every opportunity.

As example; Hope, when directing the choir could not prevent the rhythm of the music from being reflected in the movement of her hips. With a large rear end and wide hips it had been the blunt of more than one humorous comment. One evening, she was showing us the rhythm she wanted for a particular section of music with her arms and, as usual, the sway of her hips. To me, it was quite provocative and humorous. Stopping the music, telling us that “was” the rhythm she wanted, I said, “could we see that rhythm one more time!” She knew exactly what I was referring to and stuck her tongue out at me. That particular time I took note of the reaction of the people in the choir, few laughed or smiled, and I took note to be more careful with the subject of ribbing.

Another time, I entered the choir room and saw Hope showing 4 or 5 of the older women a good portion of her breast that was of concern to her. After a moment or two I said, “hey girl, this room is co-ed!” She jumped and covered up quickly.

Later, I was telling one of my friends in the tenor section that my wife and I were going to IHOPS after choir practice. Hope overheard me and piped up, “can I come?” To which I replied, “certainly! I feel like I owe you dinner anyway!” The older women understood what I was talking about and busted out laughing making Hope blush.

As with any director, teacher or speaker, I glue my eyes to them. My mind may be a thousand miles away but my eyes are on them. I do the same with Hope and I think it makes her uncomfortable at times. I’ll admit here and now that, yes, I have thought of her sexually. It could be I’m transmitting that interest with my eyes.

This past Sunday we ordained two deacons and we were lined up placing our hands on them. Hope was sitting on a front pew at the end and as I stepped in front of her, and after my wife spoke to her, I looked down at her. I gave no smile I just looked into her eyes, hoping the look on my face was of loving fondness. She looked back into my eyes for long moments. Her eyebrows lifted ever so slightly changing her expression and she blinked once before she looked down. As I sat at the back of the church, I could see her playing the piano, another one of her jobs. When she was not playing the piano, she was clearly looking back at me. I began to wonder if the look I had given her was going to bit me on the ass.

The next day I received a call. It was indeed Hope.

“Hello Jedediah. This is Hope.” She said after I answered hello.

“Hello, Miss Hope.”

We very seldom talked on the phone but I recognized her voice instantly. I was prepared to tell her that I was facing the congregation and did not want to appear too familiar with her. Plus, my wife was right there. It was lame but it’s all I had!

My fondness for Hope is well known by a good many of the congregation, plus, undoubtedly the whole choir. We talk often between services but I do try to keep my distance concerning her when there is a crowd.

I was waiting for the reason of why she was calling. It took a course I was not expecting..

“What was with that look yesterday?” She challenged. “You’re a married man and your wife was right there!”

I threw out the first option and instead said, “There are two ways into a woman’s soul. One is through her eyes. We have gone through the gamut of feelings between us. I was just searching for the most recent one. That, and to convey my feeling towards you.”

“Words spoken in jest are still telling. I must protect my image, but you must know how I feel about you. Anyway, you made me very uncomfortable.”

“I apologize!” I said with sincerity.

She said. “So, fake angels porno what did you discover, looking into my soul?”

“That if I was not married, I might have had a chance?” I answered with a tone of question rather than answer.

“Yes.” She answered with convection.

She let the answer hang a moment, then.

But we both know that’s impossible and is going to be even doubly impossible in another two months.” She answered. “And you’d have to give

up your crush on Erin! You make me crazy! And by the way, before I hang up on you, what is the other way into a woman’s soul?”

“It involves a lady part and an orgasm.” I answered, throwing caution to the wind.

“I ought to tell your wife!” She threatened, realistically I thought.

“Well, before you do that and definitely before you get married will you have lunch with me?” I queried, again throwing caution to the wind and being extremely forward, like, I had never come close to before.

“You are a piece of work!” She rallied negatively. “I suppose you even want to take me to your favorite buffet in Carolina. How do you explain me to your friends down there? I would have to take off a day from teaching to do that! And Andre, what do I tell him? Being engaged is the same thing as being married! Dammit! You’re making my life difficult! I don’t like difficult! And I adore Della.”

