This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of this story to real people or places is purely coincidental.


In the shade of a tall black cherry tree, a warm spring breeze lifted the scent of tulip, daffodil and hyacinth in the air. Wooden chairs, carried out the side door of Witness To The Rapture Church, were placed carefully in a circle. The close proximity to the weathered white clapboards on the building lit the shady spot with a slightly unearthly glow.

“What a lovely day our Lord has given us for our meeting today,” Reverend Roberts said. “I wish what I had to tell you all was just as lovely, but unfortunately, as you all know, the church has fallen on hard times. Very hard times indeed.”

The gathered flock, a mix of officers of the church and fund raising volunteers, nodded, with looks of concern on their faces. Mostly women, they were dressed in spring whites and yellows, with a smattering of pastel pink and blue.

“I had hoped I would never have to say these words, but I’m afraid, without some sort of divine intervention, we’ll have to sell off all our assets, including the building, in a month or two. To put it bluntly, we’ve gone broke. The bank has been very kind, but we’ve reached the end of their very long, generous rope.”

A collective murmur went through the small gathering. A few of the women wiped tears from their eyes.

“I think I’m correct in saying we’ve tried everyone’s ideas for fundraising and congregation building,” Reverend Roberts said, “but if someone has an idea that hasn’t been floated, a hail Mary pass to the end zone as it were, please, don’t be afraid to bring it up.”

“We could sell our bodies,” a soft voice said.

There was at least one gasp, and some small, quiet chuckles.

“There’s money in that,” the soft voice said.

It was Elizabeth Woolzie who had spoken up, known as Lizzie to her friends. A young widow with no children, she was known as a bit of a ‘free thinker’ among the congregation. There were a few times in the past when folks wondered if she was on drugs, so odd were some of her ideas.

“They might pay for you sweetheart, but they ain’t payin’ for me,” Bertha Wingford said.

A louder chuckle went through the gathering. Bertha smiled as she shifted her big body on the small chair.

“I believe I’ll leave that suggestion untouched Lizzie, but thank you for speaking up,” Reverend Roberts said. “Maybe it’ll help stimulate some other creative ideas.”

“How about a calendar, like those women did in that movie? That was a church thing I think, wasn’t it?” Lottie Hayford said. Lottie was also a widow, though quite a bit older than Lizzie. She was what one of the men in the congregation once called ‘well preserved,’ with a body that looked much younger than her years.

“No, not a church I don’t think, but it’s a good idea,” Lizzie said. “There’s certainly enough good-looking women around here, and a lot of them are single. But I think something like that would take time, and we don’t really have any.”

“Since we’re talking about selling ourselves in some way, which is really our best asset, how about some kind of auction, like those bachelor auctions,” Rhonda Woodsmith said. Rhonda was the newest face in the congregation, a recently divorced woman who had just taken a job that brought her to the area.

“How about an escort service,” Lizzie said.

“Lizzie, I don’t think…” the Reverend started to say.

“There’re lots of folks in this community that would enjoy a date now and then,” Lizzie said. “Dinner, dancing, a movie. Heck, I’m one of ’em. Maybe just a walk in the park. Or an evening in front of the TV with a bottle of wine. If the buyers know that it’s for a good cause, saving this beautiful church, I bet we could raise some serious money. And it wouldn’t just be a one time thing like a calendar or an auction. It would be a really nice ongoing service we could provide.”

The group was mostly silent, thinking, nodding, looking like they were in agreement. Reverend Roberts wanted to say that he hoped the idea had nothing to do with Lizzie’s previous thought about selling their bodies, but he stayed silent to let the idea percolate.

“I like it,” Rhonda said. “We can keep the church alive, and, if it’s not too personal saying so, I haven’t had a date since I moved here. Having someone take me dancing sounds heavenly.”

“I wouldn’t mind a bottle of wine in front of the TV with a man,” Lottie said. “If he was helping to pay the mortgage on my church, all the better.”

“Well I must admit,” Reverend Roberts said, “it’s the only idea we’ve had lately that sounds like it might actually work. If we can keep it on the up and up, something a church can be proud of, I say lets give it a try. Lizzie, would you like to chair the committee?”

Lizzie was thrilled. Her somewhat wacky ideas had kept her on the fringes of church groups in the past. Being put in charge of the committee that would either save the church or watch it disappear etimesgut escort was a big responsibility, but she was determined to get the cash flowing. The meeting ended with a prayer, and by afternoon Lizzie and Rhonda and Bill Anderson had worked out the details of advertising the new endeavor.

