The Preacher's Grace

The young preacher looked up from the papers he'd been working on and blinked. "Well. Grace. It's nice to see you again" he said after a moment. "I wasn't sure you'd...come." Was there a little emphasis on that final word? Grace wasn't certain, so she stayed quiet and smiled as he leaned back in his office chair and placed the pen to his lips.

They simply sat for a few moments, the silence stretching. Grace could feel his eyes making a slow, thorough tour of her clothes and body, from her hair to her boobs to her navel to her short skirt and toned thighs and back up again. Finally he said, "I must say you're dressed somewhat...provocatively, for a visit to a preacher." A little smile played there, and was that a twinkle of amusement in those jet-dark eyes, or was it interest?

She spread her legs apart just slightly; she was certain that from where he sat he could see up the continuous stretch of skin from the lacy tops of her stockings up her inner thighs to her shaved bikini line and and the little sliver of red cloth that barely hid her cootchie. "Do you think there might be a reason for that?" She asked coyly, though at the same time thinking, here it comes—the disapproval, the outrage, the stern lecture... She didn't think he'd tell her mother about this, though; somehow she'd gotten the impression that that just wasn't his way. It was, frankly, the only reason she'd even considered taking this dangerous gamble.

But what happened next both surprised and delighted her. He slowly rose from his chair, laid the pen on the desk, and walked around from behind it to face her squarely, leaning his butt against the edge. Gazing down at her with his hands resting to either side, he asked in a low voice, "Was there a reason for it, Grace?"

She leaned forward, giving him a plentiful look down her valley where the tear in the t-shirt gapped open. She knew her nipples were hard in anticipation and poking out, clearly visible under the fabric. Looking up archly from under her brows, she murmured, "Um, would you like there to be a reason?"

He cocked his head a little to one side and lowered his eyelids slightly. A slow, sly, lustful smile grew on his face, almost a leer. "Maybe you should show me what you might have wanted to...provoke," he said softer yet.

From her forward position his crotch was no more than a foot in front of her face, and about on the same level. Without taking her eyes from his, she slowly reached forward and ran her hands up the outside of his thighs, from knee to hip. When he didn't move or object, she ran them back down again and moved to the inside, drawing them up, up...

When he still didn't move or speak, she took her courage in her hands and moved them all the way up to where she could feel the bulge of his cock through the fabric. His only response was a short, sharp intake of breath when her fingers glided along what seemed to her to be a very nice bulge. She slowly caressed the length of it, from tip to root, and back again; already semi-hard, she could feel it stiffening even more under her hand. "I think I got the reaction I was looking for," she breathed, her eyes still locked on his.

"Maybe..." he said slowly, still not moving, "maybe you should look a little closer. Just to be sure."

She reached for his belt, pulling out the tongue, then unhooking the buckle, then pulling it open, all in slow motion, watching his face the entire time. When he still said and did nothing, she continued to unbuttoning the waistband, grasping the zipper, and slowly, slowly pulling it down, down, down, all the way to the bottom. Spreading the flaps apart, she reached in and caressed his hard-on through his boxers, stroking it, gently squeezing it...

"Closer yet, I think," he instructed, barely above a whisper. She moved her hand up, then down again under the elastic of his shorts, until it encountered the warm, smooth flesh-tube that was his member. She grasped it firmly and pulled it forth into the open air, swaying gently, fully erect. The head pointed at her as her fingers stroked it, the skin taut and slightly darkened.

Without prompting she leaned forward, finally taking her eyes from his, and licked the ridge slowly all around, flicking out to catch the tiny pearl of pre-cum now glistening at the tip. She continued her circuit a few times, then opened her lips to engulf the bulbous knob, gently and gradually gliding farther and farther down the taut skin of the head until it was fully inserted in her mouth, her lips just under the ridge. With one hand stroking slowly, she sucked at the velvety glans and licked the tender frenum, reaching out with her other hand to draw out his balls, cupping and weighing them gently.

"Ah!" was the only sound he made as his head rolled back. "Ahhh..."