“Is that a yes?” I queried.

Long moments of silence.

“Can you do Thursday? I’m already off Thursday and will be finished doing what I need to do by 9 o’clock.” She said with surrender in her tone.

Hope left her car in the parking lot of her doctor’s building.

I pointed the nose of my truck south as we were indeed going to my favorite buffet in Carolina It looked as if it might rain. I explained to her that no one was going to ask who she was and if they did we would tell the truth. She was the music director and we needed to discuss the upcoming holiday season concerning our music.

For the next hour and 20 minutes, I kept her talking about her mother being recently put into a rest home, a daughter living in Florida, her son living locally and her upcoming wedding. I said she needed someone. I told her I liked her new haircut and wished her a happy birthday, her 50th .. I told her about the grandchildren, our travel plans – Della’s and mine – and songs I had discovered and wanted to sing.

Our conversation continued through a most delicious buffet lunch. It started to rain – a nice soft thick mist all day type of rain. I noticed a few glances our way from the owner and his sister, but as I had expected and told Hope there were no inquiries. I knew they might come later!

I pulled out of the driveway of the restaurant heading back north. 2 miles down the highway I pulled into a boat ramp area of the Meherrin River. Deserted on this chilly early November day, I eased the nose of the truck to the end of the boat ramp at the water’s edge and shut off the engine.

“What an absolutely beautiful place.” Hope said. “And the rain makes everything seem so quiet and peaceful.”

I sat quietly for many long minutes allowing Hope to enjoy the tranquility of the place and alone with her thoughts.

“I can see why you like it down here so much.” She finally said breaking the silence. “You come down here every Friday like clockwork, don’t you?”

“May I kiss you?” I asked in a quiet loving tone.

With a moment of hesitancy, she turned towards me and as I started to lean over the console separating the bucket seats the seatbelt stopped me short. Hope closed the distance and we kissed long but softly. I reached to undo my seatbelt as we kissed, as did she. I reached behind her head with my left hand tenderly and kissed her with a bit more passion.

As is the puzzle with most “first kisses” in a secure location, just how far should I press. I pushed the tip of my tongue to her lips and to my great relief her lips parted and her tongue met mine. We struggled to get closer but the console was like the Great Wall of China.

Optimistic about her response thus far, I pressed on and moved my left hand to her shoulder, down her arm and over to cup her right breast. Her right hand went to my chest but she did not push me away, did not issue a negative moan. There was no pressure whatsoever, so I deemed it an intimate touch and began to squeeze her breast tenderly.

I was aware of her dress pants early on, but now I despised them and wondered if she had worn them on purpose. Still, possibilities existed and hopeful of not being halted, I slipped my hand under her heavy sweater and continued my attention to her breast. Her increased breathing and her tongue fencing with mine gave me peace of mind and the desire to push the envelope. But deep down inside I knew you could only do so much in the front seat of a Tacoma, extended cab.

With me thinking of which avenue to venture down, the hand on my chest did push me away. It did not feel like a rigid fake cop porno jester of “stop” but a softer “give me a second”. I backed away slightly and she gently pulled my arm and hand from underneath her sweater. Then, she reached up under her sweater and unclipped the front of her bra. She reached to bring me back into the fold and I found, slipping my hand back under the sweater, not one, but two bare, warm, ample breasts to fondle and play with, finding Hope’s nipples large and standing firm.

But, like all good fantasies they come to an end. Breaking our kiss, intending to lift Hope’s sweater and gaze upon the breast I had been toying with, maybe making an attempt to suckle one or both, I caught the flash of blue in my rearview mirror. With the windows of my shell fogged up, I assured Hope all was well and opened the door to the truck, exiting with both hands in the air. I approached the patrol car.

“Hey Jed! I thought it was your truck setting down here. You by yourself?” Carl, one of five County Sheriff deputies, queried.

