The First Sin 𓆩♱𓆪 (One-Shot)
Tags; nsfw, religious guilt, sub!reader(blk), softdom!mike, manipulative mike (if you squint), smut, slight age gap, inexperienced reader, first time!
Sunday, September 7, 1980.
Today, you wore a pink blouse with a black skirt, skin color tights, black mary janes, and a gold cross necklace. It was teetering the line between summer and fall, just hot enough to wear short sleeves but cool enough for an extra layer. The morning started off cool, blue, and breezy.
Your mother decided to stay after church today to help with some volunteering. Usually, when you have to stay a little longer, you go and mingle with mates your age or do some Bible study in the church library. Your younger sister, whom you’re five years older than, decided to spend some extra time with the youth group.
One of the youth group instructors, Michael, was a few years your senior. He was poised, confident, dreamy, sharp, and mysterious.
However, you feel a little guilty for fancying him in the house of worship. Attraction is normal, but sometimes your gaze lingered a little longer than what you considered appropriate for church.
You can’t help but notice how huge and veiny his hands are when he’s straightening up stuff, or how his adams apple moves in his throat when he laughs, or how his church clothes hug him perfectly. Today, he’s wearing a white button up with grey slacks, black loafers, and a gold bangle on his wrist.
Your families mingled with one another at times, sharing warm glances and good graces. His family was huge. It was mindblowing compared to your household with just one sister.
Sometimes you get caught up in one of those overly long church conversations– where you two would exchange glances and small conversation every once in a while.
You decide to occupy one of the Bible study rooms while you wait for your sister and mother. Usually, you’d go over verses, take notes, and apply them to your daily life. The room was very quiet most times, and if you were lucky, you landed a study session on your own.
You couldn't help but hover over 1 Thessalonians 4:3-5,
“For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God.”
The passion of lust. You wondered what that could possibly mean. Does it mean that lust is passionate? Does it mean that passion automatically makes you lustful, sinful?
As you sit to yourself analyzing the passages, your mother approaches you softly.
“Y/N, why don’t you go help Michael in the fellowship hall? He’s setting up for an event coming up this week.”
There’s no way your mother is asking you to go help the guy you can barely look at without crumbling. Assuming he’s in there with other people, you reply,
“Sure, mother, I’ll help. It’ll probably get done faster with a few more people.”
You try to appear calm, but in actuality you just want to beg to go home, or even come up with an excuse to go find your sister. What is this, judgement day?
You nod toward your mother and head to the bathroom before joining Michael in the fellowship hall. You go to the mirror and fix up your hair, which has been pressed down with a hotcomb, falling against your armpit.
“Okay, Y/N. You can do this, you look great. It’s just Church. It’s just Church.”
You take a deep breath and head down the hall. You reach the door of the fellowship hall and peek through the window. There he is. One of his shirt buttons is open because it's a little hot on this side of the building.
The way his brown skin illuminated under the bright, buzzing light was almost unsettling. Your eyes fixed on his chest going up and down with every breath he took.
You quickly snap your head back and try to gain some couth. You take one more deep breath before you hesitantly push the door open.
He stops and turns around immediately, his eyes locked with yours. And you, of course, stand there like a dumbass not knowing how to move your mouth.
“Hey, y/n, right? Whatchu’ you doin in here? I’m just setting up some stuff for Wednesday’s service.”
“Well-uh-I… my mom sent me here to help you. I figured it would get done faster if I helped you all,” You stutter. Way to play it cool.
Michael chuckles warmly, “Well, actually, there is no all. It’s just me. I guess two is better than one, huh?”
Your eyes widen at the news. You knew that you’d have to be in his space, but all alone? This is torture. Yet, you wanted nothing more than to be around him even though you barely know him.
“Oh. I didn’t know it’d just be us two.” You smile.
“Yeah, I guess you’re stuck with me. Don’t seem so excited.” He teased-----
Little did he know, being stuck with him was paradise. Torturous paradise, that is. He was so much taller than you, and a bit more mature. He felt like a guiding light in a world full of ambiguity. It intimidated you a little, but it made him ten times more attractive.
You set your Holy Bible down on a chair next to you, as you’re doing so, you accidentally knock over one of the cheap table decorations. As you bend over to pick it up, Michael can’t help but notice the ride of your skirt. It’s a “modest” length, but it's just short enough to allow his mind to wander.
“Sorry, sorry.” You blush. Great. You’ve been in the same room as him for approximately forty-five seconds and you’re already making a fool out of yourself. Of course.
“It’s alright. That stuff’s cheap as dirt. Wanna help me clean tables? You can do that while I go bring in the heavier stuff from the closet.”
“O-okay. Yeah, sure!” You respond eagerly.
Michael’s eyes lit up at your response. He liked how eager you were to help him and found your obvious shyness endearing. And that pink blouse complimented your complexion so well.
