Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: Sunday Service

Sunday dawned soft and golden, the kind of morning that made Maple Lane look like a postcard. Birds chirped. Lawnmowers hummed in the distance. Somewhere a child laughed on a swing set.Inside the Thompson house, silence pressed heavy.Alex woke to the sound of running water downstairs. Elena was already up, showering. He lay in bed staring at the ceiling crack that had grown longer over the summer, listening to the steady patter until it shut off.When she emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, hair dripping, she didn't bother closing her bedroom door all the way. Steam curled into the hallway. She sang under her breath—hymns this time, soft and reverent, the ones she used to sing to him when he was small and scared of thunderstorms.Alex stayed in his room until the smell of bacon drifted up.He found her in the kitchen wearing a pale yellow sundress—thin straps, low neckline, hem flirting with mid-thigh. Barefoot. No makeup yet. She looked almost innocent. Almost."Morning, baby." She slid a plate toward him: bacon, eggs over easy, toast. "Church starts at ten. Thought we'd go together. Been a while."Alex hadn't been to church since Easter. Neither had she, really—not since Dad stopped coming home long enough to drag them. But today she seemed determined.He nodded. Didn't trust his voice.She sat across from him, crossed her legs. The dress rode up just enough to show the lace edge of stockings. Black. Sheer. The same ones from Friday night, he realized with a sick lurch. Still faintly stained along the inner thighs if you knew where to look.They ate in near-silence. She kept glancing at him—soft, searching. Like she was waiting for something.After breakfast she disappeared upstairs to "get ready." Alex cleared the table, rinsed plates, tried not to think about how her lipstick had looked smeared across Marcus's cock two nights ago.When she came back down twenty minutes later, the transformation was complete.Hair swept into an elegant updo. Makeup flawless—smoky eyes, red lips that screamed sin even in daylight. The yellow dress now looked obscene: clinging to every curve, the neckline dipping low enough to show the swell of her breasts with every breath. High black heels. A thin gold chain around her neck that disappeared between her cleavage.She looked like she was going to seduce the entire congregation."Ready?" she asked brightly.Alex swallowed. "Yeah."The drive to St. Mary's was quiet. Elena hummed along to the radio. Her hand rested on the gearshift, fingers tapping. Every red light she shifted in her seat, thighs rubbing together with a soft whisper of nylon.In the church parking lot she parked far from the entrance. "Gives us time to walk," she said. "Enjoy the morning."They walked side by side. Her heels clicked on the asphalt. Heads turned—old men, young fathers pushing strollers, teenage boys pretending not to stare. Elena smiled at everyone. Sweet. Warm. The perfect parishioner.Inside the nave the air was cool and thick with incense. They slid into a pew near the back. Elena crossed her legs toward Alex, knee brushing his. She leaned in to whisper the opening hymn lyrics when he forgot them, breath warm against his ear.During the sermon—something about temptation and the weakness of the flesh—her hand found his thigh.Just rested there.Light.Casual.Alex froze.She didn't move it. Just let her palm heat through his slacks while Father Michael droned on about resisting the devil.When the congregation stood for the Our Father, Elena rose slowly. Her dress rode up slightly in back. Alex saw the faint outline of a plug beneath the thin fabric—no panties, just like Marcus's note had demanded. The jeweled base glinted briefly when she shifted.His mouth went dry.Communion came. Elena went forward with the line. Alex stayed seated, claiming he wasn't feeling well. From the pew he watched her glide up the aisle—hips swaying just enough to draw eyes. When she reached the front she knelt gracefully, tongue extended. Father Michael placed the wafer. She closed her lips around it slowly, eyes half-lidded.Back in the pew she sat closer than before. Thigh pressed fully against his now.Her hand returned—higher this time. Fingers tracing lazy circles over the growing bulge in his pants.Alex's breath hitched.She leaned in, lips brushing his ear. "Shh. No one can see."He should pull away. Should stand up. Should leave.Instead he stayed perfectly still while her fingers worked the button of his slacks open beneath the hymnals on his lap. Slid the zipper down inch by inch.Her hand slipped inside.Wrapped around him through his boxers.Stroked once—slow, firm.Alex bit the inside of his cheek to keep silent.She kept the rhythm gentle. Teasing. Matching the slow cadence of the closing hymn. When the organ swelled she squeezed harder. When the choir hit the high note she twisted her wrist just right.He came in her hand—silent, violent, soaking the cotton in hot spurts. His whole body locked. Vision whited out for a second.Elena never stopped smiling sweetly at the altar.When the final blessing ended she withdrew her hand, wiped it discreetly on the inside hem of her dress, then stood like nothing had happened."Let's go home," she murmured.The drive back was torture.She drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting between her own thighs—rubbing slow circles over the plug through the dress. Soft little whimpers escaped her lips every few minutes.When they pulled into the garage she killed the engine but didn't move."Alex," she said quietly.He couldn't look at her."I know you've been watching."His heart stopped."I know you've seen things. Heard things." She turned toward him. Reached over. Tipped his chin up with one finger until their eyes met. "And I know you liked it."He tried to speak. Nothing came out.She smiled—slow, sad, predatory."I'm not sorry." Her voice was soft. Almost tender. "I was dying inside that house waiting for your father to remember I exist. Marcus… the others… they make me feel alive. Desired. Needed."She leaned closer. Breath ghosting his lips."But you're still my boy. My sweet, perfect boy." Her hand slid to his cheek. Thumb brushing away a tear he hadn't realized was there. "And if watching Mommy get what she needs makes you feel something… then watch. Learn. Enjoy it."She kissed him then—not on the cheek.On the mouth.Soft. Lingering. Tongue tracing the seam of his lips until they parted on a gasp. She tasted like communion wafer and sin.When she pulled back her eyes were dark."Tonight Marcus is bringing friends. A lot of them." She traced his bottom lip with her thumb. "Door will be unlocked. Living room lights on. You can stay in your room… or you can come downstairs. Sit in the corner. Watch up close."She opened the car door."Choice is yours, baby."She stepped out, heels clicking on the concrete, hips swaying as she walked into the house.Alex sat in the passenger seat for a long time.Staring at the dashboard.Cock still half-hard.Tears drying on his face.Taste of her lipstick on his tongue.He didn't know what he would do when night fell.But he knew one thing with brutal clarity:The crack had become a chasm.And he was already falling.