A Proper Baptist

Discussion in 'Sexual Fetishes and Fantasies' started by jallen944, Oct 1, 2005.

  1. jallen944

    jallen944 New Member

    Jan 7, 2005
    Likes Received:
    A Proper Baptist
    by jallen944 ©

    Part 1

    Marcie kicked a stone that skittered along the sidewalk and bounced off the curb into the street. She carried her damp towel over her arms, folded across her chest. Her sandy blonde hair hung loose in straggly wet strands that touched her bare shoulders. The sun was warm on her back and dried her wet bikini top slowly. Her bikini bottoms left wet marks in her cut-off shorts. Beside her, Sheila carried her towel over her shoulder. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her wet bikini was drying, too, but she wasn't wearing cut-off shorts over the bottoms.

    "So what'd you do last night?" Sheila said.

    Marcie shrugged. "Not much, just watched tv. What'd you do?"

    "I went over to see Philip last night. We got in so much trouble."

    "What happened?" Marcie said.

    "We were like, making out on his bed in his room and he wanted to have sex with me, but I couldn't because I was like, having my period and everything, and he didn't have a condom and that was like, such a drag."

    "What'd you do?"

    Sheila chuckled. "He said he had to get his rocks off because his balls hurt, so he took out his dick and asked me to jerk him off."

    "Did you?" Marcie said, staring at her friend with wide eyes.

    "Are you crazy? Of course I did. I'm not gonna turn a guy down when he shows me his dick."

    "How'd you get in trouble?" Marcie said.

    "His Dad busted us. He was so pissed."

    "Oh my God."

    "He said he was taking me home like right now and he grounded Philip for like, the rest of his life. And get this, when we were in his car he asks me what we were doing."

    "No way. What'd you tell him?"

    Sheila shrugged as if it was nothing.

    "I told him I was jerking him off, what do you think, and he's like, you were jerking my son off, what are you, some kind of slut, so I'm like, I'm no slut, he wanted it. So he like, pulls the car over and says why don't you jerk me off? And I'm like, whip it out dude, and I will, so he like, whips out his thing, right in front of me."

    Marcie's mouth hung open. "What'd you do?"

    "I jerked him off, what do you think?"

    Marcie covered her mouth and laughed. "Oh my God. You jerked off Philip's Dad in his car?"

    "Yeah, and we were like, right in front of the school, too," Sheila said with a grin.

    "Was he like, really big?"

    Sheila shrugged. "Not much bigger than Philip."


    "Why, were you hoping his dick was like, real fat and long?"

    "I guess," Marcie said.

    Sheila sighed. "Yeah, I guess me, too."

    They walked on quietly for a bit, passing some of the shops on Fort Street. When they walked past the bike shop, a couple of guys inside stopped to stare at them. Marcie grinned but didn't look back. Something about the town was different, now that she and Sheila were eighteen and high school was done. It was going to be strange to go to college at the end of summer.

    "You know what happened next? Philip's Dad told me my hand wasn't enough. He wanted me to blow him," Sheila said.

    "Did you?"

    "Yeah. What else was I gonna do? I needed a ride home. Besides, he's kinda cute."

    "Was it gross, I mean, putting his thing in your mouth?" Marcie said, wrinkling her nose.

    Sheila shook her head. "Not really. It felt kinda cool, actually, the way it rubbed on my tongue. My jaw got sore. But then he shot his wad in my mouth and that was really gross, I mean really gross. I just rolled down the window and spit it out."

    "Yeah, that would be gross," Marcie said, but in her belly she felt a pang of envy. She remembered the one time she jerked off Dean in the bathroom at McDonald's after the senior prom. He wanted to have sex with her then, and she said no. Instead, she rubbed him until his stuff spilled over her hand. She wished she had let him shoot his wad in her mouth.

    "Are you gonna be pregnant now?" Marcie said.

    Sheila stopped suddenly and grabbed Marcie's arm. "Oh my God, I hope not. I don't what I'd do if I got pregnant. My Mom would kill me. If I do, though, I think it'll be with Philip's Dad. I hope he gives me a ride home in his car again. Next time I wanna do more than just blow him. I'm gonna let him fuck me. I don't care if I get pregnant. It'll be worth it."

    "Yeah," Marcie said.

    "Come on, let's get to my house and get something to eat," Sheila said.

    They laughed and ran the rest of the way down the street, swinging their towels.

    * * * *

    Dean smiled at her from across the church basement. Marcie felt her skin flush. He nodded toward the side doors and she suddenly felt warm all over. He pointed to the doors again. Marcie nodded.

    Mom and Dad were sitting with the Johnsons at another table. Marcie stuck her fork in the piece of cake in front of her. The church basement was full of people, all sitting at the tables or standing around, talking and eating cake and punch. At the other end of the basement, by the stairs, Pastor Nowicki, Dean's father, was helping the old ladies cut the cakes into pieces and serve them on paper plates. Standing next to him was Pastor Oliver, the younger Pastor, smiling and handing plates to people as they went by. He was cute, but not really good looking like Dean was good looking. He was more like a brother she could talk to. Dean made her insides melt when he looked at her.

    Marcie took a sip of punch, pushed her chair away from the table with the paper tablecloth, and walked between all the people to the other side of the basement, her hands clasped together over the front of her white dress. She felt ridiculous in that stupid dress. Mom still treated her like a toy doll. She was eighteen now. When could she be a woman?

    At the door, she glanced at Dean. He smiled, but looked at her for only an instant. Again, Marcie felt a flush of warmth through her body. The crotch of her white cotton panties was already stained.

    She went through the door and up the stairs, the heels of her black patent leather shoes clicking on the steps. At the top, she went around the corner and waited, hoping Dean would hurry. She heard the door open and footsteps coming up. He appeared in front of her and she let her breath out in a big sigh.

    "I thought what if it wasn't you," she said.

    "Yeah," he said.

    He put his hands on her waist and kissed her. She closed her eyes, letting his tongue push into her mouth. His hands moved down to the back of her dress and squeezed her ass.

    "Where do you wanna go?" Marcie said.

    "I know a place."

    Dean pulled her by her hand to a girl's bathroom on the second floor. With his hands on her waist again, he lifted her on the counter. He pulled her knees apart and moved between them, pushing up her skirt.

    "What if someone comes in. They'll see us," Marcie said.

    "Yeah, I know."

    Dean bent forward and kissed her again. In the front of his pleated slacks, a hard bulge pressed against her warm mound. Marcie shivered, imagining what he had in there.

    Dean's tongue was deep in her mouth. His hand lifted the front of her skirt and slipped into her panties. She spread her legs wider. His rough fingers rubbed her wet slit and she moaned in his mouth.

    "I wanna have sex with you. Let's do it right here," Dean said, whispering in her ear. His tongue licked her earlobe.

    "I can't. I'm a virgin."

    "I know you're a virgin. That's why I wanna fuck you," he said.

    Marcie shivered. His words gave her a thrill. Dean was so cute and so confident, and he wanted to fuck her. But she shook her head.

    "I can't. I'm saving myself," she said.

    "Saving yourself for what?"

    "For when I get married," Marcie said.

    Dean sighed, but the hard lump of his erection was still pressed against her mound. Deep inside, she felt a twinge of regret. He must have been waiting for this for a long time and she turned him down. And he was so excited, so hard. She pressed her mound against the lump. God, he was so hard.

    She waited for him to say something, anything, but he was just staring at the counter. She should do something for him, at least jerk him off or something. Why didn't he just ask?

    "Dean, are you all right?" she said.

    "Yeah, fine."

    Marcie waited, watching his face. If he wasn't going to ask her, she would do it for him. She slipped her hand between their bodies and rubbed the hard lump in his slacks.

    "Do you want me to blow you?" she said.

    He looked into her eyes. "Blow me?"

    "Yeah. I'll blow you if you need me to."

    "Yeah, I need it bad. Why don't you do that," he said.

    He stepped back, unzipped his slacks and pulled his hard dick out through the hole in his jockey shorts.

    Marcie hopped off the counter, licking her lips. Dean was not only cute and confident, but he had a beautiful dick. With her hands on Dean's thighs, Marcie crouched in front of him. She didn't want to get down on her knees and ruin her dress. Mom would wonder how she got it dirty, and she would have to tell her how she went with Dean to the girl's bathroom and got on her knees to blow him.

    He sighed when she kissed the tip and let it slide between her lips. She liked the feel of it pressing down on her tongue. She licked around the tip. Now that she had it in her mouth, she was not sure what to do next. Sheila never said anything about that part. She moved her head back and forth. Dean groaned. He seemed to like that, so she did it some more.

    "Yeah, baby," he said.

    He put his hands on top of her head and pulled her face to his crotch. The end of his cock went deep into her mouth and touched the back of her throat. She gagged, but he did not let go. For a second she panicked, until he moved her head away like he was fucking her mouth. Her eyes turned up to look into his face. His eyes were closed and his teeth were clenched. He pulled her head to his crotch again, making her gag. He was being rough and she should make him let her up, but she kind of liked it.

    The door opened with a loud squeak. Marcie tried to get up, but Dean's hands held her down. She strained to see who it was out of the corner of her eye and saw another girl with dark hair in pigtails in the doorway. Her eyes were wide, her mouth hung open, and she was pulling on one of her pigtails.

    "I'm busy Carol Ann. What do you want?" Dean said.

    "Is that Marcie," she said in her high voice.

    "Yeah. Why?"

    "What's she doing?"

    Marcie closed her eyes. Saliva filled her mouth and leaked out the corners, running over Dean's balls. She tried to speak, but Dean's dick garbled her words.

    Dean sighed. "She's sucking my dick, Carol Ann. What do you want?"

    "Daddy's looking for you."

    "Tell him I'll be there in a minute. Now get out of here," he said.

    With a quick grin at Marcie, Carol Ann turned and skipped out through the squeaky door, the braided pigtails bobbing on either side of her head.

    "God, she is such a pain in my ass," Dean said.

    Marcie looked way up at him and blinked a few times. He was moving his hips back and forth, sliding his cock in and out of her mouth. Her jaw was getting sore. His hips moved faster. His breathing was heavier.

    "I'm gonna cum in your mouth," he said, panting for breath.

    Marcie tried to tell him to wait, but again her voice was muffled. Sheila said it was pretty gross when Philip's Dad did his stuff in her mouth. Before she could stop him, though, Dean's dick throbbed and a glob of salty, warm fluid landed on the back of her tongue. She squealed. His dick throbbed again and her mouth quickly filled with his stuff.

    Dean sighed again. His hips stopped moving.

    "That was good, real good," he said, and pulled his dick from her mouth.

    Marcie stood up. Her cheeks were puffed out, full of his warm stuff. She looked for a place to spit it out, like the sink.

    Dean pointed at her with his finger.

    "Don't you dare spit out my cum, girl. I've been ordained by my father. That sperm is holy," he said.

    Marcie stared at him with wide eyes. She made a face and swallowed, but it wasn't so bad. What was Sheila making such a big deal about? She wiped up the drop that leaked out over her chin.

    "How did your sister know you were in here?" she said.

    Dean was zipping up his slacks and shrugged.

    "This is where I bring all the girls," he said.

    Marcie watched his face. Was he serious? But he didn't look at her. She lifted the front of her white dress.

    "Do you wanna lick me now?" she said.

    Dean made a funny face and laughed.

    "You gotta be kidding. You're not gonna let me fuck you and now you want me to give you head? I'm outta here," he said, and walked out through the squeaky door.

    Marcie clenched her jaws and let the front of her dress fall. She went back down the stairs to the basement. Dean was at the front tables with his father, talking to someone. Her Mom and Dad were still sitting with the Johnsons. She sat down to finish her cake, but it tasted like Dean's warm, salty stuff. What did he call it? She couldn't remember.

