The Sunday morning sun was shining into the bedroom where Collette and I slept.  The smell of honeysuckle ripe on the vine wafted in through the open window, a scent that reminded the old of springtime flirtations. A smell that brought thoughts of innocent kisses and stolen glances in prepubescent classrooms.  It was the smell of youth and it was thick in the air.

           “Good morning,” Collette said to me, taking a deep breath of the delightful air.

           Stirring, I half opened my eyes and whispered, “good morning to you.”  I smiled at her from the bed.

She was standing next to the bed with her hand held to me, “come,” she said, “we have preparations to make.”  She held her hand immobile and watched the sheets move below her.   Reaching my hand to her she clasped it, her hand floating in the air gripping my unseen hand. 

She led me to the bathroom and shut the door. I watched as she started the shower water running and when the temperature was perfect, a thin sheet of steam rising higher and fogging the mirror she climbed into the water. “Wash me,” she said as she turned to look at the mirror hanging behind the shut bathroom door. 

Since first becoming invisible Collette had found it highly erotic to watch as I bathed her soft body, the washrag held in my unseen hand dancing over her heated skin.  She moaned in pleasure as I lathered up the washcloth and began to slide the soft terry cloth over her shoulders.  I washed her neck and shoulders slowly and Collette’s eyes never left the mirror, taking in the sight of the rag as it slid along her naked body.

I ran the cloth over her breasts, the supple flesh heavy in my hands.  My hand slid lower, guiding the washrag over her stomach, down past the thin patch of pubic hair and around behind her to run along the swell of her shapely behind.  Bending forward in the heated spray of the water I washed her thighs, calves and feet before sliding the washcloth up between her slightly parted thighs. 

She moaned at the sensual feel of the cloth on her body and the erotic sight of the yellow rag moving as if of its own volition. As I washed her sex, her hand dropped to grab mine. She held my hand firmly, locking the rag in place between her legs. The material rubbed against her sex as she thrust her hips back and forth, masturbating herself with the help of the washcloth clamped in my invisible hand. 

Moaning in pleasure, she watched her body thrust against the cloth. Her head fell backwards and she screamed loudly as she came, the sound echoing like an erotic cry in the small room. She released my hand and I gently bathed her sensitive sex when her orgasm passed. 

“God,” she breathed throatily, smiling in contentment.

She rinsed her body of the suds left by my soapy washcloth then instructed me to bathe.  She watched as the water, stopped by my invisible form, ran in sheets down body. Still smiling she looked on as the yellow cloth ran over my unseen mass.  The cloth floated in the air to rest itself on the small towel bar that ran along the back of the shower.   I turned off the water and to our eyes the knobs turned on their own accord. 

I climbed out of the shower and dried my body with the same towel Collette had used while I was bathing.  Naked she and I returned to the bedroom.  Collette dressed in a mid-length full-bodied skirt, the hem jutting far from her calves.  She donned a white blouse with a lace collar and she crossed the room to sit at a small vanity.  The smell of honeysuckle still filled the room, the scent of the upcoming spring.  Collette put on a touch of makeup and combed her long brown hair.

Dressed and ready to go Collette called out, “let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” my dismembered voice rang out.

Cryptically she replied, “you’ll see.”

I followed Collette from the house and to the car. I was still slightly apprehensive about being outside naked, but it was the only way to hide my invisibility. It was common practice around the house for me to wear a collar that Collette had affixed a bell to so that she could keep track of my location and at least look at my head when we spoke. Outside, however, I had to remain totally naked to avoid detection.

Collette opened the car door and with practiced ease she stepped aside to allow me to climb into the passenger seat.  I did not don the seat belt; a lesson we learned after an elderly driver stared at the strap held away from the seat by my unseen form. He looked, shook his head, looked again and then stared, trying to ponder what was holding the strap away from the seat.   Collette drove more cautiously when I was with her and I took it as an added benefit to my invisible state; a little less lead in the foot.

Collette climbed into the car and starting the vehicle she backed down the driveway.  The Arizona sun was climbing in the sky, the temperature rising; it would be another hot day in a long line of hot days.  Driving with care Collette turned from our street onto another, heading into town.  She looked towards me and smiled, “I like you naked,” she said with obvious pleasure.

She couldn’t see my return smile, “I know.”

After ten minutes Collette turned into a church parking lot. The small white building looked quaint and serene. The smell of honeysuckle was heavy in the air, the far wall of the church covered in the green vine with white budding flowers. Bees were buzzing merrily, attracted by the same sweet scent that filled the air.  Collette parked the car and turned off the ignition.

Couples and children, men and women were pouring into the church and taking their seats for the service that was about to begin. “Shall we?” Collette asked.

Nervously I asked, “Is this a good idea?”

She smiled, hearing the twinge of apprehension in my voice, “probably not.”  She shook her head in glee and laughed, a bemused sound of merriment. “Don’t worry,” she said, keeping her voice low, “it will be fine.  I’ll be quiet.”

I’ll be quiet; I knew what those words meant. This was not to be just the two of us attending a serene church service; instead it was to be more.  I understood her choice of attire, the skirt jutting away from her body would allow me to hide underneath it as I pleasured her with my fingers, hands and tongue.  Collette would participate in the service as I knelt between her thighs and serviced her.

My nervousness unabated I stammered, “okay.”

