Praying To Come

This fantasy I had when I got to know that my husband was for a few months in a monastery. There is hot Sunday evening. The last mass in the huge cathedral comes to to end and I still kneel in the last bench. In the corner of my eye I see that only one brother is left  silently sweeping the floor. He's new to this monastery. Tall, handsome around he's thirties. He suits this place with he melancholy gaze, profound silence and strong built. I realize I'm openly staring at him sweeping with the broom. Imaging those huge arm muscles to work, strong hands firmly holding the stick. Inappropriate thoughts roam my brain even faster when he swipes the sweat from his neck. Even in the building you can feel the wave of summer heat. But I'm hot in a different way. Slowly moving my hand between my thighs slide it up still kneeling, with my head slightly down as if I'm deep in a prayer. There's some movement and I peek to see that the monk seats on a similar bench to mine across the church. He's panting from the sweeping and temperature and or maybe he's doing the same as me. Finding he's bulging cock in layers of the fabric and slowly caressing it. He's breath becomes faster and I hear a small moan. That's the point when my fingers find their way up in my vagina. I can stop now and move faster with moist dripping from my hand. On the other side he openly pulls he's erect member and fiercely rubs it while looking straight at me. When our eyes meet I gasp for air and come with an orgasm so strong I have to clench my hand to the bench. My moan is elevated by the echo of the cathedral and second after that I hear he has one too.