She started to suck and lick in earnest, bobbing up and down along the top third of the shaft while following her mouth with her hand in a loose twisting motion, making sure to catch the ridge of the helmet on each pass. So soft, so warm, so smooth and tight...

He stayed motionless for a few minutes, obviously enjoying what she was doing, then he bent forward at the waist and inserted both hands down inside the top of the t-shirt where it gapped, forcing it to gap even farther as his hands worked their way down the outsides and undersides of her breasts, cupping and stroking and squeezing those firm but pliant orbs of flesh, the hard little gumdrops of her nipples pressing against his palms. It was her turn to gasp through her nose as his thumbs and fingers found those stiff little nubs, pinching and plucking and rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers.

After a few minutes of tit-play and knob-gobbling, he withdrew his hands from her shirt, put them under her armpits, and lifted her up to her feet. Grabbing her behind the head with one hand, he mashed his mouth to hers, tongue pushing between her lips and teeth to tangle with her own. His other hand dropped down to lift up under the short skirt, finding her already-wet pussy in its red silk sheath. He stroked and massaged her sex through the silk, locating and pressing the swollen bud of her clit. "Mmmm! Mmmm!" she moaned into his mouth, attacking his tongue in turn, hand returning to jerk and stroke the hard flesh pole protruding from his pants.

He broke the kiss and pulled back a little. "I think," he said huskily, "that you've been a very naughty girl. You need to be...chastised, in the name of the Lord..."

He took hold of her shoulders and turned her to the desk, pushing her down so that she was half bent over. As she held herself up on her hands, he flicked her skirt up over her ass to rest on her lower back.

Running his hand across her smooth, firm cheeks, he plucked at the tiny string that issued from between her legs to join the equally tiny string that encircled her waist. "Oh, yes," he breathed, "a very naughty girl..." His palm glided tenderly over the tight skin of her rump. "You must come to Jesus, child, and...repent..." He slapped her on one cheek, a glancing blow—not hard, just enough to sting a little. She bit her lip and looked back at him over her shoulder. "Yes," she gasped breathily. "Yes, Pastor Greg...Show me the way; bring me into the light."

He gave her another glancing slap on the other cheek, then two more in quick succession. With each blow she jerked forward a little and gasped. He ran his hand smoothly across her stinging ass, caressing, soothing. "The ways of the world," he said as he slipped his hand down between her upper thighs, "are steeped in sin." She spread her legs slightly to give him better access as he caressed her pussy through the now-sopping fabric of the thong. "They are pernicious," he continued as he slipped the fabric to one side, using his fingers to massage and stroke the damp, smooth, delicate petals beneath.

"You must be purged," he went on as his fingertips slowly circled her engorged clit, "of licentiousness," as he eased his thumb between her lips and found the entrance to her vagina, "and lust," as he pushed his thumb deep into her slick, tight tunnel.

I am going to fuck a preacher! she thought. Right in the church! The idea was so deliciously wicked and hot that she could already feel herself on the verge of orgasm. "Yes, Pastor...yes..." she gasped out. "Show me what I must do."

Stepping up close behind her, he pulled the thong string to one side and slid his cock between her legs, rubbing it back and forth in the channel of her labia to lubricate it. She bent down farther, arching her back to give him a better angle, and reached back between her legs to catch his throbbing rod and guide it. When he was situated at the entrance to her hot, wet pussy, he said, "You must let the Lord enter in..."

At the word "enter" he pushed forward, sliding into her like a hand slowly filling a glove. Oh, so big... she thought. She hadn't expected him to be this big, or feel this good. She could feel her muscles clenching around his thickness, gripping and holding it as it slid home, adjusting to this invasion. It ratcheted up her arousal several more notches, bringing her closer to her peak. She moved her hand forward a little between her legs and started rubbing her bliss-button in rapid little circles. Just a little more...