Bill, a strapping young man fresh out of college with a fledgling carpentry business, grew up in the church. The ladies of the congregation hadn’t thought much about him until he returned home from school, his handsome body filled out and his eyes twinkling with new knowledge about girls that he had learned during his four years away. He was the only one of the men at the morning meeting to volunteer, not only for the committee, but to be an escort himself. Lizzie, Rhonda and Lottie were also on the list to be escorts.

An ad for the new service went in the local newspaper. It explained the whole church angle, that it was for a good cause. Lizzie was worried that it would all sound too conservative and, frankly, boring, so she got Rhonda, Lottie and Bill together at her house one day to shoot a picture for the ad. A glass of wine as she fiddled with the camera turned into two glasses, and then three. By the time they were done the loose, relaxed faces and sexy smiles in the picture were just what Lizzie had hoped for.

Lizzie had put her personal phone number in the ad, something Reverend Roberts wasn’t happy about. He thought all calls for the service should go through the church, but Lizzie wanted more control, already scheming in her head for more of a ‘sliding scale’ of services to be offered, if all went well. She knew the reverend would be happy once the money started rolling in, and she was confident it would.


“Hi, is this the Rapture Church?”

“Oh, yes,” Lizzy said, surprised by the first call on her cellphone in response to the ad.

“I’m wondering, uh, how much does it cost, uh, like to have dinner with me.”

“The base price is fifty dollars for two hours of pleasant conversation at a public place of your choosing,” Lizzie said. “You of course pay for the dinner and any other expenses.”

“Oh, sure, yeah,” the man said. “So, no private dinners? I’m a pretty good cook is the reason I ask.”

“Yes, well we swing up in price when we get to the private situations. You can understand I’m sure—the added risk and insurance expenses and what-not,” Lizzie said, surprising herself with her line of bull. “A hundred dollars minimum. The maximum is up to your generosity. Our church is dire need of funds.”

“Is the, ah, short-haired woman, in the ad, is she available, or is she just a model?” the man asked.

“All four of us in the ad are available sir. My name’s Lizzie, I’m the one on the left. The woman you’re asking about is Lottie. She’d be more than happy to have dinner with you.”

“Lottie. Wow. This is intriguing, to say the least,” he said. “Yes, I’d like to have, I mean I’d like to invite her to dinner.”

“Very good sir,” Lizzie said. “Keep in mind this is for a very good cause. Your generosity will be much appreciated.”

Lizzie took down the details and called Lottie.

“I’m sort of playing this by ear until we see what happens,” she told Lottie. ” I told him it’s a hundred dollar minimum for two hours, but I encouraged him to up the ante, for the good of the church.”

“Ooh, a hundred! That’s more than we talked about, isn’t it?” Lottie said.

“Yes, but you’ll be visiting his home. I told him fifty for two hours in a restaurant, but he wants to cook you dinner,” Lizzie said. “I’m gonna leave it up to you how you handle it, okay? I encouraged him to pay up if he’s happy, so I think there’ll be more money in the balance if you leave him smiling. That’s what I’m hoping for—less structured pricing and more generosity for what they’re receiving. And helping the church of course.”

“Yes, well, I don’t know about you, but I’m determined to make this work,” Lottie said. “Witness To The Rapture will not die on my watch, so I’m gonna do everything I can to empty some wallets.”

“That’s the spirit,” Lizzie said. “I’m right there with ya girlfriend.”


“That was a lovely meal Frank, you’re quite the cook,” Lottie said with a smile as she leaned back from the table.

“Thank you Lottie. I can’t tell you how nice it is to have a woman with such a beautiful smile at my table. I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’ve got sort of a thing for mouths, and the way yours curls up in that picture in your ad, it just sorta knocked my socks off.”

“Oh, a mouth man!” Lottie said with an even bigger smile. “Guess I wore my sexy dress for nothing.”

“No, far from nothing! You’re stunning Lottie.”

“You know, my late husband was a mouth man,” Lottie said. “If you’d be willing to double my fee, we could finish the dinner the way he and I sometimes did. He fed me his warm, creamy dessert, hot out of his oven.”

