Dry Humping

You first laid eyes on Owen at the Christmas communion service, your breath catching in your throat as he stepped up to the pulpit. He looked different from the other pastors, his skin glowing from his time in the Puerto Rican sun, his eyes sparkling with a vitality that seemed to light up the entire church. You felt an instant spark, a connection that you couldn't quite explain, but one that made your heart race and your palms sweat.

As the service ended and the congregation began to filter out, you saw your chance. You knew it was risky, involving a married man and all, but you were desperate to feel special, to feel seen in a way that you never had before. So you deliberately let the air out of your bike tire, hoping that Owen would offer you a ride home.

Your plan worked, and as you walked to his car, your heart pounded in your chest. But as you went to open the door, Owen's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. "You think I don't see through your naughty idea, bunny?" he asked with a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with a secret knowledge.

You blushed, caught red-handed and suddenly feeling very small and vulnerable. You stammered out, trying to come up with an excuse.

But Owen just laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine. "It's okay, honey. I know exactly what you thought," he said with a wink. "And as much as I would love to indulge in your little fantasy, we have to be careful. I'm a man of God, after all."

Despite his words, there was a hunger in Owen's eyes, a desire that made you feel special, wanted, desired even. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't help the thrill that raced through you at the thought of being the object of his affections.

As you settled into the passenger seat, you couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. You had caught the eye of the handsome, charismatic pastor, and even if he was married, you knew that you were special. You knew that you were worth the risk, worth the danger of pursuing something so forbidden and taboo. And as Owen slid into the driver's seat, his knee brushing against yours as he shifted the gears, you knew that this was only

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