Not A Normal Sunday

To look at her, Stephanie Kennedy was as innocent as the day she was born. Her porcelain features were blemished by only a few freckles that adorned the bridge of her nose. Tousled blonde hair cascaded effortlessly over her shoulders and she had a penchant for wearing yellow. I don’t know what it is about the colour yellow, but it makes your eyes stand to attention. You have to look at it.When I met her for the first time, Stephanie was one month short of seventeen years of age, and she was the most devoted Christian you could ever meet. Her father’s occupation probably had something to do with that. She would be the sort of person that knelt by her bed at night, knees together, body hunched over the edge of her bed and hands clasped together with the tips of her finely manicured fingers touching her button nose as she prayed to God every night. She was always polite, helped everyone when they needed it and her smile brought joy to so many faces. She was a joy to be around.I knew her parents, of course, but not socially or as friends. Her mother was as cute as Stephanie when she wanted to be, and her father, believe it or not, was the vicar of the local church. A pillar of the community that ensured that all of his flock rejected sin in favour of the love of God. Someone has to do it. Stephanie was different from either of her parents. She was more street-wise, probably as a result of growing up in a rapidly changing community; the influence of the internet must have helped too. But there was just something about her that meant she stood out from what was considered normal. If there ever is a normal, these days.I had a bit of a run-in with Stephanie while enjoying a casual lunch at the local pub one Saturday afternoon. It was a bright and sunny day, and as I said, yellow cries out for attention. She was sitting at a table that was opposite mine with a couple of friends. They were chatting away as teenagers do with the occasional bouts of laugher. I was caressing my pint of beer while waiting for my ploughman’s lunch to arrive and contemplating life the universe and everything. I noticed a few sly glances in my direction as the group huddled together exchanging almost silent whispers with each other but thought nothing of it. I was happy being there on my own and didn’t need to converse with anyone. The group eventually broke up and Stephanie was left at the table on her own just as the waitress brought my lunch to my table. I thanked her and as I stretched to reach for the salt on the far end of the table noticed that Stephanie had swung one leg over the end of the bench and was sitting side on to the table, facing me.Yellow, it cries out for attention and I could see her bright yellow panties from under her short skirt wink at me. It only made things worse as she wiggled on the bench; more and more of her panties came into view with every shuffle of her bum. If I didn’t know any better I’d say she was enticing me, but I knew she was not that kind of girl. She eventually pulled a book from her bag and started to read. bahis siteleri I wondered if it was a cut-down version of the bible or something similar. A hand unconsciously twirled the curls in her hair as she read, stopping now and then to take a sip of coke.I started to eat my lunch, took a sip of beer, and smiled inwardly to myself. Though, to be honest, I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows every now and then to peek in her general direction. On the few occasions that I put the knife and fork down and took a sip of beer, I could quite clearly see her smile to herself. That was when I realised that she knew what she was doing. I think she knew that her legs were slowly opening and that the colour yellow would grab my attention. I held my glass inches from my face and started to stare. Every time she reached for her drink her legs would open further. My gaze was only wrenched from the ‘V’ of her knickers when she raised her head to look in my direction.She knew what she was doing alright. It was Stephanie that made the first move. Once I had finished my meal she sauntered across and introduced herself. She was courteous at first and it was all I could do to stop looking at her unfettered breasts beneath her loose t-shirt as she sat down on the bench opposite me. She made a point of fidgeting which only drew attention to herself and I couldn’t help myself. One thing led to another and we started chatting. She seemed confident and the conversation was light-hearted. I blushed and dropped my eyes to the table when she asked whether I’d looked up her skirt. I wasn’t about to deny it; what was the point when she was the one asking while knowing full well that I had. She smiled and bit her lower lip when I nodded. I blushed again when she asked whether her tits had had any effect on me. This time I grinned back at her but said nothing. That was when she told me I should come to church. She insisted that Sunday’s were a day of unexpected joy, especially in the pews at the back.I was intrigued. Flattered even, that this young girl would ask me out on a date to church. It was certainly a novel approach and one that I had never before encountered. I know it wasn’t a date per se, but it amused me to think of it as such. I smiled back and told her that it would be a slim possibility. The conversation came to a sudden end when she announced that she had to meet someone and as quickly as she arrived, she sprung up from the bench.“It’s been nice talking to you. See you in church on Sunday.” She winked.“Likewise,” I replied, “we’ll see about the church.”Sunday came and went. I actually considered turning up just out of interest but the church wasn’t my scene, not in the slightest, and besides, she’d be with her mother and family while listening to her father preach to the masses. I didn’t even know what they did in church and had no intent on finding out.I met her again on the following Tuesday. She was stood on the other end of the queue at the local coffee shop, a place I sometimes frequent for a quick sandwich and coffee in canlı bahis siteleri my lunchtimes. It gets me out of the office and gets my steps up. She didn’t notice me as she left to search out a suitable table and when I got served I headed for a window seat in the sun. Before I knew it there was a tap on my shoulder with Stephanie leaning into my personal space.