Lottie’s eyes were big and she etlik escort bit her bottom lip, surprised at where the evening, and the wine, had taken her. Frank stood up, a huge bulge noticeable in his dress pants as he put five crisp one-hundred dollar bills down on the table.

“Oh My!” Lottie said when she saw the money. “I guess dessert will just get us started.”

As she stood she unwrapped the waist sash that held her dress together, letting the chiffon fabric float down her arms into a soft pile on her chair. Her lovely body was adorned in flesh colored lace, a matched bra and panty set that caressed and accented her curves. Her soft, natural bosom jiggled as she took a step and dropped to her knees.

Frank was on cloud nine. Just to have such a beautiful woman in his dining room was astonishing enough, but looking down at her as she took out his cock, tickled the tip with her tongue and drew him into her sweet, warm mouth was more than he’d dreamed.

Candles flickered on the table, adding movement to the dim light of the dining room. The scent of the chocolate mousse he’d made still lingered in the air, mixed with the musk wafting off his hard cock as Lottie’s head moved sensuously on it. It had been years since he’d been with a woman, and his overloaded senses quickly spun out of control. The warm cream gushed out of Frank’s hot oven, just as Lottie requested.

“Mmm!” Lottie moaned as he gushed, taking every ounce of his fluid down her throat.

“My goodness,” she said with a smile, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. “You had a lot in you, didn’t you?”

“It’s been so long,” Frank could barely say.

Lottie stood and dropped her panties. She stepped out with one foot, leaving them around her other ankle, and bent over the table. She arched her back and winked at Frank. Almost unable to believe what he was seeing, he dropped his pants around his ankles and was quickly behind Lottie, on his knees, inhaling the rich scent of her femininity. He softly kissed the moist pinkness of her pussy, his tongue reaching out to taste her heavenly nectar. A deep moan groaned from his throat as his senses overloaded again. Lottie’s wetness coated his mouth, inside and outside, as he lapped up her juices.

Lottie whimpered at first, holding back her true feelings, but soon she let them out, writhing on the table and moaning deeply, to the verge of animalistic groans. The pure, unbridled sexuality emanating from Lottie gave Frank’s middle-aged cock a second life, and soon he was standing, pressing his hard length into Lottie’s heavenly gate.

The soft, velvety heat overwhelmed him, his own voice now matching Lottie’s animalistic outbursts. The dining room walls reverberated the rising cries as Frank fucked Lottie in a way he had never done before—free of thought, free of reason, just pure sex for the pure pleasure of it. Lottie’s grunts were obscene and wonderful, and Frank built on them, his body doing things he had only seen others do on his bedroom computer, slapping Lottie’s sexy ass with his hand as his red hot cock drilled into her with the speed of a teenager.

A climax built from pure heat, Lottie cumming hard, her first real orgasm in years triggering Frank, who, not knowing quite what to do, pulled out. He pressed his squirting, spasming cock down with the palm of his hand against the top of Lottie’s ass and thrust slowly as the big orgasm swirled through every fiber of his being and drained him.


Lottie stopped by Lizzie’s house the next morning. With a wonderful little smile on her face she put the five crisp hundred-dollar bills on Lizzie’s table.

“Five hundred?” Lizzie said, her eyes big and questioning.

“Lets just say it was a pleasant evening,” Lottie said, her lovely mouth curling into that sexy smile Frank liked so much.

“Yes, lets,” Lizzie said with a knowing smile. “Three more people called, all for Friday night. One asked for you, one’s for Bill, and I’m taking the other one. Yours and Bill’s are restaurant dinners—fifty dollars, but I’m hoping you can stretch them into more—and mine’s a high school reunion at a bar. He wants me to pretend I’m his girlfriend,” Lizzie laughed. “I told him two hundred minimum for that kind of acting, and he didn’t flinch.”

“Nice!” Lottie said. “So at least eight hundred dollars for the reverend on Sunday, and we’re just getting started.”


Over the next few days, as she waited for her Friday night date, Lottie thought about what had happened with Frank. She had cut loose and gotten nasty in a way she hadn’t really expected. Was it Frank, with those dark, seductive eyes that reminded her of Cary Grant? Or was it some sort of inner slut within herself that she didn’t even know existed. It certainly paid off, in terms of fundraising for the church, but it was far from church-like behavior. Church-like or not, it was an extraordinary experience for her—liberating and oh so satisfying. To be given an expertly cooked ankara escort meal, delicious wine, a sinful homemade chocolate mousse, one of the best orgasms of her life and five-hundred dollars, it was unlike anything she had ever even dreamed off. A middle-aged woman who dressed conservatively, drove a faded Toyota Camry and volunteered at the church was not who you would expect to live that kind of wild life.

