Pastor Makes a Baby

From the first time the family joined the church, I liked all of them. I am pastor of a fairly large First Baptist Church in a county seat town not too far from a major city in the south, so it's always good to have new members, and especially members who will get involved and help in the church. Such a family this appeared to be . . . and proved to be.

The husband was a strong, manly man, and his wife was lovely. A tall, sturdy woman, she worked out regularly and kept herself in good shape. The two of them had several children and everyone seemed happy enough. They were faithful and regular in attendance

I spent quite a bit of time with them and began to suspect the wife, "Lisa," was flirting with me. She frequently complimented me on the way I dressed, on my sermons, how nice my cologne smelled and how "cute" I was. I enjoyed the attention . . . especially from someone as attractive as she. She had short black hair and a nice tan.

One day I arrived back from a plane trip and needed a ride. My wife was unable to pick me up, so when I came out of the terminal, I was glad to see that "Lisa" was going to provide my ride.

As she drove me away from the airport, I thanked her for picking me up. She said: "Oh, don't thank me; I've been waiting for an opportunity to be alone with you away from the church and the crowds."

That made my heart beat a little faster. Then she said, "Ever since I first saw you, I've had a big crush on you." She looked over at me and smiled.

I told her I was honored and had always appreciated her as well." She said "I don't think you understand. I crave you all the time. When you preach I can't concentrate on the sermon, thinking how handsome you are and how much I'd like to be with you."

Needless to stay, I was stunned . . . but I liked the way the conversation was going. She looked over at me and suddenly put her hand on the back of my head and stroked my hair. I told her I liked the way that felt, but that we ought to be careful on the freeway that way. In a slightly pouty way she said, "I don't know why I can't have you since I love you and want you so much."

I suggested that she exit off the freeway onto a road I knew turned into an isolate area. I directed her to pull into the parking lot behind a closed bank and stop. As soon as the SUV she was driving was parked, we were in each other's arms. I caressed her and hugged her tightly. She began kissing me on my neck and soon we were lip-locked in a fierce kiss. I had never been tongued the way she kissed me . . . I thought she was going to put her tongue all the way down my throat. I, of course, responded . . . I began stroking and caressing her tight, firm breasts. They weren't huge, but they were very adequate and felt very satisfying to me. After a while, I unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse and moved my hand inside her bra. She unbuttoned the rest of her shirt, reached around behind her and unfastened the back of her bra. Before I knew it I was looking at her heavenly breasts; then began kissing them, pulling at her firm, large nipples with my teeth. She began to moan and tell me she had wanted this for such a long time.

Naturally, about this time, a car pulled into the parking lot. She quickly covered her front and was breathing rapidly. I told her I thought we'd better find a more satisfactory place. With disappointment, she told me that she had better get on and get me home; her husband and children would be waiting for her.

Obviously I could think of little else the rest of the day and night. The next day was Sunday, and I saw her by herself as I was greeting church attendees. She hugged me discreetly, and I whispered in her ear and asked her if she could come into my office during the Sunday School hour. She immediately said "Yes." As soon as most of the crowd had already arrived and I could pull myself away from the front of the church I went to my office. I went in and waited. After a few minutes I heard a knock on the door. My heart was pounding heavily . . . and, sure enough, it was she. She came in and I closed and locked the door behind her.

Immediately she was in my arms and we were kissing again . . . even more passionately than we had been in her vehicle. I caressed her breasts and kissed her neck and stroked her back and pulled her to me tightly. She pressed her loins into my granite-hard manhood and moved against me. She told me again that she loved me and wanted me very much.

Of course, since we were right there on the church premises, and people were coming and going out in the hallway . . . and it seemed, at this church that everybody and his brother had a key to the office, we were both nervous as well as turned on. Finally we broke apart. I sat down on a couch in the office and she sat down behind my desk in my office chair.

We began to talk, and she confided in me that all her children had been born by caesarean section and that the only protection she and her husband used for birth control was condoms. She said, with frustration, that a couple of them had torn once or twice. This had scared her because she didn't want to go through birth again with any of his children.

I smiled and said, "I wish I could try to make you pregnant!"

Very seriously, she said: "I didn't say I didn't want more children. I just don't want any more of HIS children." Then she said: "I'd go through every bit of again for you, Baby." I asked her if she was sure of that, and she said, "I'll show you before the day is over."

I didn't know what that meant until after the worship service. On the way out . . . again, she found a way to be away from the rest of her family, and asked if I had just a moment to go back into my office with her. I felt it could be safely done, and so we returned to the "inner sanctum." I was hoping for some more physical affection, but she didn't sit down. She just reached into her purse and pulled out a small calendar. She flipped it open to the first page, and then to the next. It was a one-page per month calendar, and on certain days, she had drawn a red heart. Above, in alternating places, she had drawn blue lines.

She said: "The hearts are days that I'm at my most fertile . . . when I'm ovulating. The blue lines are when Jared is working a nine-hour day shift, and the kids are all in school. Come see me on those days."

She lowered her voice and whispered in my ear. She said, "Those are the days I want you to fuck me. I want you to plant your baby inside me. I don't care how long it takes . . . in fact, I want to work on it a lot."

I brought up all the possible problems such a thing could bring. She said, "I don't care! All I want to do is grow big and fat with your seed growing inside me." And then: "I want you to be the father of my child." And she tucked the calendar into my inside coat pocket, and kissed me and left. Before she opened the door, she said: "I'll be waiting for you."

Well, I can tell you it didn't take me long to need to make a "pastoral visit" out at their farm where they lived, quite some distance from town. True to her word, she was waiting for me the very first time, all alone. She was wearing a halter top and nothing but panties. She took me by the hand and led me to her and her husband's bed. She took a burglar safety bar under the knob of the entrance door.

She looked at me with those pouty eyes and said: "You wear 'way too many clothes!" I solved that problem quickly. Then I untied her halter top and saw her tits . . . again, the nipples sticking out like bullets. It didn't take long until my hands were in her pants. I began fingering her until she began to come, then she cried out, "I want YOU! I want YOU INSIDE ME!" She spread her legs wide and her unshaven pussy was waiting there for me. Even though she was nice and tight, she was so filled with juice that I sank my fat tool all the way into her very quickly. She rocked back and forth on it and almost immediately came . . . hard and fast. She gripped me so tight I thought she was going to break me off! I kept ramming my baby-maker into her as deeply as I could. It took me a while to come; I have quite a bit of stamina in that regard. She bucked and cried out "Please! Please! Make me pregnant! Fill me up with your baby gravy! I mean it! I want your child!"

At last, with her fingernails digging into my nipples and my cock head all the way up into her cervix, I shot the biggest load I think I've ever delivered. She came again and again. Finally, exhausted, we lay by each other and held each other. With tears, she said, "THAT'S the way I've always wanted Jared to fuck me!"

From then on, I tried to make as many of those "heart" days as possible. Time passed so quickly that I was somewhat taken by surprise when, going into church one Sunday morning, she hugged me and whispered in my ear: "I'm 'WAY late!"

I thought she meant late to Sunday School until I saw her smile, and I knew what she meant. I whispered, "Are sure it's not . . .?"

She said "NO! I've kept him out of me until this could happen. It's yours, for sure."

Several months later, as a good pastor would, I visited her and husband in the local hospital and congratulated them on their latest arrival.

My son is already walking, and so far, there has not been the slightest sign of suspicion on her husband's part, or anyone else's, either.

She and I still spend time together whenever we safely can, and never use any protection, so I can't say whether or not the population of the church will increase any further. She says she would be very happy if it did.