    Mom came back around to her side of the table and put her hands on her shoulders.

    "How's the cake, dear?" she said.

    "Fine Mom," Marcie said.

    She smiled, wondering if she could see any of Dean's stuff on her teeth.
  2. jallen944

    jallen944 New Member

    Jan 7, 2005
    Likes Received:
    Part 2

    Sheila heard the car in the driveway first. Only a few moments after that, Philip’s Mom came in the front door. Sheila and Philip sat beside each other on the sofa, watching tv, and looked at her at the same time.

    “Hi kids, have a good time tonight?” she said and hung her light jacket on one of the hooks by the door.

    “Yeah, fine Mom, how was the show?” Philip said. He squeezed Sheila’s hand and moved it up his thigh, where his Mom couldn’t see.

    “Oh, the show was good, you know. Hi Sheila. Philip, it’s time for your girlfriend to go home now. Say good night. Your father’s waiting in the car to take her home,” she said and disappeared into the kitchen.

    Philip walked with Sheila to the front door and pulled it open. Outside, his father was sitting in the car in the driveway with the motor running and his elbow hanging out the window. Sheila looked up at Philip.

    “I really liked it,” he said.

    “I know. I did too,” Sheila said.

    “Well, I’ll call you, ok?”

    “Ok. Kiss me,” Sheila said.

    She tilted her head up and they kissed. She turned her eyes to the car, but couldn’t see Philip’s father’s face in the darkness. With a smile and a quick wave, she skipped off the porch and went around to the passenger’s side of the car.

    Philip’s Dad looked good in a coat and tie. Sheila licked her lips with the tip of her tongue. He looked good enough to eat. He didn’t say anything when she got in, simply backed the car out of the driveway and drove off.

    “Did you and Philip have a nice time tonight?” he said when they reached the first stop light.

    “Fine. You look nice, Mr. Morrison,” Sheila said.

    He looked at her and smiled. “Thanks.”

    “Can I turn on the radio?”


    Sheila turned it on and changed the station from that boring, old jazz music to her favorite station. The new Brittney Spears song was on. She turned the volume up a little. Mr. Morrison didn’t object.

    She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He looked so hot. The few wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, and the specks of gray in his hair gave him such a distinguished appearance. She looked at his hands on the steering wheel. Was he going to try anything with her tonight? God, how she would love to feel those hands touching her. He had a nice dick too, long and thick, not short and skinny like most of the guys her own age. That was the best part about fucking grown up men; they had grown up dicks.

    Mr. Morrison turned off the main street and drove behind the school to the quiet, dark parking lot. Sheila’s pulse quickened. That was the same place he took her last time.

    “Where are we going?” she said in a soft, high voice like a little girl.

    “A quiet place where we can talk,” Mr. Morrison said.

    He parked in a dark corner where the dim glow of the moon was just enough for her to see his face. He shut the engine off and the car was suddenly very quiet.

    “What do you wanna talk about?” she said in a whisper and squeezed her legs together.

    “I think you know,” he said.

    He leaned across the seat and kissed her. Sheila let her lips part. His tongue pushed into her mouth. His fingers touched her waist and closed over her breast. Sheila sucked in a deep breath and arched her back, pushing her chest closer to his hand.

    “You’re not wearing a bra,” he said with a deep breath.

    Sheila shook her head. “It gets in the way.”

    Mr. Morrison kissed her again. His lips smacked softly against hers. Sheila moaned in his mouth. His thumb rubbed the tip of her nipple through her shirt, then his hand left her chest and she heard the zipper of his slacks go down. She touched his leg and moved her hand up to his crotch. Her fingers touched his bare, hard cock and she gasped.

    “Is that your ... thing?” she said in a whisper.

    “Yeah. Why don’t you kiss it.”

    “You want me to?”


    With her hand around the shaft, Sheila bent over and smothered the head in her soft lips. Above her, Mr. Morrison sighed. She gave it a long, wet lick and he moaned. Sheila grinned. She opened her mouth wide, closed her lips around the end and moved her head up and down.

    “Oh yes, Sheila,” Mr. Morrison said.

    His left hand held the steering wheel. His right hand stroked her back. Sheila sucked slowly. When her head came up she sucked in her cheeks, and when she lowered her head she took his cock deeper in her mouth. Every time she gave head she thanked her older sister for showing her how to get a guy off with her mouth. They always came back for more. Tonight though, she was the one who wanted more.

    She sat up on the seat and looked at Mr. Morrison, grinning. In her small hand, she pumped his hard penis slowly.

    “What are you grinning at?” he said.

    “I have a secret.”


    “I had sex with Philip tonight,” she said.

    Mr. Morrison’s eyes widened.

    “You what?” he said.

    “You heard me. I had sex with Philip tonight. I let him touch me anywhere he wanted and I let him put his dick inside me,” Sheila said.

    Mr. Morrison was quiet for a moment. She could read the disbelief on his face.

    “You’re lying,” he said.

    Sheila shook her head, still grinning.

    “I can prove it,” she said.


    She pushed her jeans down to her ankles, spread her legs and touched her pussy, where a drop of white liquid leaked out.

    “That’s his cum. I let him shoot his wad inside me without a condom,” Sheila said.

    “You’re crazy. What if he gets you pregnant?” Mr. Morrison said.

    Sheila shrugged. “I’d prefer if you got me pregnant.”

    His eyes stared at her, burning with desire. With her jeans still down around her ankles, Sheila climbed between the two front seats to the back seat, pausing a second to let Mr. Morrison get a good look at her bare ass, and rolled on her back. Her knees bent up. She pulled her shirt over her breasts and pinched her nipples.

    Mr. Morrison jumped out of the car and opened the back door. His dick stuck out of his pants, bobbing up and down. Sheila giggled. He dropped his pants and climbed into the back seat between her spread legs. The end of his dark tie tickled her bare breasts.

    “Is this how my son fucked you?” he said.

    He rubbed the head of his dick over her moist slit and pushed it in. Sheila moaned. It was hot and hard and stretched her open.

    “We did it on his bed, right next to your room,” she said.

    Mr. Morrison slammed his cock deep inside her. Sheila gasped and smiled, gazing up to his eyes in the dim light. She put one hand around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair.

    “Philip didn’t fuck me like that, Mr. Morrison,” she said.

    He pulled back his hips and drove himself into her again. Their flesh slapped together.

    “No, I didn’t think so. That boy still has a lot to learn,” he said.

    Sheila rocked her hips with his. The whole car shook. Her other hand slipped inside his coat to his waist and moved down to his ass.

    “He likes to eat pussy,” Sheila said.

    “Is that what he did to you?” Mr. Morrison said between deep breaths.

    Sheila nodded. “He knows how to use his tongue.”

    Mr. Morrison closed his eyes and pounded harder with his hips. Sheila groaned. Her nails dug into his ass. He lay over her with his mouth close to her ear, flattening her into the seat.

    “Yes baby ... oh yeah baby,” she moaned in his ear, even though it felt odd to call Philip’s Dad baby.

    That was what she was moaning in Philip’s ear, just a few moments before his parents got home. She saw the headlights of their car flash on the wall over the bed and when she told him they were home he spilled his stuff inside her in a hurry. The screwed up look on his face still made her smile. They put their clothes on even faster and ran to the living room only seconds before his Mom came in the front door.

    Mr. Morrison’s head came up. In her tight pussy, his hard dick throbbed. He grunted. Just like his son, Mr. Morrison’s face screwed up in that funny expression. Sheila giggled, even while his warm, fresh cum flowed into her belly.

    He lay on top of her, panting. She ran her hands down his back. His cum leaked from her hole and ran down the crack of her ass. It was a strange thrill to know it was mixed with his son’s cum.

    Mr. Morrison pushed himself up from between her legs.

    “I’d better get you home before your mother wonders where you are,” he said. He stood outside the car and pulled up his pants.

    “Yeah,” Sheila said.

    She reached down to her ankles and pulled up her jeans. Mr. Morrison’s cum left a wet stain in the crotch. She sighed. If Mom saw that she wouldn’t have to wonder what her daughter was doing. She climbed back into the front seat and Mr. Morrison drove her home, just a few minutes from the school. She opened the door to get out.

    “Good night Mr. Morrison,” she said.

    He grabbed her wrist, pulled her back into the car and kissed her. Sheila stiffened at first; what if Mom was at the window and saw her kissing her boyfriend’s father? But Mr. Morrison’s hand slithered under her shirt and squeezed her bare breast and she melted like butter in a hot skillet. So what if Mom saw? So what if everyone in the world saw? She just got fucked, twice in one night, and it was good both times.

    Mr. Morrison finally released her.

    “Good night Sheila. We’ll do this again next time,” he said.

    “Yeah,” Sheila said.

    She stared into his eyes a few moments longer, jumped out of the car and ran to the front door of the house. She watched the tail lights of his car drive away, feeling an anxious twinge between her legs. One day she would get him to fuck her the right way, in her own bed in her own room.

    Mom was in the living room, watching tv. Sheila said hi and ran to her bedroom before she could stop her. A drop of Mr. Morrison’s juice was running down her leg. She had to do something about it before it leaked out all over her.

    She sat on the edge of her bed and kicked off her shoes and jeans. The crotch of her panties was soaked. She snickered. That was another thing she liked about older men; they had more cum to give up.

    Her panties peeled away from her mound. She threw them in the corner with the rest of her dirty clothes, where she hoped Mom wouldn’t find them. It had been so long since Mom got fucked she probably wouldn’t remember what man cum smelled like.

    A white drop of liquid oozed between her pussy lips. She scooped it up on the end of her middle finger and stuffed it back in. Her button still tingled. Philip was good with his tongue, but not quite good enough to get her off. Later, after she showed him a few things, he would get her off every time. For now, though, she rubbed his Daddy’s sperm over her button with her middle finger until lights flashed in her eyes and her body twitched. She bit her lower lip to keep from screaming out loud so Mom wouldn’t know what she was doing.

    Her middle finger was sticky with juices. She stuck it in her mouth, licked it clean, picked up the phone and dialed Marcie’s number.

    “Hello?” Marcie said.

    “I did it,” Sheila said.

    “Sheila? Did what?”

    Sheila giggled. “I let Philip’s Dad fuck me in his car tonight.”

    “You what? No way.”

    “Yeah. His cum is still warm in my pussy. His and Philip’s.”

    Over the phone, Marcie gasped.

    “You let both of them fuck you?” she said.

    “Oh yeah. It was like, so great. Did you let Dean fuck you yet?” Sheila said.

    On the other end of the phone, Marcie was quiet for a few seconds.

    “No,” she said.

    “When are you gonna let him fuck you? Are you gonna stay a virgin forever?”
  3. jallen944

    jallen944 New Member

    Jan 7, 2005
    Likes Received:
    Part 3

    Marcie walked with her head down. Sheila’s words hurt. She should have let Dean do it to her at the church.

    At the corner, she waited for the lights to change and the traffic to stop before she crossed the street. The sun was warm on her face and her bare shoulders. She was wearing a pink tank top and cut-off overalls. She switched the wadded piece of paper from the palm of one hand to the other and folded it open to read it again. Mom wanted a list of stuff. What a pain.

    A black car pulled up beside her, almost running over her toe. Marcie jumped and turned to yell at the driver. It was Dean in his convertible with the top down and his left elbow hanging over the door.

    “Dean, you almost hit me,” she said.

    “What are you doing?” he said.

    Marcie looked at the wadded list in her hand.

    “I gotta do this thing for my Mom,” she said.

    “That can wait. Are you ready?”

    Marcie stared at him for a second. What did he mean was she ready?

    “I guess so,” she said with a shrug.

