Choir Practice

.  
Curious youth peek in on a lesson    
not meant for bible study, while upstairs      
the choir practices.      
     
Rutting in the basement      
to the illicit heat of the moment,      
late morning after church,      
I say to him as he withdraws      
and slides back in, not missing a beat:      
     
“Jesus died for our sins.”      
Licking sweat from his lips,      
using english on my hips      
to emphasize the thrust      
of his query, he grunts      
and murmurs with a frown,      
     
“Damn, what sins could you      
possibly be guilty of?”;      
this forcing from my lungs      
a delicious moan      
hung from my grin      
while panting up at him,      
     
“I love doing this with you too much!”      
to which he replies,      
cleaving between my thighs,      
“Then with my body      
will I wash you clean, and      
absolve you of your sins.”      
     
At that moment he pulls out      
to spray his holy water over me     
and says almost immediately,      
     
“Please wear for me, I pray,      
that Sunday dress I love so much,      
it shows your body off so well      
when later we go out to lunch,      
and then I'll gladly go to hell!”