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Image for the poem Altar Call

Altar Call

Dizzy from the sudden silence away from the loud music, we stood in relief at our escape. Those 5th inning church events can get loud and Susan, the preacher’s daughter, seemed uncomfortable, so I asked her to follow me.                                
     
“I noticed you seemed sad inside,” I said.                                  
     
“A little. High school will be over soon, and I’ve missed out on so much.”        
 
“Missed out?” I said.                                  
     
“I’m 17, no dating, just study and work.” Susan stood there in her crisp blue jeans and black sweater. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders around a kind, baby face. Her nose had always caught my attention, with its little upturn at the tip.                                  
     
“Yes, life can be a drag. But, you’re a popular one for sure, and the top of our class.”                                  
     
“Doesn’t matter if you’re lonely?”                                  
     
“Lonely?”                                  
     
“I’ve never been kissed,” she said as she leaned toward me. I was startled but bent down and kissed her lips. Her eyes were closed and she stood still for a moment after our short kiss.                                  
     
“That was nice,” she said. "All I know about kissing I learned from reading, not doing."                                 
     
“Why, thank you. I try to please,” I said, thinking we’d better go back inside.                                  
     
In an instant, she threw her arms around me, burying her face in my chest. Then she looked up into my eyes. We kissed again, but not so innocent a kiss this time.                                  
     
Our tongues met in silky warmth that seemed to connect to our souls. I felt a shiver travel from the tip of my head through my chest and settle in my pelvis.                                  
     
Is this happening? I’m kissing the preacher’s daughter behind the church under a streetlight? My only sex had been with experienced girls. This was very different. Never even kissed?                                  
        
“This is probably a bad idea,” I said. “Let’s get back inside.”                                
     
She smiled and said, “No way! You’re not getting away that easy.”                    
     
We kissed again, letting our tongues explore. I felt myself becoming firm and noticed her stomach pressing against me. She must have felt it because she swayed slightly causing me to move inside my pants. Miss Never-Been-Kissed must have learned a lot from her romance novels!          
       
Our minds soared.                                  
There was no right or wrong,                                  
no sin or need for forgiveness in that moment.                                  
We were young and following the design of our Creator.                                  
     
Our hearts pounded.                                  
There was only our flesh,                                  
righteous in its innocence and purity.                                  
We slipped back inside to find ourselves in the sanctuary                    
where Susan lit three altar candles.                                   
     
Our lips met again at the altar and the decision was made, so clear, and perfectly right.                                  
     
She bared her small breasts in the dim light.                                  
I bent down and kissed each slowly.                                  
My tongue touched her firm nipples.                                  
I explored her virgin landscape with sacramental reverence.                  
     
I felt vibrations in her neck.              
Short, earnest notes, softly descending.                                  
She often sang solos in this very sanctuary,                                  
but I’d not heard these blissful chirps.                                  
     
I wondered what was next, but not for long.                                  
She slowly went to her knees and pressed her face                                  
into what was now my firm desire.                                  
I loosened my belt and she slid down my pants.                                
     
She rubbed her face all over, salty pre-cum wetting her cheeks.                      
Then she held my shaft and kissed it as my body shook.                  
Her hands around my waist felt the trimmers,                                  
and she rubbed the small of my back as if to calm me.                                  
     
Our eyes met and then she looked back at her objective.                                  
She opened her lips, pausing before taking my hardness into her virgin mouth.            
With my glistening rod now protruding, her face glowed of innocence.        
Her lips held me perfectly still, kneeling with head bowed as in prayer.    
I folded my hands around her head and held her softly. “Thank you God,” I whispered.                          
   
She answered my prayer, slowly at first, moving me in and out, still rubbing the small of my back in tender circles. I caressed her flushed face and ears as she warmed my flesh, going deeper than I’d expected.        
She pulled me out and looked up into my eyes. Hers were wet, but she smiled broadly.  A portion of my sacramental excitement perched on her lips before streaming to her chest. She looked down and giggled.    
   
Taking me in again, she moved her hands to my stomach then down, caressing my scrotum. My mind raced with memories of Susan.  I saw her in Sunday school class with all the right answers, in middle school awkward and homely, now an honor student, uncomfortable in crowds, but wishing to be kissed. In an instant, all those images blended into one of unexpected beauty, kneeling at her father’s altar, giving me her first fruits.                                  
     
The pounding deep inside grew, and Susan sensed it was happening.              
I felt throbbing from the center of my being as she held me before her childlike face.          
In convulsive thrusts, my offerings, carrying all that I am and will be, showered her neck and breasts, sparkling in the altar's light.                    
     
Still on her knees, she leaned into my wetness, nosing my softening cock. My hands felt her animal heat through soft hair.  I pulled her into me, a final discharge of warmth, now empty.        
     
She looked up with a moist, trusting smile. As she stood, the outline of her breasts shined in the candlelight. I kissed her salty lips and lingered for a moment. She stood smiling with closed eyes and said, "That was nice."
Written by LostViking (Lost Viking)
Published | Edited 22nd Jul 2021
Author's Note
The altar seemed an appropriate place for two young people to explore their design.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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