“Good to see you, Carl.” I offered in greeting, dropping my hands “No. Me and a friend – a lady friend – just enjoying a rainy day by the river.”

“If I’d known that, I left you be!” The deputy said apologetically.

“Hey, you gotta check things out!” I said.

“Apologize to the lady. I’m out of here!”

The blue lights died as Carl put the patrol car in reverse. I watched him go and then reentered the truck only slightly damp from the interruption. But the interruption was enough to break the moment. I found her sitting straight, her seatbelt back in place, and no doubt her bra clipped back together. Her words confirmed it.

“It’s getting late, Jedediah.” I suppose, we should start heading back.

It would have been crazy to argue. I felt very fortunate the way the afternoon had gone.

Driving back north, I told her about the river systems in the area, about the history of the restaurant, how it used to take an hour and a half just to get an order of fried chicken. But I never cared because the country atmosphere and the food were good. I told her I wished some other time we’d have the opportunity to drive down some of the back roads, and, how each season made the countryside look different. My heart sank when I did not receive the hoped for response of, “that would be fun” or “me too”.

The time driving back seemed to pass in a flash. I pulled into a parking spot next to her car determined that this would not be the last time to be with her.

“Hope, I know this is crazy, but I would really like to spend some more time with you.” I said, making it quite clear what I desired with my next words. “To be with you. Do you understand?”

“I know what you want to hear. I want to be saying it.” She began. “But it would be impossible to arrange.”

“Maybe not as hard as you think. I’ve been thinking,” I proposed. “Della is going to be out-of-town in two weeks. I know you go down and spend the night near your mother’s home when she’s going to see a doctor. We could get a motel room just as you do – problem solved.”

Hope sat thinking for a few long minutes that seemed like an eternity. I sat studying her, thinking of the passionate way she had kissed me, and the warmth of her breasts.

“I know which motel would be safe.” She finally said. “I’ll get the number to you. Check your email tomorrow morning. Get us a room behind the motel. Let me know the date as soon as you can, okay?”

“Okay.” I replied, taking her left hand, squeezing it tenderly and kissing it lightly.

I sat in the parking lot for a few minutes after Hope had left. I thought of her words, “and you’d have to give up your crush on Erin”, aka Song Bird. I’d had a crush on Erin since I had met her in her early 20s.

Hell, Erin’s mother knew it and teased, “you two behave yourselves”, whenever we met to practice a duet. My wife even knew it! She used to tease me about my crush on the young blonde with a large bubble ass. My wife even pointed her out one Sunday as she crossed the parking lot to her car, wearing ultra-thin white dress pants, her polka-dotted underwear clearly showing through the material. “What was that girl thinking” I laughed. I don’t know why but I always imagined Erin wearing bikini underwear, and that pair of underwear covered her whole ass! I should not have been surprised that Hope had picked up on my crush on the young girl.

Hope or Erin? I was sure glad I didn’t have to make that choice. My wife was fit and trim, 5’9″ and 138 pounds. It made me wonder why I was attracted to the more “hefty” woman?

Within a couple of days, the date was set and I had made reservations at the motel, in person and checking out the room.

As luck would have it the following Sunday, after the Thursday we had had lunch, I did not have the opportunity to chat with Hope. We looked at each other often during the service. Wednesday night, choir practice, and again there was no time when we were alone.

The fake hospital porno Sunday before we were to meet on Tuesday I found her at the piano with no one near.

“Alone at last.” I said moving to the side of her pretending to look at the music and muttering the words on the paper.

“It’s a busy time of the year.” She said. “But I feel like you’re avoiding me?”

“I’m hurt, pretty lady!” I replied, with humor in my tone. “I miss talking to you terribly!”

I knew in the back of my mind that there would be second thoughts on her part, and on my part too. I had flirted with many women over my 40+ years of married life but I had never fooled around on my wife, until now. Then, she voiced it!