Collette climbed from the vehicle and took a few steps to place her purse on the trunk.  She dug around and then stopped, smiled, and then turned to lock the car. Digging in her purse was just a pretense to allow my egress from the vehicle.  With the car locked and her purse hung over her shoulder we turned to walk into the church. 

The church was half full with parishioners, men and women and children sitting quietly with their Bibles in their laps. A large wooden cross with a replica of Jesus Christ crucified to it was hanging at the rear of the church overlooking the assembled worshippers.  Candles were burning behind the pulpit where the minister would deliver his sermon. Stained glass pictures of Jesus and Mary and Joseph were spilling soft light into the room while gentle organ music was playing in the background.

Collette took a seat in the back set of pews that were thankfully empty.  Sliding across the hard wooden seat she worked her way until she was sitting next to the far wall. She spread her legs slightly, the hem of the skirt billowing open.

I took my cue and falling to my knees, trying not to think of where I was, I climbed underneath her skirt.  She was wet, the smell of her arousal heavy in my nostrils. I could see nothing, the skirt blocking out all light. Tentatively I brought my right hand up under the skirt and slid it along her warm skin.  I cupped her pussy, my fingers pressing against her clit. Collette shifted slightly in her seat in pleasure.

Slowly I spun my cupped hand in circles, my fingers dancing over her clit, my palm pressing against her wet sex.  I started slow, taking my time, concentrating on pleasuring her body with a slow, measured build up.  I knew I had the time as the sermon was just beginning.

Under Collette’s skirt I could hear the preacher begin his emotional tirade. The words were mumbled but by the chorus of “amen’s” and “halleluiahs” I knew that the sermon was well under way. From under the hidden comfort of Collette’s skirt my massaging hand slid from her sex, sliding down her thigh. I shifted slightly and gingerly kissed her pussy. Another kiss and then I extended my tongue to begin massaging the wet folds of her sex.

I felt Collette’s hands fall onto my back.  From above it would simply appear that her hands were in her lap, or that she was scratching an itch in her leg when the reality was the she was digging her nails into my back, a silent indication of the pleasure her sex was transmitting through her body.

I lapped at her pussy, tasting her wetness, pushing the silken folds in lazy circles with my tongue.  Her pussy was my world, the scent and taste all encompassing, my vision dark, the light hidden by the fabric of her skirt. Her nails continued to dig into my back as I pleasured her sex. I licked her pussy with the fervor of the preacher’s sermon, punctuating the cries of the parishioners with rapid swipes of my tongue against Collette’s extended clit.

Collette’s legs spread slightly and I was certain it looked slightly obscene from above.  I continued to fuck her pussy with my tongue, sliding the inquisitively probing muscle into and out of her wet pussy rapidly.  Collette’s hands fell against my head and she held it there, holding me firmly in place.  She came quietly with the carved statue of Jesus looking down at her and the stained glass glow of sunlight shining on her beautiful face.

When her orgasm passed, her body alive with pleasure she released my head. I began to gently swipe my tongue against her pussy, slowly cleaning her wetness with my tongue. The taste was thick and heavy and arousing. Collette’s hands landed on my back and held me stationary. My tongue continued to lap at the outer folds of her sex, a languid, gently teasing motion.

The preacher concluded his sermon and from the muffling cave of Collette’s skirt I heard the worshippers begin to sing. The hymn’s came in went, three of them in rapid succession before the preacher dismissed his flock. 

Collette watched the men, women, and children leave the church, talking in quiet whispers.  With a shift in Collette’s body I climbed from beneath her skirt. I stood against the wall to her left, waiting for Collette to leave. I watched as she stood, stretched her arms, and turned to look towards me.  She couldn’t see me, of course, but she knew I would maintain a safe distance from any possible accidental exposure to my unseen form. “I’ll wait for you outside,” she whispered, her fingers hiding her lips.

I watched as she turned and left the church, leaving me alone, naked and invisible in the church.  I looked at the closed door leaving from the church and knew that way out was not open to me; I couldn’t risk anybody seeing the door open by questioning eyes. I walked slowly towards the rear of the church, the eyes of the Christ statue watching me intently.  The room was empty and as I scColletted the back wall I spotted two doors closed to my gaze.

I listened at the first one and sure the room beyond was empty I slowly opened the door.  A short hallway led to two more doors, both of them closed. The first one to my right I ignored, it would lead across the church to the opposite side and as such probably did not contain an exit. The second door straight ahead opened into a storage room where six sets of robes were hanging. Shelves of candles and candelabras and incense and other religious paraphernalia lined the left hand wall.  Another door led from the room.

The door was locked with a dead bolt, which I unlocked. I pushed the door open and an alarm sounded.  Panic welled in my mind as I ran from the room into the sunlight the newly opened door revealed. I was free of the church and unseen I ran around the side to see Collette standing by the open car door.  She watched as the preacher that had delivered the sermon ran into the church to investigate the blaring alarm.

The car shook slightly as I climbed inside and immediately Collette climbed in behind me.  “Was that fun?” she asked, giggling.

“It was frightening,” I admitted, my heart still jack hammering in my chest from when the deafening alarm had sounded. “I wasn’t sure if I was alone in the church. Couldn’t be certain that my passage was going to go unnoticed. Then when the alarm went off I nearly ran back into the church.”

Sounding elated she said, “So it was fun.” With that, she started the car and drove us home.