“May I join you?” she asked tilting her head to one side and raising her eyebrows. I motioned for her to sit in the easy chair opposite and put my phone back into my pocket. I couldn’t help but notice that her breasts resisted any movement from side to side with them being swaddled by the tight-fitting blouse that she wore. Her cleavage however announced its presence. She looked in my direction.I held my hands up. “Yep, I looked,” I said, not too loudly so the whole coffee shop could hear. “I should hope so too,” she said, with a smile, before she shook her shoulders rather enticingly.The conversation carried on as normal with both of us sipping our coffee, and me nibbling at my food and throwing in the occasional innuendo when it was appropriate to do so. I kept looking for a hint of yellow but couldn’t see any. Her bra was coloured white, in tune with her blouse, though I wouldn’t have been surprised if she hadn’t worn black underneath just to grab people’s attention. Just as I was about to say something rude to her, her mother walked into the coffee shop. There were the obligatory and quick introductions that preceded much talk of the traffic queues and the trouble she had getting to meet her daughter. The moment had passed, and I resigned myself to my own company as Stephanie got up to join her mother. “Sunday, be there or else,” it came out as a command. As if she was scolding me for not turning up the previous Sunday. I looked at her sexy round ass as she stood up and turned to leave, making her way towards the general direction of a table out of the sun.“Maybe,” I replied. She smiled at me over her shoulder like I had made her day.At forty-two years old, you could say I was a typical man, a divorced father of two, with a keen sense of duty towards my family but ultimately trying to make my way in life. My kids were with their mother and the distance prevented me from seeing them too often. Deep down I was a hot-blooded male with no one to take care of me, at least not in that way, and it certainly seemed that her intentions were leaning in that direction or at least that’s the conclusion I had come to.During the remainder of the week, I had the opportunity to ask other people what they thought about Stephanie Kennedy. I tried my best to approach the topic sensitively and it turned out that everyone I spoke to in the small community would testify that butter wouldn’t melt. She’s so lovely, they would say. What a lovely girl she is, they all agreed. She’s so helpful and cheerful, they added. I couldn’t find one person that had anything bad to say about her and there was no smut on Facebook either.She must truly have been a wonderful person; a goody-two-shoes. canlı bahis Yet, I couldn’t help but think of those yellow knickers from her outwardly public display on that Saturday afternoon at the pub, the plunging neckline in the coffee shop, and that wiggling ass as she left me to my coffee. She was never phased by any of my innuendoes and she gave as good as she got. I wondered about the church in a way I had never wondered about it before. Why was she so keen? Was it because the numbers were dropping? Was she on some kind of recruitment scheme set up by her father? It made me smile but more than that, I was intrigued. I was hooked.And so it turned out that I was lured to church by Stephanie Kennedy. Sunday came and almost went without my visit to the church. I had truly forgotten about my arrangement with a friend to help him out with some external decorating, but at the last minute it started to rain and he called it off. It was a lucky break because I had decided to go to church for once in my life.It was a tall and foreboding building. It looked dark, unwelcoming and creepy and that was just from the outside. I joined the end of the queue of people waiting to enter the church. Looking ahead, I could see that everyone was stopping to talk to everyone else as they made their way to the entrance. I for one didn’t want to get into any strained or unusual conversations about God or the fact that they hadn’t seen me there before and I certainly didn’t want some old biddy to offer me a bible by the door; it would probably have burned my hands. The church would be the last place anyone would find me if it wasn’t for this enigmatic and seductive Stephanie Kennedy.With some trepidation, I stepped over the boundary and into a foreboding place. I must have been the last person to enter but it wasn’t hard to find Stephanie. She was sitting in the next to last pew, dressed in a yellow woollen top with her blonde hair resting on the back of the wooden bench. I coughed as I took a step towards her and then I shivered. Why were these places always so cold and uninviting? Surely God, if anyone, would have taken more care to make these places comfortable and warm. Stephanie turned around to meet my gaze. Her smile invited me to sit next to her, but out of courtesy, I left a big enough space between us; partly so that I didn’t draw attention to myself as the new man that was sitting next to the vicar’s daughter.We started chatting and she thanked me for turning up. For some reason, she asked me whether I had been to church before but the smirk on her face made me realise she was making polite conversation.“Every other week,” I replied, facing forward. Then I turned to her and shook my head and told her the absolute truth. Her smile, it would seem, would drag the truth out of the devil himself and that glint in her eye would have blinded him.She pointed to the front of the church and told me that the man wearing the collar was her dad. I knew that and was pleased to inform her of that fact. Stephanie seemed impressed. I was a little taken aback when she said that he tends to go on a bit especially when he has everyone’s undivided attention. Her mother was the woman in the front seat with the blue floral dress looking proudly at her husband.