Rachel’s Prayer

Rachel’s body seemed child-like as she bounced with enthusiasm. Her eyes looked up joyfully and she smiled broadly.  
 
Her palms were warm against my chest until she raised them to her face and closed her eyes as if in prayer. As she prayed, her body continued its quick rhythmic strokes, each repetition bringing another surge of pleasure.  
 
With her hands folded in prayer her breasts were steadied by her forearms as she leaned slightly back and up. I looked down to see the center of our sharing. Such a joyous sight, my cock’s repeated disappearances into the furry bliss of her!  
 
Still Rachel bounced, she raised her hands over her head and her arms extended leaving her breasts to echo the rhythmic movements of her pelvic dance.
 
Her eyes opened and she looked up with hands raised in a way that reminded me of charismatic worship. She began to whisper words I couldn’t understand, another language I thought. I’d seen this before in a church I attended. One of my girlfriends in college was a charismatic evangelical, but she’d never raised her hands like this while fucking.  
 
Rachel seemed to know when it was time and bowed forward until our lips met. Her Holy Ghost-filled tongue danced between us as if still speaking in a strange language. “Al-ma-zur-i da-la-tee-ma,” and then again her tongue pattered against my lips as I bagan. By the end of her third repetition of that mysterious phrase I was offering my last tablespoon of passion to her inner-most sanctuary.  
 
She stayed bowed over me and our eyes locked in that moment of special sharing. “Stala abee,” she whispered then pressed her cheek against mine. Then she uttered her first English since our joining. “Thank you,” she said.  
 
I felt a wave of blushing flow over my face, and said, “Thank YOU.”
 
She remained bowed and I remained inside of her our cheeks still touching lightly.  
 
She still felt wonderfully warm over me and I asked, “Who were you praying to?”
Rachel was quiet for a moment and I worried that I’d said the wrong thing.  
 
As Rachel raised herself from me, my cock fell heavy and limp against me with a soft slap.  
 
Rachel said, “I pray to the creative force that brought me to this moment in time. Think of all that had to happen in our lives before arriving right here right now! I love to raise my hands in praise for this.  
 
“Are you praying to God?” I asked sheepishly.  
 
“Oh No,” she said. “I used to be a charismatic Christian but now I’m just a devout and thankful nonbeliever.”