    “Good. Get in.” He leaned over and opened the passenger door. Marcie got in and he drove away.

    “Where are we going?” she said. The wind blew her hair in her face and she picked the strands out of her mouth.

    “My brother’s apartment. He’s got a bed we can use.”

    Marcie nodded and smiled. They were going to have sex. She couldn’t wait until they were done so she could call Sheila and tell her all about it.

    Dean used a key to unlock the door to the apartment. The shower was running in the bathroom when they went in. Dean tossed his keys on the counter.

    “You want something to drink? I think my brother’s got something in the fridge,” he said. His voice echoed in the kitchen.

    “Are you sure we’re alone?” Marcie said, lowering her voice.

    Dean opened the refrigerator door.

    “You mean the shower? That’s just Frank. He told me he’d be here. You want a beer?” he said.

    Marcie hesitated, her eyes on the bathroom door. She and Dean were there to have sex and his brother was going to be there? The idea gave her a thrill and she shivered.

    “I’m not old enough to drink beer,” she said.

    Dean shrugged and popped the top on the can.

    “What do I care?” he said.

    He took a long drink and handed her the can. She sniffed at the opening and it smelled awful. The shower ended and the bathroom was quiet. Out of the corner of her eye, Marcie watched the door, waiting for it to open.

    “Drink up. Today’s a special day,” Dean said. He opened another can and took a drink.

    Marcie sipped her beer. It was bitter and sour and she made a face.

    The bathroom door opened. Marcie turned quickly to look. Dean’s brother came out with a towel around his waist and his chest bare. Marcie’s eyes widened.

    “Hey Dean. Who’s the chick?” he said, and ran his fingers through his wet, dark hair.

    “This is Marcie. You met her once,” Dean said and took another drink.

    “Hi,” Marcie said.

    “Oh yeah, I remember. You were younger,” he said with a nod and disappeared into one of the bedrooms.

    Marcie watched the door close, the can of beer touching her lower lip. Would she have sex with him, too? How would it feel to have sex with two in one day?

    Dean put his beer on the counter, put his hands on Marcie’s hips and kissed her. She tilted her head to the side and opened her mouth to let his tongue in. He pulled her tight to his body. His hands moved down to her ass and she felt his erection poking her belly.

    She moaned in Dean’s mouth. Holding the can of beer in one hand, she touched her other hand to his waist. Her pussy was warm and moist. She couldn’t wait for Dean to push his hard thing inside her, or feel his thick white stuff pump into her belly.

    Dean took the beer from her hand and set it on the counter beside his.

    “Come on. It’s time,” he said.

    He slipped his hand into hers and tugged her arm. He led her to the door next to his brother’s room, opened it and flicked on the light.

    Marcie gasped. “Wow. What is this place?” she said.

    The walls were adorned with framed images of Mary, the virgin mother. Over the bed was a large crucifix with a painted carving of Christ, complete with a crown of thorns and blood from the nails driven through his hands and feet. Dean struck a match and lit three candles on the dresser.

    “This is our holy receptacle. My brother and I bring the virtuous girls here to be deflowered. If you’re going to lose your virginity it should be done right, don’t you think?” he said, and blew out the match.

    He picked up a crystal vial, held it in his clasped hands, bent his head where he stood beside the bed and mumbled a prayer. Marcie closed her eyes and bent her head as well. When he finished with an Amen, Dean opened the vial and sprinkled a few drops of water on the white sheets.

    “You brought other girls here?” Marcie said.

    “Of course. We bring them all here. Where else would we do it? Now kneel, child,” Dean said.

    Marcie dropped to her knees before him. Her eyes stared at the bulge in his slacks. With his finger over the open neck of the vial, he tilted the bottle. On her forehead, between her eyebrows, he smeared the holy water in the mark of a cross.

    “For what you are about to sacrifice, God forgives you,” he said. He unbuckled his slacks and let them drop to the floor. His purplish erection sprang up in her face. He put his hand on top of her head. “Now suck me child. You must receive the sacrament of my seed. Only it will keep you pure.”

    He pulled her head to his crotch. His hard dick poked her cheek before it found her open mouth. He shoved it all the way to the back of her mouth and did not let up when she gagged. He used both hands to hold her head steady and pumped his dick in and out of her mouth with his hips. Marcie clamped her lips in a tight ring around his shaft and held onto Dean’s thighs. The head of his cock rubbed over her tongue and tickled the soft skin at the back of her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut.

    “Oh yes ... I can make you a child of God,” Dean said.

    Marcie sighed and sucked harder. Would Mom and Dad be proud of her if she was blessed by the church? Or if not by the church, then at least by Dean? He did say he was ordained, whatever that meant.

    He shoved his dick deep into her mouth and she gagged again. Dean groaned. His dick throbbed between her lips and a burst of warm cum filled her mouth. Her eyes stretched open. His dick pulsed rapidly and his load puffed out her cheeks.

    “Swallow it baby. Swallow all of it,” Dean said.

    Marcie swallowed fast before any of his seed leaked out. Her face was warm. Would the others at church be able to tell just by looking at her that she had personally been blessed by Dean? But that wasn’t enough. She wanted the next part, she wanted to feel his dick in her pussy.

    From her knees, she stared up at him, milking the last of his juice from his dick with her cheeks and tongue, like an infant with a bottle. Globs of his stuff floated around her tongue. The taste was strong. His dick was softer, but still hard enough for what she needed.

    Dean brushed a few strands of hair from her face.

    “You’re a lucky one. God will see that you are protected now,” he said.

    He pulled her to her feet. His dick fell from her mouth. He pointed to her lip.

    “You missed a drop,” he said.

    Marcie quickly wiped it off her chin and sucked it off her finger.

    Dean’s hands slipped in the sides of her overalls bib and under her cut-off tank top. His eyebrows arched.

    “You’re not wearing a bra?” he said, with an uncertain wrinkle on his brow.

    Marcie shook her head. “No. It pinches. Is that bad?”

    His hands squeezed her soft mounds.

    “We’ll forget about it this time. The church would prefer that girls keep their bodies restrained, especially in public. It’s not wise to tempt young men.”

    Marcie nodded and told herself to remember that next time, but his thumbs were rubbing the tips of her nipples and it was hard to concentrate. She tilted her head up and let her lips part to kiss him, but he turned his head away.

    “Let’s take this off,” Dean said and tugged at the strap of her overalls.

    She unfastened the two clasps that held the bib over her chest. The straps slipped from her shoulders. With a shake of her hips, the overalls fell to the floor around her ankles, leaving her in only her pink cut-off tank top and tiny black panties. Dean stepped back and watched. She pulled the tank top off over her head, shook out her hair, and pushed her panties down to her ankles.
  4. jallen944

    jallen944 New Member

    Jan 7, 2005
    Likes Received:
    Part 4

    “Get on the bed. Let’s say a prayer together,” Dean said, and patted the mattress.

    Marcie climbed on the bed and kneeled at the edge, facing Dean. She laced her fingers together and bowed her head. Her hair hung over her face like drapes over a window. Dean began to speak a familiar prayer in a low voice. She recalled hearing his father recite that same prayer on Sunday mornings, but she never imagined it could have anything to do with getting fucked.

    Marcie’s eyes were not closed, but open to narrow slits. Behind the veil of her hair, she stared at Dean’s thing and smirked. It hung from the front of his slacks, growing stiffer every second. A drop of her saliva and his sperm dangled from the tip.

    “Amen,” Dean said when he finished the prayer.

    “Amen,” Marcie repeated in a soft voice. She reached up and closed her delicate fingers around his erection, where it hung from his slacks. Dean watched her hand move back and forth, his nostrils flaring with deep breaths. “Are you gonna love me now?” she said.

    Dean unbuttoned his shirt from the top down.

    “It’s God’s will. Lay on your back and spread your legs,” he said.

    Without releasing his dick, Marcie rolled on her back, her head on the pillow, and let her knees spread apart. She was breathing hard, too.

    Dean stripped off the rest of his clothes and stood over her beside the bed. She squeezed his dick harder while she pumped, like she was milking it. He closed his eyes and groaned softly, and his hips rocked with the motion of her hand.

    Dean bent over and touched her thigh. Marcie gasped. Her legs spread wider. She raised her head to watch his fingers inch toward the gentle curve of the mound between her legs, topped with a few wisps of dark hair. She flinched when he finally touched her. She was shaking, but what did she have to be nervous about? He touched her there before. Was it because this time he was going to touch her there with something other than his fingers? She grinned. That was it.

    Dean licked his middle finger and rubbed it over her slit. Marcie fought the urge to clench her thighs together on his hand. Her ass wiggled and rose off the bed, pushing her mound closer to his hand. His finger pushed between her lips.

    “Uhn ... please fuck me,” Marcie said with a soft groan.

    His finger pushed deeper, then he suddenly yanked it out. Marcie opened her eyes. Dean was staring down at her with a horrified face. She pulled on his thing, hoping to urge him between her legs, but he remained still.

    “What’s wrong?” she said.

    “I thought you were a virgin,” he said, spitting the words like they left a bad taste in his mouth.

    Marcie searched his eyes, trying to figure out what he meant.

    “I am. Don’t you wanna do it with me?” she said.

    Dean stood up straight and backed away from the bed, jerking his dick from her fingers.

    “If you’re a virgin where’s your cherry?” he said.

    Marcie trembled again, but with fear. Suddenly she understood what he meant. It was just like Sheila told her. The first time she had a dick in her pussy it busted her cherry. Sheila told her she would bleed the first time. What would Dean think of her? Would he tell his father? The truth might get her kicked out of the church.

    “How could you have sex with another man and come to me pretending to be a virgin?” he said.

    “But, I didn’t ...”

    “Don’t you understand, girl? I’ve been blessed by God. This body is a vessel for God’s work, and God doesn’t want me to put my dick where some other man’s dick has already been,” Dean said. He pulled up his pants.

    Marcie leaned up on her elbows.

    “You don’t want to fuck me?” she said.

    Dean grabbed her clothes and threw them at her.

    “No. I’ll go fuck Nicole. I know she’s a virgin. I think you should leave now, whore,” he said.

    Marcie pulled the tank top over her head and stepped into her overalls. Clutching the bib and her tiny panties to her chest, she glared at him.

    “I’m not a whore,” she said, and marched out of the apartment.

    On the way home, she stopped at the store to pick up the things on Mom’s list, and a candy bar for herself to clean the sour taste of Dean’s sperm from her mouth.
  5. jallen944

    jallen944 New Member

    Jan 7, 2005
    Likes Received:
    Part 5

    Marcie tied the sleeves of her sweatshirt around her waist and wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. The front of her pink halter top was marked with a narrow stain of perspiration that ran down between her breasts. Her hard nipples stuck through the thin fabric.

    She smiled. Sure, Dean told her she was supposed to wear a bra, but she hated them. Besides, she liked the feel of the fabric rubbing her nipples and the way they stuck out, and how her boobs jiggled without the tight bra. All the guys stopped to look at her, even older men like Dad’s friend Mr. Minver.

    She pushed off on her in-line skates, zipping down the sidewalk. Her sweatshirt bounced against her butt and the backs of her legs. Maybe she could get him to love her. She noticed lately how the front of his pants swelled when he was around her. He wasn’t fat, but his waist was a bit round and stuck out over his belt. How would it feel to hold him between her legs?

    She turned a corner, brushing her arm on a big bush, and passed a couple walking a dog. They were about as old as her parents. The man’s eyes dropped to her chest and his eyebrows arched. Marcie was smiling when she went past.

    Ahead on the right was the church. She was a long way from home. She slowed and let her skates glide over the cracks in the sidewalk. Did she mean to come that far? Was she hoping for a chance to see Dean again, maybe to convince him he was wrong about her? At the parking lot entrance she skated up toward the church.