He shoved the t-shirt up, pushing it up onto her upper chest to let her luscious globes bobble free underneath. Cupping one in his hand, he began a slow but steady thrusting, powerful, deep, gradually picking up the pace until he was pounding in and out of her at a good clip, and for several minute there was no sound in the room but grunts, and groans, and the rhythmic slapping of bodies as his abdomen met her ass on each stroke. He squeezed and tweaked her nipple with the one hand and tangled her hair in a twist with the other to give himself more leverage, drawing her head back and up.

Grace felt so delightfully decadent, so depraved, bent over a preacher's desk while he plowed her from behind. The sensations from his nipple-play shot like little electric sparks on a wire connected directly to her cunny, joining and enhancing and reinforcing the exquisite feelings that were emanating there from the slide and glide of his cock in and out of her tight walls and her own drubbing of her clit to wash through her entire body like liquid fire.

When it happened it was like a tidal wave. A low moan began in her throat, growing louder and higher in pitch; her fingers on her clit sped up, whipping back and forth like a mad violinist. Finally she screamed, "I'm...I'm cumming! I'm cumming, Lord!!" as her climax crashed over her, driving her under, tumbling and tossing her about like a rag doll amid fierce breakers of pleasure and euphoria.

Chest heaving, she sank lower on trembling arms that no longer seemed strong enough to support her. Understanding what had just happened, Pastor Greg slowed his piston-thrusting, and slowed again, and at last he stopped, standing with his rod buried deep, feeling the spasmodic clenching and contracting of her vaginal walls.

Then he withdrew entirely, and she had a sudden pang of loss, emptiness where a moment ago she had been full. He pulled her upright, kissed her shoulder and the hollow of her neck, and whispered in her ear, "Are you cleansed, child? Have all the evil, lustful, wicked demons been driven from your body?" She weakly nodded. "Y...yes...yes, Paster Greg," she managed to mumble around sucking in great lungfuls of air.

He nodded in turn. "Good, that's very good, child. And now, it's time for you to take communion..." He turned her to face him, and pushed her to her knees. "Taste, child...open your mouth wide, and taste the goodness of virtue..."

She dutifully did as instructed; this was something she knew and enjoyed. He thrust his glistening prick between her warm, soft, flushed lips as her hand came up to encircle the shaft, and he began pumping once more with shorter and shallower strokes.

She brought all of the skills she'd learned in the last year to bear, stroking, twisting, sucking, licking... it was only a minute or so until he froze, gave a sharp cry, and suddenly her mouth was filled with warm, salty semen. She felt his cock pulse and throb as the thick juice of his balls emptied itself into her. She swallowed, then swallowed again, sucking gently on just the head to encourage the last few drips and spurts. Finally she released his knob with a small slurping sound, and looked up into his dark, dark eyes.

He drew her up again and sat her gently in the chair, leaning in for a long, slow, sensuous deep kiss. "You have been saved," he said low, "but the devil is ever prowling the world like a devouring lion. I think we need to schedule regular sessions to make sure you stay on the path of righteousness. Don't you agree?"

She nodded a scarlet flush burning in her cheeks and neck. "Twice a week, I think," he said, straightening and pulling up his pants from around his ankles. "Twice a week would be good. I'll mark it on my calendar." He finished snapping, zipping, and buckling, and then went around his desk to flip open a notebook. "Tuesdays...and...Fridays. And Sundays, depending on if things are slow; we can play that by ear from week to week... Would that be alright?" She nodded again, beginning to breathe normally, now.

"Good," he said. "Well, Grace," he said, looking up and smiling. "I'm happy you came by today. Your soul was in grave peril, and I think we're well on the way to saving you from the evils of the flesh."

She rose, straightened her skirt, pulled down her shirt, and took up the raincoat. "Tuesday, then," she said. "I'll see you Tuesday," as she shrugged the garment on. "I'll be looking forward to it," he replied, and watched as she opened the door and exited the office.

On her way back to her car she was already thinking about what she would wears on Tuesday. And at some point she would let him know that she was on the pill; she wanted to feel him gush deep inside her belly.

Maybe this won't be such a dull summer after all, she thought. And after considering it a few minutes more, decided this was one story she wouldn't be sharing with Jenny and Kristy.