You begin spraying tables down, the cleanliness of them feeling like an oxymoron considering the temptation that lies only a few feet away from you. Michael continues moving heavier boxes around the area, flashing reassuring smiles here and there.
While you were in the middle of scrubbing a table, he accidentally bumped into you from behind as he was setting something down.
Your eyes shot open and your breath hitched. You didn’t know exactly what came over you, but that three second contact following made your chest feel unbearably hot.
“Oh!” You exclaimed, feeling a bit taken aback by the sudden thrust.
“Sorry–sorry. You gotta watch where you’re bending.” He smiled. You noticed that he suddenly dropped the box he was holding from chest level to waist level, though you didn’t think much of it and reassured him that it wasn’t a big deal.
Trying to find any way to distract him from the sinful thoughts circling his mind, he decides to start a conversation.
“You uh, you enjoyed the sermon today?”
“Yeah, I did. It was interesting,” you reply, “I um.. I care a lot about that kind of stuff. Y’know, staying pure.”
The pastor preached about adultery, fornication, things of that nature. You’d never had sex before, but you occasionally did explore yourself down there.
And, well, let's just say your mind has wandered during.
In a way, it almost felt like he was pointing his finger directly at you. A dirty sinner.
“Staying pure?” He chuckled, “That’s what you think you’re doing?”
Your cheeks begin to turn red as you start to play with your necklace. “Well, yeah. I’ve never had, y’know, relations..” You pause, “I-I’m not married. It would be wrong.”
“Besides, I’ve never really had a boyfriend anyway,” you blurt out, “My mom was always kinda strict about that stuff.”
He reacts to the information as if he’s a little shocked. “You? Never?”
He scans your outfit while his eyes stay fixed on your chest a little longer than intended. “I'm shocked, y/n,” he chuckled, “I’m sure plenty of guys would like you. You dress up nice, and you seem to have a good head on your shoulders.”
You can’t help but flash a cheesy, telling smile. “Wow, Michael, thank you. Yeah, I guess they do like me sometimes but.. I just don’t engage much. I’m very shy.”
“I understand, I’m shy too.” Michael replies.
In the fellowship hall, there lies a small room, with just enough space for two people to be able to move around without making a huge mess.
“Can I uh, can I show you something?” He asked. “It’ll be quick, we’ll still have time to set up some stuff. Promise.”
“It’s just… I think I can teach you something valuable. I used to be a lot like you, you know. He added, flashing a smile while twirling his curls around his middle finger.
“Oh, okay. Yeah, sure.” He leads you toward the room (which you didn’t know existed until this moment), you follow behind him until he suddenly pauses.
“Bring your Bible with you.”
You’re not sure why he’s requesting this specifically, but you naively pick it up and bring it with you, assuming that you’re simply going to go over a chapter or a verse.
He leads you to a dimly lit room with dark blue carpet, a table, a stack of boxes, and a mirror that sits on top of the table.The wooden fan with a light switch attached whirrs above you two.
Unbeknownst to you, he locks the door as he shuts it behind you both.
“Now, listen, y/n. You do realize that there are ways to stay pure and still enjoy yourself, right?
“Wh-what do you mean?” You ask, slightly concerned, but still trusting.
“Well, you told me you’ve never been with a guy before. What about when you get married, or even just have a boyfriend? Wouldn’t you want to know a thing or two before jumping into things?” He pauses, “I-its better that way. Trust me.”
He’s the youth instructor; surely he probably knows how to navigate a relationship while still being religious. If he says it's ok, then it has to be.
You’re inexperienced, sheltered, shy, untainted. That’s everything he liked about you other than your pretty little face, and the way your voice melted in his ears like molten. Something told him, perhaps his conscience, that it’s a little sick to think of it that way, but lets face it,
You look around the room before meeting his eyes again. Maybe he’s right, you’ve often thought about how embarrassed you may be by the time you get a boyfriend. You didn’t want to date some sex machine, but you also knew you didn’t want them to be just as clueless as you. It’s nice to be guided.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re right. But.. sometimes I feel embarrassed..” You admit, looking up at him through your lashes, still cradling your bible in your arms.
“You don’t have to feel that way, it's natural.” He reassures you.
“Here, sit in this chair. I want to show you something. It’ll help you get over your little embarrassment. You’ll realize how silly it is.” He adds.
You, naive and curious, sit down in the chair while he stands over you.
“What could he possibly be trying to teach me? I hope it’s not one of those ‘look in the mirror and affirm yourself’ nonsense. That’s pretty lame.” You say to yourself.
You sit down in it slowly, looking him straight in the eye as you lower yourself down. Your breath gets heavier before you can even notice.
“Now, just look straight at yourself.” He instructs, softly bringing his palm to your face and turning it straight to your reflection.