    In the parking lot was a collection of cars. None was Dean’s black convertible. She skated twice around the entire lot to make sure. But one car in particular she did notice, Pastor Oliver’s little red Honda. She stopped beside it and peeked in, then looked back at the church.

    She skated to the side doors, but they were locked. She knocked and waited. No one came to let her in. It was just as well; they probably wouldn’t let her in with skates on.

    She skated around the building to the back of the gym. Those doors were locked, too. From the basement windows beneath the gym she saw some lights. She crouched on her hands and knees and peeked in the low window.

    Pastor Oliver was there, in the boxing ring with another guy, a younger skinny guy with a padded mask on his head. Marcie swallowed hard. Pastor Oliver’s chest was bare and he was covered with sweat. She had no idea he had such a lean, hard body. She felt a faint twitch between her legs.

    The door to the basement was down a set of cement stairs on the other side of the building. She went down carefully, take each step sideways, one at a time. She turned the knob slowly and it opened. She slipped in and let it shut.

    In the ring, Pastor Oliver was giving the younger guy instructions, and he just nodded back. They moved with their shoulders hunched and their gloved hands up, like it was an odd dance, then they threw punches at each other. Marcie gasped. Her eyes were wide. She sat on a bench to watch.

    Certainly, they were just practicing, but the violence of the fighting shocked her. Oliver stopped frequently to show the skinny guy how to stand or how to hold his hands. When they got back to hitting each other, though, her stomach jumped and her insides tingled. It was only a few minutes longer before they finished, but Marcie felt warm all over.

    They stepped out of the ring through the ropes. The skinny guy removed his padded mask before he disappeared through the doorway at the other end of the basement, but she didn’t see his face. Oliver was pulling at the ties on his gloves with his teeth when he saw her.

    “Hi Marcie. I didn’t notice you. How long have you been there?” he said and walked toward her.

    Suddenly Marcie couldn’t breathe. Something about Pastor Oliver was different. He was irresistible, even sexy.

    “Only a few minutes,” she said with a deep breath.

    She reached for his glove. Oliver hesitated a second and held out his arm. Marcie untied the laces slowly. Her fingers were shaking.

    “What brings you to the church on such a beautiful day Marcie?” he said.

    She shrugged. Her eyes were turned down, concentrating on the laces.

    “Just bored I guess. I thought I might find someone here to talk to.”

    She tugged the glove from his hand and held it against her belly. Oliver quickly removed the other glove, picked up a towel and wiped his face.

    “I’d be happy to talk. Anything in particular you want to talk about?”

    He put on a t-shirt. Instantly, it was soaked with sweat.

    “Nothing in particular.”

    “All right. Why don’t you sit down and we’ll talk. Do you want to take your skates off?” he said, pointing at her feet.

    Marcie sat on the bench and kicked her legs out. Her skates clicked together like she was making a wish to go home. Oliver sat beside her.

    “I think I’m in trouble, Pastor Oliver,” she said, staring at her skates.

    “What kind of trouble?”

    She raised the bottom of her shirt and rubbed her hand over the gentle bulge. Her rounded belly stuck out just a bit and stretched the waistband of her shorts.

    “I think I might be pregnant.”

    “Pregnant? Dear God Marcie, you’re just a child. How old are you now?”


    He touched her shoulder and she looked up into his eyes.

    “Have you seen a doctor?” he said.

    “No.” She let go of the shirt and it hid her belly again.

    “How did it happen?”

    She looked away from his eyes. “I just had sex with a ... boy.”

    “Marcie, you’re too young to be doing grown up things like that.”

    “I know. It’s just, you know, it felt good.”

    “Just because something makes you feel good doesn’t make it right,” he said.

    “Why not?”

    Oliver looked thoughtful for a moment.

    “Sometimes ... Sometimes the Devil makes wrong things feel good to us so we’ll do them against God’s wishes,” he said.

    “Oh. But it felt really, really good, you know what I mean?”

    Oliver shook his head. “No Marcie. Members of the church are not allowed to have sex.”

    Marcie blinked. “Not at all?”


    “So you’ve never done it?”

    “Never. But I don’t feel the pressure to have sex and I’m proud of myself,” he said.

    Marcie stared at him with her lips parted. That was the last thing she expected. She actually knew more about sex than him. How was that possible?

    “I liked one of the boys I did it with. I thought I might marry him one day,” Marcie said.

    “One of the boys? How many boys did you do this with?”

    Marcie shrugged. “Just a couple. Why? Is that bad?”

    Oliver put his hand on hers. His warm fingers touched her bare thigh and she felt a burning jolt through her body.

    “You poor dear. Who are these men who corrupted you?” he said.

    Marcie shook her head. “I don’t wanna say who it is.”

    Oliver did not speak. They were quiet for a long time, in the silent basement. She tried not to move in case he might remove his hand from hers.

    “What was he like?” Oliver said.

    Marcie looked up to his eyes again.

    “The one I really liked was tall and gorgeous and he was a great kisser. The one who got me pregnant though, he was like really huge.”

    Oliver looked confused and shook his head.

    “Huge? What do you mean?”

    Marcie blushed. “You know. His thing. It was really huge.”

    “His thing? Oh, you mean his ... Oh.”

    “Yeah, and it felt really good when he put it inside me, you know? I mean like really, really good. He was kinda rough, kinda forceful? It made me feel so stretched, made me feel so stuffed.”

    Marcie licked her lips. Her butt moved in small circles on the bench, trying to scratch the tingling between her legs. In her mind, she saw him behind her with his dick hanging between his legs, aimed at that tingly spot.

    Beside her, Oliver shifted on the bench. He cleared his throat. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was a man, she had no doubt of that. But if he never had sex, could he get turned on, too? His hands moved over his lap, but before they could cover his shorts, she saw he had a nice lump growing there.

    “When he put it inside you?” Oliver said.

    Marcie nodded, closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

    “He made me get on my hands and knees and pulled down my shorts then he got behind me and it hurt at first when he put it in you know because he was so big, then when it was inside me for a while it just felt so good.”

    Her hands moved back and forth on her bare thighs. Even with her eyes closed she could sense Oliver watching.

    “Was he older than you?” he said.

    “Yes, much older,” she said.

    “What about the other boy?”

    “He’s better looking and not much older than me and he’s a great kisser and his thing fits better in my mouth because it’s not as long, of course.”

    “He put his penis in your mouth?” Oliver said in a sharp voice.

    Marcie’s eyes opened. “Yeah. And when he spilled his seed I swallowed it. He wouldn’t let me spit it out. It’s ok though. I don’t mind the taste. His is kinda sweet.”

    “Marcie, I don’t believe God meant for little girls to put men’s private parts in their mouths.”

    She looked into his eyes, from one to the other.

    “But what if I want it in my mouth? What if I like it like that?”

    Oliver touched her cheek.

    “The church does not believe such behavior is normal for anyone, especially a child such as you,” he said.

    “But ... But, how can you say that when you don’t even know what it’s like?”

    “Marcie, I don’t have to be experienced in sex to know when it’s right and when it’s wrong,” he said with a soft smile.

    Marcie looked down at her skates again.

    “I’ve sucked on boy’s things and I got myself pregnant but I don’t know much about real sex either,” she said.

    Oliver sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t know what I can do to help you with that.”

    “You could show me.”

    “Show you what?”

    “You have a thing, don’t you?”

    “Well yes, but ...”

    “If you don’t want to I can show you,” Marcie said. She leaned close to him and pecked his mouth with her lips. “I can show you what sex is like. I know you’ll like it.”

    Oliver leaned back. Marcie put her hand on the lump in his shorts and her eyes grew wide. Oliver pushed against her shoulders.

    “We can’t do this. The church would say it’s wrong,” he said.

    “But Dean said it was all right when he wanted to fuck me.”

    “Dean Nowicki? You had sex with Dean Nowicki? Pastor Nowicki’s son?”

    Marcie looked at the floor again. Her face felt warm.

    “No. He wouldn’t do it with me when he found out I did it once with another guy. I did suck his dick a few times though, and he said I was blessed now, just like the virgin Mary, except I’m not really a virgin.”

    Her hand moved back and forth on the long, thick lump in his shorts. He pulled her wrist.
  6. jallen944

    jallen944 New Member

    Jan 7, 2005
    Likes Received:
    Part 6

    “Marcie stop this, stop this,” he said.

    She stared at his lap. The long ridge stuck out against his leg.

    “You’re really big, too, just like Sam-”

    “Sam? Who’s Sam?” Oliver said.

    “He’s the one who got me pregnant. You feel like you’re as big as him.”

    Oliver patted the back of her hand and shook his head.

    “You shouldn’t be doing this Marcie. You should go home and tell your parents what you’ve told me,” he said.

    “What, that I fucked a really fat dick and got pregnant? Oh yeah, my Dad will kill me for that.”

    “Yes, you should tell them. They deserve to know, but not like that,” he said.

    Marcie looked at her feet, rocking her skates side to side.

    “Would you like to?” she said.

    “Tell your parents? Certainly, if that would make you feel better.”

    “No. Would you like to love me? That would make me feel better,” she said.

    “Marcie, I can’t have sex with you, no matter how much I’d like to. The church doesn’t allow it, especially with children.”

    Marcie took her hand from his and rubbed the lump in his shorts again. Oliver’s mouth hung open and he stared at her hand.

    “But Dean told me I was blessed now because he came in my mouth and I swallowed it all, every last drop, and I’d really like it if you blessed me too, just like Dean did. I’ve been a bad girl. Don’t you want to save my soul? I’m sure the church would understand,” Marcie said.

    She squeezed the hard bulge and licked her lips. She was breathing hard and the tingling between her legs was driving her out of her mind. How much harder would she have to beg him to fuck her?

    “I really don’t think I can save your soul just by having sex with you,” Oliver said.

    “I do.”

    She stood up in front of him, holding his hands to steady herself on her skates. She leaned forward and put her hands on his shoulders. Her lips parted. Her head tilted to the side, but Oliver put his hands on her waist, pushed her back a bit and stood up. His fingers squeezed the bare flesh where her waist was exposed beneath her halter top.

    “Marcie, I won’t let you do this. I have sworn an oath to the sanctity of the church. I am immune to your seduct-” he started to say.

    Marcie moved his hand up under her halter top. His fingers closed over her bare breast as if on instinct. Oliver’s mouth snapped shut, sealing within the words he could not finish.

    “See, it feels good, doesn’t it?” Marcie said.

    She leaned forward again and kissed him. His lips were clamped together. She pressed against them with the tip of her tongue, but he resisted. His entire body was tense. Marcie squeezed his hard biceps and rubbed her tongue over his lips. His resistance gave in. His lips parted a crack and Marcie pushed the tip of her tongue into Oliver’s mouth. She searched for his tongue. He held it back like he was hiding it, but she found it anyway and when their tongues touched he groaned.

    Oliver’s hand massaged her breast. His other hand moved up under her halter and his thumb brushed her nipple. Marcie moaned in his mouth. Her knees felt weak and she squeezed his arms to hold herself up. She let herself move closer to him, so that their bodies touched. Through his shorts she felt the hard lump of his dick pressing into her belly. She wanted to get it out of his shorts and in her hands. Even better, she wanted his dick in her mouth.

    Marcie lowered herself to her knees in front of Oliver and tugged his shorts.

    “If you liked how that felt I think you’ll like this even better,” she said.

    Oliver was breathing hard. His shorts came down slowly, revealing first his dark pubic hair, then the shaft of his dick. Marcie’s mouth watered and she licked her lips. It was thick, thicker than she hoped to find. She tugged his shorts to his knees and it popped out in her face.

    “What are you going to do?” Oliver said. His hands were shaking.