What would happen if the congregation found out how she earned such a large sum? What did Lizzie think when she handed her the money? She almost certainly knew how a girl would earn that kind of cash in that situation. Lottie pondered those thoughts as she went about her conservative life, walking the grocery store aisles in her frumpy, middle-aged church-lady clothes.

By the time Friday night rolled around she had decided she kind of enjoyed the company of her inner slut. Over the course of a few days the alter ego had made herself very known to Lottie, looking over her shoulder as she masturbated, helping to bring her to the best self-inflicted orgasm she’d had in a while. It was still a long way from Frank’s real cock, but it was pretty darn good.

Her slutty side came out again when she shopped for her outfit for the nights dinner date. The lowest cut dress she’d worn since she was married hugged her lovely curves as she walked into the restaurant, covering some new, very sheer lingerie.

“Are you Robert?” she said, extending her hand with a confident smile. “Hi, I’m Lottie.”


Bill got ready for his Friday date nervously, not knowing what to expect. Lizzie had given him a pep-talk on the phone, something about fifty dollars being only the starting point, that there would hopefully be more if the customer was happy. A tip would be nice, he thought, but he was never all that comfortable around women, so he didn’t expect it.

Lizzie suggested a sport coat with an open collared shirt. “Let her see a little of your chest, but not too much,” Lizzie had said. As he got dressed his nerves got the better of him, so he sat down and had a beer to relax. The woman he was meeting was older than he was, Lizzie thought, but she didn’t know how much. He had a thing for older women, so he was hopeful that would help him make a good impression.

Bill drove his Ford pickup truck, with his ladders strapped to the overhead rack, across town to a restaurant he hadn’t heard of before. As he was walking in a woman’s voice stopped him. She was twice his age, about fifty, dressed in a casual but very sexy summer dress with a shawl like scarf around her shoulders. Her red hair caught the sunset light, and her green eyes twinkled.

“Are you Bill?” she asked.

“Yes. Julie?” Bill asked.

“My goodness, your picture didn’t do you justice,” she said. “You may have to fight me off with a stick young man.”

Julie took Bill’s arm and they walked into the restaurant, her subtle but exotic perfume already working on Bill’s sense of right and wrong.


Lizzie wore her sexiest little black dress, wanting to play up the part of ‘impressive girlfriend’ for her date’s high school reunion. She had agreed to meet him ahead of time at a coffee shop to go over some details of his life, so she could pull off the illusion of being his girlfriend.

He was a young businessman named Ray, a nerdy but not bad looking guy who was some kind of a computer or internet wiz. Lizzie knew nothing of such endeavors and tried to concentrate on what she was supposed to learn, but she was distracted by his nice smile and beautiful teeth. She was also distracted by the nagging feeling that she needed, or at least wanted, to match Lottie’s five-hundred dollar take from her first date, or even better it. She knew what she’d have to do to make that kind of money, and the thought excited her to the point of a rush of trembling tingles throughout her body.

Lizzie was only twenty eight, but already a widow. Her beloved husband died in an industrial accident at the quarry where he worked, leaving Lizzie alone almost two years ago. She’d had exactly two dates in that time, neither of which ending with even a kiss. She wasn’t ready for anything physical on those evenings, but after Lottie laid down those five hundred-dollar bills with that telling smile on her face the other day, a feeling of desperate need had been following Lizzie around all week. If she could satisfy that need, that hunger, and help the church’s bank balance at the same time, it seemed like a win-win situation.

“You know,” Lizzie said to Ray, “I can always tell couples that haven’t been intimate. All these details about your life, I think they’re less important than that.”

Ray sat in the cafe booth and looked at Lizzie. He was pretty sure he knew what she was getting at, but didn’t know quite what to say.

“We’ve got a half-an-hour before the thing starts, right?” Lizzie asked, her eyes twinkling. “You’re gonna have to contribute more to the church though, is that okay?”

They drove to a nearby park in Ray’s Audi A7. The computer business must be good, Lizzie thought, when she sunk her sexy ass into the soft leather seat. The car was smooth, powerful and nearly silent, whisking them at much too high a speed to a quiet corner of the empty park.



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