He kisses your neck, your cheek, and then your lips. Your eyes fly open and you pull away out of instinct. “Michael! Wh-what are you doing?” You whisper, “ We’re in Church. My mom.. If she found out”.
“Nobody is going to find out.” He softly interrupts.
“But what about God Michael? He can see us. He’ll judge us. I don’t wanna go to hell.”
He smirks and rubs your shoulder. “He won’t mind.”
You look away from his gaze, scared that you won’t be able to say no to anything if you look at him for too long. That soft, tantalizing voice and those big beautiful eyes.
How could anything feel wrong with a man like that?
“I–I’ve just.. I’ve never.” You pause.
Michael smirks with approval and scans your face, “I thought so.”
“Now, let's get these off you.”
He slips off your black skirt, and then your pantyhouse. Now you’re only left in a blouse and panties, which tell on you immediately.
“Oh, wow, y/n. You’re already so wet f’me. That doesn’t seem pure to me.”
Before you can answer, he slips them to the side. He turns your face away from his and toward the mirror, locking eyes with you through the reflection.
He takes his long, veiny fingers to your center and begins rubbing gentle circles. Your hips instinctively buck up and your breath gets shaky. As you look at your face in the mirror, you almost look like you’re about to cry. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you for a second.
You draw your head back as he continues rubbing you. You can’t even get a word out, you just try your best to stay quiet. Until you can’t. You try to close your legs while he’s between you, but he pushes your thigh open with his hand.
“Mmmnn– Michael. My stomach.”
“That’s where you’re supposed to feel it, baby. It’s okay to let me make you feel like that. Stay still for me, please.”
Only being able to utter a moan in response, you bury your head into his chest. But he isn’t gonna let you off that easily. He moves your face toward the reflection once again.
“I didn’t say you could turn away, angel. Or have you had enough?”
He retreats his hand back, causing you to squirm. “No!” You beg, “Please. Please. I promise I won’t move.”
He smirks and continues rubbing you relentlessly, using his free hand to hold you in place while you succumb to his touch. He made sure to hit the spot that feels so good it almost hurts. He knew you’d probably never felt anything like that before, and he wanted to make sure that he was the first person to introduce it to you.
“You’re so good f’me, y/n. Look at you, in God’s house like this. Do you usually get this wet during Church? Hmm?” He whispered in your ear.
Before you could even answer, he slipped a finger into your entrance and watched you tense up and then relax around the newfound pleasure.
“Oh, Michael. Mmm.. it feels so good, f–”
You catch yourself. You’re getting your clit played with in the fellowship hall, but God forbid you let a curse word slip out your lips on top of it.
“Huh? What were you about to say, angel? I can’t hear you.”
You shake your head side to side trying your best not to cum right then and there.
“It feels s-so good. Please. I feel so dirty.”
He suddenly stops, which makes your body retreat.
“Stand up.” He instructs.
He undoes his belt, then opens the zipper to his trousers. He pulls himself out of the hole and grabs you by your waist and pulls you closer to his manhood— causing a broken sigh to escape your lips.
You stand up, and he bends you over the table, leaving you eye level with the reflection. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, and he grips your hair softly to get a better view of your face
“Can I take you, angel?” He asks, lips to yours, as if he’s feeding the words to you. His breath was hot against your skin, his sweet, musky cologne grounding you with his touch.
“Y-yes.” You cry, “Even if it makes me dirty.”
He pushes himself inside of you, stretching you out completely. He’s so long, wide, and warm. You’d never felt anything like it before.
“Michael,” You gasp, “Michael. Oh my God. I-it hurts. Please, my mother. She can’t know.”
“I know baby, but you can take it.”
He grabs your Bible, opens it, and flips to Matthew 6:9-13. He props it up on the mirror.
Read f’me, angel. It’ll cleanse you of your sins, you won’t be dirty anymore.”
“And make sure to look at me.” He adds.
You let out a shaky moan and bite down on your lips. Whatever chance you had of getting into heaven, surely it’s long gone now.
“O-our. Fuck– our father in heaven. Hallowed be thy name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, oh God.”
Your eyes fill up with tears combined with pleasure, dread, and guilt all at once. You struggle to focus on the words as they all begin to blend together.
For the first time in your life, it’s like your body and mind worked against each other.
“Yes that’s right baby, keep going. Don’t stop. Or I’ll stop”
“Give us this— our daily bread, and forgive us our debts. As we have forgiven.. forgiven our debtors.
You let out a tearful sigh as you try to keep your composure.
Without saying a word, Michael pushes himself deeper inside you and holds himself still and begins twitching inside of you. This new sensation makes your body jump forward, making it difficult to even understand what you’re reading.
“Finish it.” He commands.
“And lead us not into t-temptation, but deliver us from evil.”
tags!! @cherrishkissed @thebumbqueen @navydotz @delicate-ray-of-sunshine @michaelssugarbby @borguigrace
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