    Marcie put her hand around the long, thick shaft and rubbed slowly.

    “Watch, you’ll see,” she said.

    She raised it and kissed the shaft. Oliver gasped. She flattened her tongue to the side down near his balls and licked all the way up to the head, cradling the fat, heavy thing in both of her small hands like a precious gift from her grandmother. He was trembling all over. Marcie turned his cock and did the same to the other side, licking slowly from the base to the head. She closed her mouth over the wide end, sucked in her cheeks and moaned softly.

    “Oh good Lord save me,” Oliver muttered, and put his hand on top of her head.

    Marcie paused a moment with the head of his cock between her teeth and turned her eyes up to see his hand. She smiled, as much as she could with her lips stretched open. She moved her head back and forth. The thick shaft stretched her jaw wide and pressed her tongue flat. She pushed it all the way to the back of her mouth, where it made her gag. He got his to go all the way down her throat to her belly, but how did he do that? Her heart was racing. She was going to try it.

    She took a deep breath and pushed it to the back of her mouth, as deep as she could stand. The wide, fat head started to push down her throat, but she couldn’t resist the gagging any longer and started coughing.

    “Are you trying to choke yourself, child?” Oliver said.

    Marcie looked up at him past the flared head of his long cock.

    “I just wanna try something. It’ll just take a second,” she said.

    “You shouldn’t do it if it’s going to hurt you. God wouldn’t want that.”

    Marcie sneered. “It’s not about what God wants.”

    She put his cock in her mouth again and moved her head back and forth, trying to take it deeper, but Oliver kept pulling away. Marcie sighed.

    “It would help if you pushed back,” she said. Her voice was low and raspy.

    Oliver’s head shook slowly.

    “I can’t believe what you’re asking me to do. I know what a man’s genitals are for and I’m sure it was not meant to go in a young girl’s mouth. I am sure this cannot be right.”

    “Then why haven’t you stopped me?” Marcie said.

    She was stroking his cock with one hand. Oliver had nothing to say and only frowned. Marcie smiled.

    “Trust me. I know you’ll like it, ok?” she said.

    Oliver had his hand on top of her head. His mouth was pinched and his brows were low. Marcie was sure he was going to change his mind and tell her to leave, but finally he nodded.

    “Ok. I don’t know what it is you’re trying to do but I’ll help if I can,” he said.

    “I wanna suck it down to my stomach.”

    “What? Your stomach?” Oliver said. But Marcie already had his cock in her mouth. “Are you trying to eat me whole?”

    Marcie mumbled around his cock. Her hand squeezed the shaft. What was it that made it work? Did it happen with him because he forced it on her? The head touched the back of her mouth and she resisted the urge to gag. Maybe if Oliver could ...

    She swallowed and suddenly the head was sliding down her throat. Oliver’s hips thrust forward, jamming it a few inches deeper. Marcie squealed. He groaned.

    “Oh my good Lord,” he said in a deep, low voice.

    His thick cock throbbed between her lips and spit a wad of warm cum. She gagged and swallowed again. Another inch or two slid down her throat. Oliver’s hands closed around the back of her head and pulled her closer, shoving the rest of his cock in. Her nose was buried in his mound of pubic hair. Above her he moaned and mumbled something. His cock continued to pulse and she could feel his stuff pouring down her throat.

    He held her face snug against his groin for a long time, rocking slowly with his hips. Marcie closed her eyes and waited, stroking his hard, hairy legs. What would Dean think if he saw her like that, with a real Pastor’s cock in her mouth, and all the way down her throat, too? Would he be able to see her neck bulging out? Would it make him jealous?

    Oliver’s hands finally let her up. She pulled back and his cock came out of her mouth slowly, an inch at a time. The head spilled a last drop of cum on her tongue before it fell free of her lips. Marcie stood up, balancing on her skates.

    “Now I’m doubly blessed,” she said, and wiped her mouth. Her face was warm and she was very moist between her legs.

    “What do you mean?” Oliver said.

    Marcie unbuttoned her shorts. “Do you wanna put it in my pussy now?”

    “Marcie, what are you talking about?”

    “If you’re worried, don’t be. I can’t get pregnant twice.”

    She turned around, pushed her shorts to her knees and bent forward. Oliver grabbed her shorts and yanked them back up. His hands were shaking.

    “Good heavens child, I think you’d better go home. I don’t know if God will forgive me for what I’ve done here,” he said.

    He was putting his cock back in his shorts. Marcie grabbed it before he pulled them up.

    “You know I always will,” she said.

    Oliver peeled her hand from his sticky shaft.

    “I think you should forget what we’ve done here,” he said.

    He touched her cheek briefly, then turned and walked out. The shape of his hard cock stuck out of his shorts. Marcie sighed and crossed her arms. How could he blow her off like that? Wasn’t she pretty? Didn’t he want to fuck her? She moved her tongue around in her mouth. At least she could still taste his cum.
  7. jallen944

    jallen944 New Member

    Jan 7, 2005
    Likes Received:
    Part 7

    Oliver buttoned the top button of his white shirt and picked up the collar, the white band to fit around his neck, but he could only look at it in his hand. Somehow, he didn't feel like he could wear it anymore. He put it down again, next to a thing he thought he would never in his life have any desire or need to purchase, a box of condoms. Why he bought them he couldn't say. He didn't even know how to use them. But he hoped to learn, and have a chance to use them for what they were designed.

    His heart pounded in his chest as he opened the box and removed one of the small, red packets. His penis stirred and grew stiff. It couldn't be that hard to figure out, could it?

    He looked at himself in the mirror, turning his face side to side. He never considered himself handsome, but Marcie seemed quite attracted to him. Was that true of other women as well? Was she attracted to him because he was handsome, or because of what he had in his pants? He sighed. Was that so bad?

    His penis stretched the front of his black slacks. He pulled the zipper down, reached in and pulled it out, letting it hang in the air, and stepped back to see it in the mirror.

    It was long, to be sure. There were many times since he was a young man that he experienced an erection, but never paid much attention. The Bible said a person should avoid the pleasures of the flesh. It was exactly those pleasures that Marcie exposed him to, and now the world was an entirely different place in his eyes.

    He closed his hand around his penis. It was hot and as hard as a piece of wood, and hung more than halfway to his knees. Before Marcie said she thought it was big he never considered that it might have a size, or that different men might have different sizes. Such concepts were completely foreign.

    He moved his hand slowly along its length and back. He closed his eyes and moaned. Certainly, he shouldn't think such things about her, but what other pleasures of the flesh were there to experience with a woman? When she put his penis in her mouth, that was the most exquisite-

    He heard a knock on his bedroom door and quickly stuffed his penis back into his slacks.

    "Yes?" he said.

    "Oliver, do you want butter or margarine for your pancakes?" Joann said.

    "Uh, butter will be fine."

    "All right. Don't be long. Your breakfast is getting cold."

    Oliver held his breath, waiting, then let it out and his shoulders slumped. A month ago it sounded like a good idea to invite his sister to visit. Now, however ...

    He held his hands over the front of his slacks, as if Joann might see through the door. His penis was still hard and hung down the leg of his slacks. Would she notice? He removed his hands, looked in the mirror and shook his head. How could she miss it?

    He waited as long as he dared, pacing the length of his room a few times, but it never went soft. Joann was going to be furious with him. She would know what was on his mind, would know that he was contemplating sex. Her parish was much stricter than his own, especially in matters of the flesh. He could only imagine how she would vilify him were she ever to learn of his sexual relations with an eighteen year old girl.

    He turned his eyes up to the ceiling. Usually, this was where he would cross himself and beg for guidance, but since his recent experiences, he began to feel there was nothing up there but the ceiling.

    Joann had the table set, stacked with pancakes and eggs and bacon, just as she piled the table every morning and every evening for dinner. Already, he was stuffed just looking at it. He was sure her cooking had put ten pounds on him in the short time she'd been there. If he kept eating like that, neither Marcie nor any woman would find him attractive, no matter the dimensions of the device hanging down his slacks.

    Joann was at the sink, rinsing a pan. When she turned around she had a big smile. Her dark hair was fixed in a bun and she wore her plain, round spectacles, and her white collar was fixed neatly around her neck.

    "Well sit, Oliver, sit," she said.

    He pulled out the chair. Her eyes glanced down at his crotch and her smile fell and she looked away quickly. She sat at the opposite side of the table, and her face was red.

    He put a little of everything on his plate. On his eggs he sprinkled some salt and pepper. On the pancakes he put butter and a bit of syrup. His penis was still hard and when he hoped Joann wasn't looking, he reached under the table and rubbed it through his slacks.

    Joann cleared her throat.

    "Oliver, you're not wearing your collar this morning. Have you decided it's too heavy?" she said. She cut each bite of her pancakes into neat squares.

    He put his fork down. "I, um, have decided to take a brief sabbatical from the church."

    "A sabbatical?"

    "Yes. I need some time to reevaluate my beliefs."

    "What happened?"

    "Nothing happened."

    They were quiet for a bit. She ate her pancakes in neat, square bites, then switched to the eggs. He could not bring himself to raise his fork again.

    "Aren't you hungry?" she said.

    "No, I-"

    "Is it a woman, Oliver?"

    His heart jumped up to his throat. "Excuse me?"

    "Is it a woman? Have you been tempted?"

    "Tempted?" He didn't know how to answer. He couldn't lie to his sister's face. "I recently met someone who was in trouble and I don't think I was much help."

    "Did you do everything you could?"

    "No, I don't think I did."

    How could he tell her that not only did he not help Marcie with her problem, he encouraged her in the practice that got her in trouble in the first place. When she attempted to swallow his penis he didn't try to stop her, but actually pushed it deeper.

    Joann refilled her glass of milk and put the pitcher down. She nodded, but looked troubled. She reached across the table and patted his hand.

    "I understand. God understands, too. Remember, God will always be there for you when you are ready to return."

    "Yes," Oliver said.

    Joann's smile was thin and her lips were pinched. He picked up his fork and dug into the scrambled eggs. If she knew what he was thinking, he wasn't so sure she or God would understand.

    He drove slowly to the church. The business he had to finish there he was not anxious to face. Besides, he had not yet figured out how he would tell Pastor Nowicki of his decision to take a sabbatical. He would have a fit, of course, but it would be nothing compared to how he would lose his mind if he found out his apprentice had his penis in the mouth of one of his eighteen year old parishioners.

    The door to his office was open. He went in and stopped in his tracks. Wendy was on her hands and knees on the floor in the middle of his office, her backside to the door. She was wearing a dark gray skirt with a slit at the side and was picking something out of the carpet. His eyes locked on her backside, especially the way the skirt was stretched and showed the lines of her panties underneath.

    Wendy looked back over her shoulder and smiled.

    "Oh hi, Pastor Oliver. I didn't know you were there," she said and pushed herself to her feet, holding a clear plastic box in the palm of her hand. "I'm afraid I knocked the paper clips off your desk. I'm really sorry."

    "Forget about it Wendy. It's nothing."

    She held out the paper clip holder and as he reached for it, he noticed the front of her blouse. A couple of the top buttons were open and he could see down inside. She had beautiful, large breasts squeezed into a black bra with a lacy fringe. Her curly, blonde hair was tied up in a bun at the back of her head and she had large glasses with thick frames that constantly slid down her nose and she constantly pushed back up.

    "I'm really, really sorry. I just came in to put the list for next week's bake sale on your desk," she said.

    She turned to point to the sheets of paper on his desk and he noticed the beautiful line of her jaw and her long, graceful neck. He felt his penis stir in his pants again. How many years had Wendy been a volunteer at the church and he never noticed her before?

    "It's all right," he said, and put the paper clip holder on his desk.

    "I guess I hit it with my elbow. I'm such a klutz," Wendy said.