“You’re not having second thoughts are you?”

“Of course not!” I replied with a little white lie. “Are you?”

“I just feel bad lying to Andre. But, no, no serious second thoughts here.” She assured me.

I thought it best to change the subject and we chatted a few more minutes before we both headed for the choir room.

I sat in the motel room watching TV waiting for Hope to arrive at 7 PM. The only light in the room was a lamp on the night table on the right-hand side of the bed, the bathroom side.

Her knock finally came and I clicked the TV off before answering the door. Never to be surprised, I peeked through the curtain before opening the door. Happily, I saw her wearing a dark blue denim dress with straps over the shoulders, a white shirt underneath. She carried a small bag, which she dropped onto the chair. Closing the door, I turned and she was close. She kissed me tenderly.

“I thought about your hand on my breast all the way down here!” She whispered, breaking our kiss and hugging me tightly.

I backed her towards the bed. Her legs buckled as they came in contact with the bed and as she fell I had to catch myself. I dropped to my knees and pulled her to a sitting position. I put my arms around her ample hips and put my head in her lap.

“Hope, I wanted this for so long.” I whispered, as she toyed with my hair. “I can’t believe it is happening!”

I pushed myself up moving over her causing her to let back once more. She scooted her ass back quickly across the bed. I followed her and her legs came up and engulfed me as she gathered up her dress using both hands, pulling it up and clear, revealing snow-white underwear. Never having seen her legs, I glanced quickly down, finding them milky white and smooth.

We kissed passionately and were soon dry humping, she getting more direct stimulation causing her breathing to increase and voicing numerous moans. My heart was racing, amazed that Hope had become aroused so quickly. I had expected a subdued, a more shy, Hope and a much slower progression, but then it struck me that the lady was passionate about anything she did. I began to envy Andre.

I reached to fumble with my zipper. I was ecstatic that I had decided to go commando, there was not going to be any briefs to fight with. Aware of what I was doing, and having achieved it, Hope reached with her left hand and pulled the crotch of her panties to one side. I placed the head of my cock at the bottom of her labia and pulled it up between the crack until the head of my cock punctuated ever so slightly the entrance to her pussy. I pushed into her slowly. The firmness of her kiss and her moan increased proportionately with the depth of my penetration, ending with a contended sigh. Coupled, holding my cock deep into her, she stilled beneath me and pulled her lips from mine, breathing slowly but lustfully in my ear.

After long moments, I felt her pelvis push against me and I began to stroke into her slowly.

“Just for a few minutes, Jedediah.” She whispered. “I don’t want to reveal my soul to you quite yet. Don’t push too hard against me or I will come. I just want to enjoy your cock the way you’re doing it – nice and slow.”

“Have no fear, my sweet.” I assured her. “The night is young.”

I did test the waters a bit, toying with her resolve! Occasionally, I pushed deep pressing firmly against her, causing her to inhale deeply and moan with determined restraint in her tone.

“I told you not to do that!” She whispered, with a teacher’s scorn.

“If you fear you are a one orgasm woman, dismiss the thought!” I assured her. “You’re not getting out of this room without at least three or four. I have plans for you that your mother was too embarrassed to tell you about.”

“You’re bad!” She chastised teasingly. “I’ll hold you to that! I’m ready if you are. Just keep it slow.”

With her permission, I no longer toyed with her. I began to pull mostly out of her, pushing slowly back into her, applying pressure to her pussy and, I hoped, clit. Passive, only in the movement of her ass, her breathing and moans relayed her pleasure to my ears.

“Lordy! Lordy! Lordy! Don’t stop!” She begged.

How many times I pumped into her this way I don’t know, as I didn’t keep count. Somewhere along the way her hands gripped my jeans and pulled me tight against her as her ass pushed hard against my cock. I followed her rhythm and we began fucking strenuously, but my cock never pulled out of her more than a half inch. I felt the elastic of her panties against the shaft of my cock.

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