#2-4 Church Visit (Married Woman Amy - Secret Sex at Work) (2)
Another murder had occurred. This time, the victim was a commoner—a man, and above all, one of the church's patrons. The incident finally brought a hint of tension even to the church's upper echelons.
Even so, there were still no leads on the culprit, and the investigation groped blindly in the dark…
"You want to sponsor our activities?"
Sharon echoed the priestess's words.
It wasn't the first time sponsorship had come to Sharon, who oversaw the city's security, or the organization under her command. But the sum this time was staggeringly huge—enough to make one's eyes bulge—and a direct donation to the security bureau rather than the council elders was far from commonplace.
The church and order's real power rested with those elders. Anyone seeking ties or favors usually donated to them. "For the security bureau" was just a pretext.
If even half—no, a tenth—of that money had come our way, we'd be rich by now.
Sharon's own incorruptibility probably factored in too. She called herself a delinquent priestess and all that, but true to her saintess title, she couldn't stomach injustice.
Those with shady motives would deem investing in her unprofitable.
Anyway, massive direct donations bypassing the council were rare. Was this a rare good Samaritan? Or someone with ulterior motives?
Sharon followed the priestess to the church's reception room.
"……!?"
What the hell is that?
Sharon nearly reflexively hurled an attack spell upon entering. The man greeting her exuded an ominous aura at first glance.
"Sharon Saintess, I presume. An honor to meet you. Had to donate all this just for a glimpse—you're quite the precious commodity. Ah, no offense meant. Don't misunderstand."
He rose with a bright smile. Black hair, black eyes—handsome, without a rough edge in sight.
Yet an eerie chill clung to him, like something writhing just beneath his skin.
She scanned the room warily, but the other priestesses seemed oblivious.
Just my imagination?
"What's wrong?"
"…Nothing. My apologies."
Illusion or instinct? Unclear, but worth watching closely.
"You're Hilton Mera, correct? Our deepest thanks again for your generosity."
Sharon sat as if unperturbed, though her gaze held a trace of suspicion.
* * *
The Holy Light Kingdom Berea was a theocracy. Clergy handled territories and diplomacy in place of kings and nobles. The pope filled the throne, high priests led local churches—essentially a reskin of the usual setup.
Some differences aside, sway those high priests instead of nobles, and the whole kingdom was yours.
Of course, easier said than done.
One key obstacle: the saintesses. The kingdom's signature hero units, all goddess-blessed elites at minimum Lv.4. Though high priests and elders gripped most power, these directly chosen saintesses commanded massive popular support.
With two or more agreeing, they could even authorize extralegal acts. Their weight rivaled the pope's at times.
Topple the saintesses, or the kingdom stays out of reach.
"Ah, welcome back, sponsor!"
As Gaon returned to Mera Laundry, Amy Mera beamed at him.
A few days into running the place, he was growing accustomed to its rhythms.
Husband Hilton Mera remained locked in the basement. Business suffered no ill effects, though—Maid No. 2, whom Gaon had brought, filled his shoes admirably.
From basic sorting to custom cleaning, sewing, and hem adjustments, she handled it all. Nothing like Hilton, whose decades in the trade hadn't improved his hopeless skills.
Amy actually found work easier than usual. The help came gratis, which felt oddly unsettling.
So much aid, yet no salary demanded…
"It's fine, Amy. They were born for this work."
"I… don't think that's right."
"No, Master speaks true. We exist to serve Master's will—that's our purpose."
No. 2's own words left Amy speechless.
Hours remained till closing. She escorted Gaon upstairs, hoping to refocus, but he pressed against her from behind, hiking up her skirt and kneading her ass.
Amy clamped her lips, enduring. After several such encounters these past days, surprise had worn off.
"Um, sponsor… I'm still working…"
"No customers right now, yeah? No one's watching."
"…T-True, but…"
Gaon draped an arm over her slim shoulders, drawing her to the shop's back. Piles of entrusted clothes needed handling, she protested weakly—but No. 2 could manage, he insisted. Amy fell silent; the maid truly outpaced her several times over.
In the partitioned rest nook, Gaon kissed her. His hands roamed her body over her clothes. Next, he fed her his cock to suck, while she fingered her pussy wet.
"Now brace against the wall, Amy."
Ready, she did—ass thrust out. Skirt flipped, panties shed mid-masturbation, baring her round cheeks and slick folds.
Gaon plunged into the married woman's heat. Scorching, clingy bliss as always.
He savored it leisurely, hips rocking slow.
Slow as it was, it overwhelmed her. Every twitch inside sparked hypersensitive reactions; she fought back moans desperately.
Ding-a-ling—"Excuse me, dropping off laundry."
"Yes, this way, sir."
'Ugh, hnn… customer outside…'
Through the thin partition, the bell and voices rang clear.
"(Ngh…! Ahh…!)"
Customer or not, Gaon's thrusts persisted. Amy muffled fiercely, lest sounds carry. Stifled whimpers leaked past her hand.
"Where are the Mera couple? This was their place, right?"
"Husband's traveling. Wife stepped out briefly."
Tension coiled her tighter. It sharpened every plunge, moans harder to contain.
Didn't want discovery. Prayed the noise stayed unheard. Willed it quicker—but Gaon remained steady, unhurried.
More customers trickled in after; one lingered chatting with No. 2.
Amy suffered, suppressing to the brink of death.
"Then I'll head out. Thanks."
Ding-a-ling…
After razor-edge close calls, the last departed.
Tension drained from Amy like an ebbing tide.
Relaxed—then a deep, pinning thrust speared her guard. She shattered in grand climax.
Hips bucking against the wall, she gasped, "Haaah, hiiik!"
Gaon unloaded moments later. Thick, scalding seed gushed deep into her core.
"Good as ever today, Amy."
"Ah, haa… Thank goodness… ♡"
Gaon fondled her ass once more, then withdrew. Before it leaked, he slipped her panties back on.
"Finish the day like this."
Amy looked loath, but viewing him as sponsor barred refusal.
For the sponsorship… for my beloved husband, our livelihood here… no choice…
Sensing sticky cum seep through her panties, trickle down her thighs, she soldiered on with business.