    She crouched to pick up a stray paper clip and as she rose again he saw her breasts jiggling under her blouse. She smiled, but he turned away. He could not even look at her smile without wondering how those full lips would look around his penis, or how it would feel to slide it between them into her mouth.

    "Thank you, um, for the, um, the list."

    "You're welcome." She clasped her hands together in front of her and rose on the balls of her feet once, which squeezed her breasts together between her arms and made them shake. Oliver coughed.

    "Well, I guess I'll get back to work," she said and pointed to the door.

    "Uh, Wendy. Maybe later, if you're not busy, maybe you'd like to get a cup of coffee with me," he said.

    She paused, looking at him, framed in the doorway. Behind the large lenses, her eyes glanced left, then right.

    "Ok, sure, I guess."

    "Good. Ok."

    She turned to walk out and his eyes dropped to her backside once again. It jiggled under her tight skirt with each step. He swallowed hard and rolled his eyes shut. He went around his desk and fell into his chair.

    Good Lord. Wendy was what, nineteen? She was in college, of that he was certain. But was she attracted to him? He was certainly attracted to her, like he never thought he could be attracted to a woman. He reached under the desk, rubbed his erection and groaned. But how would she react if she saw his penis? Would she be shocked, like Marcie? Would she say the things about it that Marcie said? In his mind, he saw Marcie holding it to her lips, licking the end, then he saw Wendy in Marcie's place, her full lips stretching open, and he shook his head.

    There was only one thing he could do. He had to make amends to Marcie. He couldn't live with himself for what he did to her. Later, when he was with Wendy ... Well, that would be different. But poor Marcie had to know the truth. He got up, went out and shut his office door.

    At the end of the hall, Pastor Nowicki came around the corner and walked right toward him, wearing that wide grin that never left his face. Oliver hesitated. He grabbed the doorknob to go back into his office, but it was too late. Pastor Nowicki would find him no matter where he tried to hide.

    "Pastor Oliver, how are you this fine day?" Pastor Nowicki said. He grabbed Oliver's right hand in both of his and pumped like he was trying to draw water from a well.

    "Fine Pastor Nowicki. How are you?"

    "Great, just great, God bless us all. Listen, Oliver, I hope you haven't forgotten about that meeting this afternoon. You agreed to speak to the girls."

    "Meeting? I'm afraid I ..."

    "The teen pregnancy meeting?" Pastor Nowicki said, his hands on his hips.

    "Oh yeah, that meeting. Is that today?" Oliver said. He felt like he was sweating through his clothes.

    "Yes, three o'clock this afternoon. Don't be late. Those girls are counting on you," Pastor Nowicki said as he walked away.

    Oliver let out a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead. That was close. He walked out to his car. Without a doubt, he would be back well before three o'clock. What he had to do should only take a few minutes, if Marcie could find it in her heart to forgive him.

    His penis grew hard again on the short drive to her house. The more he thought about her, the harder it got. He ground his teeth and shifted in his seat so that his penis could stretch down the leg of his slacks. How could he allow himself to get aroused by thinking about an eighteen year old girl? What kind of man was he?

    It was still hard when he parked his red Honda in the street in front of her house. He waited a few minutes to try to make his penis go soft, but it was no use. He would never get over his desire for Marcie until he confronted her and made his amends. Only then could he get on with his life and rediscover his position in the church.

    Holding his hands together in front of him to attempt to hide the obvious bulge in the leg of his slacks, he walked up to the front door and pushed the doorbell button. Marcie's father opened the door and Oliver groaned silently when he saw the smile on the man's face.

    "Pastor Oliver. What a surprise. What can I do for you today?" he said.

    Oliver opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. What could he say to the man? That he wanted to apologize to his daughter for taking advantage of her, for making her take his penis in her mouth? No, that wouldn't be a good idea. He would kill him where he stood on his front porch.

    "Um, I was hoping Marcie would be here."

    "Sure, she's home. What's up?"

    Oliver hesitated again with his mouth open to speak. As the words came out, he couldn't believe he was actually saying them.

    "The church is sponsoring a discussion about teen pregnancy. I will be leading the discussion. I thought Marcie might want to take part," he said, and cringed. He wouldn't actually believe that, would he?

    But Marcie's father looked like he was contemplating the suggestion.

    "She just might. I'll let you ask her yourself. Come on in. She's in the back."

    He left the door open. Oliver rolled his eyes and followed. They went through the house to the back yard. Marcie was in the lush grass beneath a tree with dark red leaves, playing with a small brown puppy dog. She was wearing soccer shorts and a white, cut-off sports top, and was on her hands and knees, her back end toward the house. The moment Oliver saw her, his erection twitched in his slacks. He covered it with his hands and swallowed hard. This was going to be more difficult than he thought.

    "Marcie, honey, Pastor Oliver's here to see you," her father said.

    She sat up with her legs under her, smiled and waved. She picked up the puppy and walked up to the back porch. She looked much different from the last time he saw her. Her chest was much larger. Her entire body had filled out, like that of a grown woman. When she came up the steps, her round breasts bounced. Oliver closed his eyes and shook his head. He had to remind himself that this woman-child was only eighteen years old.
  8. jallen944

    jallen944 New Member

    Jan 7, 2005
    Likes Received:
    Part 8

    "Hi Pastor Oliver. Did I miss church or something?" Marcie said.

    "No, no, I just wanted to talk to you."

    "Listen, I gotta get back to work or I'm not getting dinner tonight," her father said, and went back inside.

    Oliver scratched the puppy on its head.

    "That's a cute puppy. When did you get him?" Oliver said.

    Marcie looked away. Her feet shifted like she was nervous.

    "About a week ago," she said.

    Oliver looked from the puppy to Marcie's face.

    "It seems odd, but he sort of looks like you," he said. Marcie blushed. "I think I've decided to leave the church for a while. I have a few things to work out."


    Oliver looked around to make sure her father wasn't listening at a window. He lowered his voice to a whisper.

    "Can you ever forgive me for what I did to you?" he said.

    "Forgive you? How can I forgive you?" she said.

    He nodded. "I understand."

    "No, I don't think you do understand."

    "Excuse me?"

    "You don't get it, do you?" Marcie said, with an angry tone to her voice.

    "You're angry. What did I do?"

    She frowned. "You didn't do anything. That's what I'm mad about."

    "Marcie, I ... I don't know what to say."

    "You could say you like me, that's a start," she said.

    Oliver touched her shoulder. "But Marcie, I do like you."

    When she spoke, her voice was a fierce whisper.

    "Then why don't you want to fuck me? That's what I'm waiting for."

    He chuckled, but could see that she was serious, and suddenly felt very sober.

    "Marcie, that's the whole problem right there."

    She looked confused. "Why is that a problem?"

    Oliver looked down at the stained wooden planks under his feet, searching for an answer. It was so obvious. Why couldn't he find the words?

    "Jesus Marcie, I could be a dead man. Your father would kill me if he knew I had my hands on you."

    She shifted the puppy to her other arm. It pressed its head to her soft breast.

    "No one has to know."

    "But I know, you see? I know now something that I didn't know when I devoted myself to God, something I wasn't supposed to know and now ... now I don't know."

    "Don't know what?"

    Oliver sighed. Did he come here to make a confession or to apologize to her?

    "I don't know if I can continue in the church after what I've learned, after what you've taught me about, well, about how much more there is in life. I need to find out more."

    "More about what?" she said.

    He lowered his voice again. "More about sex. You've opened up a whole new world for me."

    "I did, didn't I?" She grinned and bit her lower lip. "Would you like to come up to my room? I'd like to show you something my Grandma gave me, something that reminds me of God when I'm not sure."


    She left the puppy in a box lined with old towels and they went upstairs to her room. The walls were covered with posters and pictures of boy bands and cute young actors, and she had a dresser with a big mirror and a chair, and her bed was covered with a purple blanket. From a wooden box on the dresser she got a gold crucifix.

    "This is it. My Grandma gave it to me. When I'm not sure, I hold this, then I know," she said.

    "It's nice."

    Oliver held it by the chain and let the cross spin. It sparkled in the light. For him, though, it no longer held the same comforting feelings. He put the crucifix back in her hand.

    "Sometimes when I'm lonely I come up here to cry so no one can hear me," Marcie said. She fixed the chain around her neck and dropped the crucifix under the front of her cut-off top. "Pastor Oliver?"


    "Will you kiss me?"

    "I can't, Marcie. You're too young. It's not right for you. It's too much of a risk for me.

    She sighed. Her arms hung at her sides. Her lips were puffy and slightly parted. Her eyes looked down at the floor.

    "Ok. Goodbye then."

    "Goodbye," Oliver said.

    They stood facing each other. Her wide eyes rose from the floor and looked into his. For just an instant she was no longer a child but a grown woman, and since the last time he saw her when she was on her knees in front of him with both hands on his penis, he wanted her, couldn't stand not having her.

    He grabbed her wrist and dragged her to him. She yelped in surprise, then his mouth covered hers. Her lips opened and he plunged his tongue into her mouth, and she was moaning. Her arm was limp in his hand. He slipped his other hand around her slender waist and pulled her against him. His hand moved down her back and squeezed her ass.

    Marcie rubbed herself on the hard lump in his slacks. She parted her knees so the hard ridge of his erection pressed directly against her warm crotch. Oliver pulled his lips away. A thin string of saliva stretched the gap between their lips. She was panting and her mouth hung open. Her eyelids fluttered open and she looked into his eyes.

    "Oliver?" she said, her voice a hoarse whisper.


    "I have something else to show you. Would you like to see it?"

    "What is it?"

    She reached around and pulled his hand off her ass.

    "What are you doing?"

    "Just this," Marcie said.

    She slipped his hand under the elastic waistband of her soccer shorts and her panties. He tried to resist, but she held his arm with both hands and pushed it down. He was holding his breath. They stared into each other's eyes. The tips of his fingers brushed through the few wispy hairs on her mound. His fingers touched her moist pussy lips and pushed into her slit.

    "Oh God ... Oh God," she said. Her eyes closed and her lower lip quivered.

    Oliver watched her face. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with his hand on a woman's private parts. But he was breathing hard himself and his heart was pounding in his chest like it was going to burst. He pushed his middle finger inside her. She moaned and he felt a roaring in his ears. His penis throbbed and ached, and was so hard he was sure it would rip through his good slacks.
  9. jallen944

    jallen944 New Member

    Jan 7, 2005
    Likes Received:
    Part 9

    He rubbed his finger over her moist slit. Marcie flinched. He touched the same spot. She flinched again and squealed and buried her face against his shoulder. He pressed the tip of his middle finger harder to that spot. Her entire body bucked against his. She squeezed his wrist and screamed into the folds of his jacket. He continued to rub that spot until her writhing and her muffled screams stopped. When she finally lifted her face from his shoulder she was smiling and her face glowed.

    "Wow. That really felt good," she said.

    "I'm pleased," Oliver said, and returned her smile. He hoped that she couldn't see through it, that she couldn't see that he had no idea it was possible to get such a reaction from a woman just by touching her with one finger.

    Marcie sat down on the edge of her bed. His hand came out of her shorts and his fingers were wet with her juices. Her eyes looked down at his groin and grew wide. The pink tip of her tongue licked her lips. She reached up and rubbed his erection against his leg.

    "You're really hard," she said with a sigh.


    "I wanna suck your dick again. Can I do that?"

    Her hand unzipped his fly and reached into his slacks before he knew what she was doing. He grabbed her wrist, but his penis tingled where her fingers touched it, and his head spun. He pulled her hand out.

    "Marcie ..." he started.

    "What? I want you to fuck me, right here on my bed," she said, patting the purple blanket.

    "Marcie, I didn't come here to fu- To seduce you. I came here to apologize."

    "You can apologize later, after you fuck me," she said, and giggled.

    Oliver swallowed. She was right. It was too late to make apologies. He shook his head. What was happening? He couldn't think straight. It was as if the throbbing, painfully hard device in his slacks was making decisions for him. Marcie leaned back on her arms. Her soccer shorts were stretched tight over the gentle mound between her legs, and her hard nipples poked through the thin halter top. He closed his eyes.

    "We can't do this in your room. Your father will hear," he said.

    "Where can we go?"

    "I don't know," Oliver said. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, afraid that if he looked at her once more, he could not prevent himself from ravishing her right there.

    "You can take me for a ride in your car," Marcie said.

    His eyes opened. Of course. They could go back to his apartment. If his sister was out, they might have enough time to ... Dear God, he couldn't believe he was even thinking something like that.

    "Ok. Let's go for a ride. What are we gonna tell your father?"

    She shrugged and hopped off the bed.

    "I don't know. I'll think of something," she said.

    She did. She told her father that Oliver was taking her to the church. All he said was to be back in time for dinner and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. Covering the erection in his pants with his hands, Oliver managed to force a smile, but in his stomach he felt sick.
  10. jallen944

    jallen944 New Member

    Jan 7, 2005
    Likes Received:
    Part 10

    In the car, he patted Marcie's bare knee. When he put the car in gear and drove away from the house, she reached across and rubbed his penis. He shook his head, certain that for what he was about to do he was going to hell.

    Marcie walked ahead of him into his apartment when he opened the door. Oliver held his breath. His heart was in his throat. What was he going to tell Joann if she was there, that he brought a girl home to commit carnal acts with her? That would go over well.

    But Joann wasn't home, and he let his breath out. What time she was going to get home he didn't know, but he hoped that for what he and Marcie planned to do they had enough time to finish before she did.

    She stood in the center of the apartment, looking around.

    "It's nice," she said.

    "Thank you." He tossed his keys on the counter bar.

    "I hope I have a place like this one day."

    "Well, you can't have this one. I'm still using it," he said, and she smiled. He put his hands in his pockets. "What should we do?"

    She shrugged. "You could show me your bedroom."

    "Just like that? We just go to the bedroom and that's it?"

    "I guess. What else is there?"

    He scratched his head. "I don't know. I guess I imagined there would be something more romantic involved."

    Her fingers tugged at the bottom of her cut-off top, pulling it tight over her hard nipples. "You could make me dinner."

    "Your father said he wanted you home for dinner. It wouldn't be very good if I spoiled your dinner, would it?"

    "Maybe if we worked at it hard enough I would be hungry enough for two dinners."

    They both chuckled at the joke. He reached up and touched her cheek. Her skin was soft and delicate, like the flesh of a rose petal. Her face turned up and her lips parted. He bent forward and kissed those lips. She moaned. Her hands rested on his chest. He pulled his shirt out of his slacks and unbuttoned it all the way down the front. She reached inside and pressed her palms to his bare chest.

    "I love your body," she said.

    He put his hands on her hips and pulled her firmly against him, rubbing the lump of his erection against her belly.

    "Yes. I love your body as well."

    Marcie lifted his hand. "Take me to the bedroom now. I'm ready."

    She was smiling as he led her into his bedroom, and her cheeks were glowing. She plopped herself on the corner of his bed and bounced a couple of times.

    "It's a good bed, a good big bed. I bet you've had sex with a lot of girls on this bed," she said.

    "I've never had sex," he said. He searched the top of the dresser. Where did he put those condoms?


    "No, never. The church doesn't allow it."

    "But Pastor Nowicki has a wife and a son. He has sex, doesn't he?"

    "His situation is different," he said. He looked through each drawer of the dresser.

    "I think you should be allowed to have sex too, whenever you want."

    He turned to her, his hands on his hips, ready to correct her, but his argument vanished in the air and his mind blanked. Here was a sight before him he never expected to see: Marcie was laying on her back on his bed with her knees bent and spread, presenting herself to him.

    "Oliver? I wanna be your first," she said in a tiny voice that was suddenly that of a little girl again.

    He swallowed. Never in his life had he seen a sight as beautiful as this little girl ready to copulate. And she chose him.

    He walked to the bed on shaking knees. Her eyes followed him. The tip of her tongue poked between her puffy lips. Her legs parted wider, as if in invitation. He moved between them and put his hands on her knees. Marcie hooked her heels around the backs of his legs. Oliver leaned over her, pressing his hands into the mattress to either side.

    "What do you want me to do?" she said.

    "Kiss me."

    Her eyes closed and her lips parted. He closed his own eyes and kissed her softly. His weight bent her legs back and forced the hard ridge of his penis against her warm mound. Her hips moved and her hands came up to touch his arms. He pressed his groin harder against her crotch and groaned. In his experience, nothing ever felt so good. Was this what the Bible meant when it spoke of the pleasures of the flesh?

    "Oliver?" she whispered in his ear.


    "I wanna suck on your dick first, before you put it in my pussy, ok?"

    "Yes, that's all right, I suppose," he said.

    The door opened. They both turned to look. It was Joann, with one hand on the doorknob, her mouth hanging open.

    "Sweet Jesus, Oliver, what do you think you're doing?" she said.

    He fought for something to say, but nothing came out. Joann turned and walked away, leaving the door open.

    "Joann, wait," he shouted, and pried himself from between Marcie's legs.

    Joann was in the middle of the living room, her hands on her hips.

    "Joann, listen ..." he started.

    Her face was black. She pointed to the bedroom with her finger like it was a dagger.

    "How could you do this to me? How could you do it to yourself, Oliver? You are violating your oaths to the church."

    "I ... I ..."

    "You should be ashamed of yourself, taking advantage of a girl like that. You should be thankful I don't call the police. I should at least call Pastor Nowicki."

    "Joann, listen please ..."

    "I should have realized something this morning when I saw that you were aroused," she said, pointing to his crotch. She stared for a second until he covered the hard bulge with his hands. She pulled his box of condoms from her pocket. "I found these on your dresser. Imagine how naive I feel to think you only had them to help someone else. Now I know you planned to use them for yourself."

    "What were you doing going through my room?"

    "I think that is irrelevant right now, considering you were about to have sex with a girl. It's a good thing I stopped you," she said. Her voice was a shriek and her eyes blazed.

    "Joann, I'll have sex if I want to."

    "With that kind of attitude, I think you are not fit to lead a church," she said.

    "I'm not sure the church is fit to lead anyone," Oliver said.

    They stared at each other silently for a long time. Finally, she put the box of condoms in his hand.

    "I'll be leaving in the morning," she said.

    "I think that would be best."

    Joann walked straight to the door and slammed it shut behind her. Oliver let out a deep sigh and turned to his bedroom. Marcie was sitting on the edge of his bed, her elbows on her knees and her chin on her palms.

    "Did I get you in trouble?" she said.


    "I'm sorry."

    "For what?"

    "If I did. If I got you in trouble."

    "I suppose if I've got myself in trouble I deserve it."

    She leaned back on her arms and smiled. Her cut-off white top was stretched between her plump breasts and her hard nipples showed through the fabric. She rubbed the inside of his thigh with her calf.

    "You know, if you're gonna get in trouble it might as well be for something good," she said.

    His penis throbbed in his pants, especially when her leg touched it. He looked at the red box in his hand and threw it on the dresser.

    "We'd better get going," he said, and held his hand out.

    Shee put her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet.


    "It's getting late. We have to get to the church," he said.
  11. bluenavigator

    bluenavigator New Member

    Jun 14, 2006
    Likes Received:
    Wow, it is so good story, in fact, it made me horny in the car as I read the story on my pda.... what happens next? I am damn curious!
  12. jallen944

    jallen944 New Member

    Jan 7, 2005
    Likes Received:
    Part 11

    He unlocked his office. Marcie walked in behind him, her hands clasped behind her back, looking left and right.

    "I didn't know you had an office," she said.

    "Yes. It's all mine."

    "It's nice." She paused and looked back at the door. "I'm gonna use the bathroom."


    He stood by his desk, his arms at his sides, looking around the office himself. What was he supposed to do with this place? When he moved in it all made sense, but anymore he could not see the purpose.

    Someone knocked and he turned to the door.

    "Ah, Pastor Oliver, you're here. I've been looking for you," Pastor Nowicki said.

    "What can I do for you?"

    Pastor Nowicki walked into the office with his fingers laced together and a frown on his lips, looking down at the floor.

    "I just spoke with your sister, Oliver, and frankly I'm very upset by what she's told me," he said.

    "What did she tell you?" Oliver leaned against the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. Would Joann tell him about catching him with a girl?

    "She told me she suspects you have been ... fraternizing with a woman. Is this true?"

    "I'm afraid it is."

    Pastor Nowicki was shaking his head, still frowning.

    "This news troubles me deeply. I realize you and I differ somewhat in our philosophies, but you have taken vows for your position in the church."

    "I've been having second thoughts about those vows."

    Pastor Nowicki stared at him. "Yes, well, we can't have doubts about our faith. You especially, Oliver. I've been reviewing your request for a sabbatical. I think now I understand why you made that request. I've decided to grant it. In fact, it's approved immediately. You need to take some time to focus your commitment to the church. I cannot afford to entrust this church to someone who is only half committed to the work that needs to be done."

    "I understand," Oliver said. Over Pastor Nowicki's shoulder, he saw Marcie peeking in around the door frame. Her brown eyes were wide. Then she disappeared.

    "I hope you do. This is a very serious matter," Pastor Nowicki said. "As for today, I don't want you to talk to the girls in the pregnancy prevention group. It wouldn't be appropriate, under the circumstances. I'll talk to them myself."

    "Yes, Pastor Nowicki."

    He gave a succinct nod and turned to the door.

    "Make sure you pack whatever you're going to need, Oliver. Your trip will probably be extended. Have you thought about where you want to go?" Pastor Nowicki said, and stopped in the doorway.

    "Maybe Arizona, or New Mexico. The Spanish found a lot of things holy about the desert."

    Pastor Nowicki nodded. "Let me know what you decide. I know a monastery outside Santa Fe. You should talk to the monks. They know a thing or two about abstinence."

    He turned and was gone. Oliver sat down behind his desk with a deep sigh. It wasn't supposed to work that way. When he left the seminary college his path was so clear. Looking back, he could not even see what path he was on. But had he made a mistake with Marcie? He frowned. Nowhere could he find within himself a feeling of regret for what he had done to his life or his career, no feeling of regret for where he was now. His only regret was that he hadn't yet experienced the complete joy of a woman.

    "Pastor Oliver?" Marcie said.

    He looked up. She was at the door, leaning against the outside of the door frame.

    "Marcie, why aren't you with the other girls in the pregnancy prevention group?"

    She snickered. "It's a little too late for me, don't you think?"

    They were quiet, not looking at each other. The office was silent except for the soft whisper of cool, air-conditioned air from the vent.

    "I have to pack for a trip. I should probably take you home," Oliver said.

    "You can take me home after."

    "After what?"

    "Do I have to tell you?"

    "After all this, you still want to ..."

    "I'm still waiting for it."

    He looked around the office. "Right here?"

    "What's wrong with right here?"

    "We're in a church."

    She shrugged. "I don't care. Do you care?"

    He could only stare at her face. She had high cheeks and big brown eyes and her skin was flawless. He should pity her. The church would tell him she was defiled and her soul needed to be saved. Her soul, however, was already free. His was the one that needed saving.

    He got up and locked the office door. She watched him. He came back and sat down again, and put his hands on her bare knees.

    "No, I don't care," he said.

    Her lips curled into a thin smile. She glanced down at his hands. His fingers pressed into her soft flesh and moved up her thighs until the tips poked under the bottom edge of her nylon shorts. Marcie bit her lower lip.

    "What are you doing?" she said. Her voice was just a whisper.

    "I don't really know."

    She giggled. She was trembling. His hands moved up to the sides of her white halter top, under her arms. His thumbs brushed the soft sides of her breasts. Beneath the taut, white fabric, her nipples were hard points. She stared into his eyes, licking her lips with the tip of her tongue.

    He hooked his thumbs under the bottom edge of the halter top and pulled it over Marcie's breasts. Her nipples were round and pink and stuck out like miniature domes. He rubbed his thumbs over their tips. She sucked in a deep breath. Her eyes closed and she moaned softly behind her closed lips.

    The gold crucifix dangled between her round breasts. He hesitated, but on her innocent face was the most salacious look of desire. How could he deny her? He leaned closer and licked one of her nipples. She moaned again and pushed her chest out. He twirled his tongue around the tip, sucked it between her lips, then switched to her other nipple and did the same thing. She put her hand on top of his head.


    He pulled his face away from her chest. "Yes?"

    "Do you wanna eat me?"

    "Eat you?"

    "Yeah, you know, eat my pussy?"

    He glanced down between her legs, but still, he was confused. Marcie wiggled her shorts and panties down her legs to her feet. The nylon shorts dropped to the floor. Her panties dangled from one shoe. She leaned back on her arms and spread her legs.

    "You can try it on me if you like," she said.

    He blinked. Once or twice when he was younger he tried to imagine a woman's private parts. He had a general idea how they worked, but the appearance he had in his mind from so many years ago was nothing like what he saw for the first time.

    He blinked again. She had barely a few wisps of faint hair on her mound. It was puffy and red, and split down the middle with a crease. The idea was simple, of course. His penis went in there somewhere. However, it looked like a complexity of folded layers of soft flesh.

    "What do I do?" Oliver said. He was breathing hard.

    "Lick me. Right here," she said, and touched the center of her tiny slit. Her fingers spread her lips and exposed a moist, pink area within.

    He leaned down and inhaled. She had a sweet, musty aroma that was arousing. His penis throbbed in his pants. He closed his eyes, poked out his tongue and licked, right between her fingers. She gasped. He opened his eyes. That wasn't so bad. He licked her again.

    "Oh yes. Oh Oliver," Marcie said with a sigh.

    Her folds of flesh were soft and warm between his fingers. They peeled apart easily, like the delicate flesh of a fruit and revealed a hole, an access into her body. But the hole was so tiny, barely the diameter of his finger. Honestly, how could a man expect to fit his penis inside that?

    He licked again, running his tongue slowly up and down her groove. Was that what he was supposed to do? Marcie apparently liked it. She lay back on top of his desk, moaning, and knocked over the pen holder and a framed picture of his sister.

    She whimpered and her back arched off the desk like a bridge when his tongue touched a certain spot. The more he licked there, the more she moaned. Her body twisted like she was tormented from within by demons. Her right hand clawed at the desk top. Her left hand pulled at the hair on his head and her legs hung over his shoulders and squeezed his head. He held her slender hips and licked as hard as he could, rubbing his tongue over that spot that got so much reaction out of her, but also pushing it deep into her moist, pink spot.

    The poor girl was practically screaming. At any moment, someone walking by outside might stop to see what was happening, but he didn't care. Pastor Nowicki might think he was hurting the girl. He knew better. She was enjoying what she was receiving as much as he enjoyed giving it to her. When she did this same to him those months ago in the basement, he was the one who received the pleasure, but did she receive it as well?

    Marcie's squeals dissipated to faint gasps. The back of her hand covered her mouth. Her entire body tensed and flexed several times, then she was suddenly limp, and he was left with a mouthful of warm, salty fluid from within her body.

    Oliver continued to lick her slit, but it appeared the demons that tormented the poor girl had gone. Had he made her feel an orgasm, that same ecstasy she provided for him? Her sweet face was flushed. Her eyes opened slowly and she smiled.

    "That was pretty awesome," she said.

    "You liked it then?"

    "Yeah, I liked it a lot."

    "Good. Let's see how you like this," Oliver said.

    He stood upright. Her legs were spread wide to either side. She leaned up on her elbows. He dropped his slacks to the floor and her eyes bulged.

    "Oh baby," she muttered, staring at his groin.

    The end of his cock stretched out and touched the soft, pale flesh of her belly. Oliver crossed himself. Marcie watched and crossed herself, too.

    He was panting, and stared down at his penis and her warm, moist opening. What was he supposed to do now? He understood how it worked, but only in theory. Was he supposed to put it inside her himself? She was watching his face, waiting for what he would do next.

    Of course she was waiting. It was what she wanted, as much as him. He touched the tip of his penis to her pink opening. Marcie flinched. This was the hard part. Somehow, he had to make that thick thing fit inside her constricted opening. He could not see how that would happen without causing her some pain. And causing any pain to such a pretty, delicate girl was a thing he didn't think he could do.

    But he pushed anyway. The tip pierced her soft folds. Marcie bit her lower lip. He held her hips and pushed firmly. The entire head disappeared inside her, and with it an inch or so of the shaft. She groaned and squeezed his forearms. He paused to take in the sight. This was it. His penis was finally within the forbidden regions of a woman, and the feeling, well, there was nothing he had experienced like it. He could only describe it as ... tremendous.

    But her eyes were squeezed shut, and her teeth were clenched and bared. He gave a gentle push and she winced. It was true, he was hurting her. Why didn't she stop him? Did she have some misguided belief that this was something she had to do? He shook his head. Only a few inches of his penis had made their way inside her. He couldn't continue. He didn't have the heart to defile an innocent girl. He pulled back.

    "No," Marcie said, and reached for his retreating penis. It slid through her fingers like a rope.

    Oliver fell into his chair, slumped low. His rigid penis drooped to the side.

    "Oliver, what's wrong?" she said, and sat up.

    He shrugged. "I can't do this, Marcie. I'm almost twice your age. It's not right." He sat forward and reached down for his slacks.

    She hopped off the desk and put her hand on his shoulder. He looked up to her eyes and saw something in them, a determination, a desire he had not noticed, but it was the same look in her eyes when she came to him the first time in the basement.

    "I'm not gonna let you get away that easy."

    The right side of her mouth smirked. She pushed against his shoulder and he fell backward in the chair again. His penis stood straight up. Along its length were wide, purple veins that pulsed, and its deep, red color was alarming.

    She lifted a long, slender leg over his knee, straddling his legs. Her small hand closed around the middle of his long shaft, and this time he was the one who flinched. She leaned forward, holding his penis way down between her legs. Her breasts and the crucifix dangled in his face. His hands were locked on the arms of the chair. Marcie bit her lower lip, and when she found her moist opening with the head of his penis, she winced.

    "Be careful Marcie, don't hurt yourself," he said. He put his hands around her waist.
  13. Miki

    Miki Banned

    Jun 30, 2006
    Likes Received:
    Algoma, ON
    This is quite interesting...
  14. Lusty Dreams

    Lusty Dreams New Member

    Jul 10, 2006
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    When is this story going to be finished! I really like it so far!!!
  15. jallen944

    jallen944 New Member

    Jan 7, 2005
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    Part 12

    She put one hand on his shoulder and let herself sink a few inches. The end of his penis penetrated her soft lips. She groaned and closed her eyes and lowered herself further until his penis was all the way up inside her and her weight was settled on his lap.

    She was still, breathing through her mouth, her eyes still closed, her face mere inches from his. He was breathing hard as well. Her young body was wet and tight, enveloping his entire penis. Finally, her eyes blinked a few times and opened, and she smiled.

    "It doesn't hurt," she said in a soft voice that cracked.

    "I'm glad."

    "Were you afraid?"


    She giggled. "You're so silly."

    "I know. What do we do now?"

    "Are you serious? You fuck me now."

    "Ah yes, of course."

    She leaned back. The chair was close to the desk. She leaned on its edge with her elbows, and her back made a sort of bridge between the desk and the chair, with their two bodies tied together at the middle.

    "Go ahead and fuck me Oliver," she said and licked her lips.

    Her hips moved up and down slowly. Her eyes were locked on his. He watched her writhing on his lap without moving himself. Her breasts swayed and shook and between them, the gold crucifix bounced against her chest. Between her spread legs, his penis was a thick red snake burrowing into her body.

    This was what it was all about. This was what he wanted more than anything. So many years of his life wasted when he could have been doing this with so many other women.

    His hands moved from the arms of the chair to Marcie's thighs. She was rocking her hips and breathing through her open mouth. He slid his hands up her thighs to her waist, held tight and pushed up with his own hips. A few inches of his penis slipped deeper into her body. She tiled her head back and groaned.

    "Oh God, finally, thank you," she said in a low voice.

    "Excuse me?"

    She raised her head. "Oh, nothing. That feels really good."

    "Yes, it does."

    He let his hips rise and fall slowly. Her hips moved with his, and churned slowly side to side at the same time. His penis moved in and out of her tight slit. He closed his hands over her breasts, kneading her soft flesh and rubbing her nipples with his thumbs. Her head tilted back. She was moaning softly, again and again, with the regular, rocking motion of their hips. If he pushed up firmly, she moaned louder. If he held her down and pushed his penis as deep into her as he could, she groaned out loud and her back arched and she muttered incoherent phrases. It was amazing the effect he could have on this girl just by putting his penis into her.

    That unusual moment was building within his own body, that event he had experienced so few times in his life. He pushed his hips faster. Still, he had no name for it. The last time it happened was when Marcie took his penis in her mouth and down her throat. She was about to bring it out of him again. But should he allow it to happen that way, between her legs, when she could so easily get pregnant? How would he explain that to Pastor Nowicki, or worse, to the girl's father?

    "Marcie? Marcie?" he said.

    But she was squealing and writhing on top of him and her body jerked and shook. He tensed. Good Lord, what was happening to her? He should stop to make sure she was all right, but her tight slit was clenching tighter around his penis, and there was no way he could stop what was happening to him. His own body tensed. His backside rose off the seat of the chair. He groaned and his seed poured into the girl.

    "I feel it. Oliver, I feel it," Marcie said with a gasp.

    His penis pulsed again and again, as if draining every precious fluid from his body to her body. Where the portion of his penis stuck out of her pussy, he could see the thick veins bulging. Then, as he watched, his own white fluid leaked out from her folds of flesh and ran down his shaft to his pubic hair. There was so much of it. And his penis was still throbbing, sending more into her.

    Marcie touched her pussy. Some of his seed spilled on her fingers. She licked it off.

    "Thank you," she said.

    Someone knocked at the door and they froze. She looked back over her shoulder at the door then at him, her eyes wide and frightened. He sat up, holding her on his lap.

    "Just, uh, just one minute, please," he said.

    He lifted her off. His penis slipped from her wet hole and slapped his thigh. A glob of his seed splattered on the carpet. He pulled up his slacks and stuffed his rigid penis back in. She pulled her top down over her breasts, stepped into her shorts and panties and pulled them up. She grabbed his hand, but he pried it out before he opened the door. Pastor Nowicki was standing on the other side, with a wide grin.

    "Pastor Oliver, good afternoon. Ah Marcie, I was hoping to see you at the pregnancy prevention discussion," he said. His grin turned to a frown.

    Marcie's face turned bright red. Oliver cleared his throat.

    "I, um, wanted to give her some personal input," he said.

    Pastor Nowicki's grin returned.

    "Good. That's good. I'm glad to see you get involved with the younger members of the parish. Now come to my office, please. I have something we need to discuss before you leave."

    Oliver started to follow, but turned back. Marcie was standing outside his office. She shrugged and the corner of her mouth turned up.