("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
`6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`)
(_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-'
_..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
(((' (((-((('' ((((
K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
_________________________________________
WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW! Thank you...
_________________________________________
Scroll down to view text
Archive name: Molly.txt (M/f, pedo, mast)
Authors name: Tom <tje@mail.nls.net>
Story Title : "Moly and the Preacher"
-----------------------------------------------------
Please respond to the authors address above if you
have comments. Thank you
-----------------------------------------------------
K r i s t e n's c o l l e c t i o n
Molly and the Preacher
by Tom (tje@mail.nls.net)
She had a pretty, angelic face which was very young
looking. Her golden hair was a delight to see,
shimmering in the sunlight. Her little girl voice
tinkled like a wind chime in a light breeze. Her
clothes were rather baggy at our first meeting and
I could not tell if she was well formed or scrawny.
She was a troubled child who came from a broken home
and lived with her mother, who had a drug habit.
As the assistant pastor of the church my job was to
deal with such difficult family problems. Molly did
poorly in school, although she was clearly very bright.
And while she was not unruly, she was unfocused and out
of touch. Despite all this, she seemed to be a sweet
kid and I enjoyed talking with her. We became friends.
I thought that it would do her good to become involved
in some structured activity with children her own age,
so I arranged for her to attend our youth retreat.
Every year several dozen young people from the con-
gregation, along with a few disadvantaged youth from
elsewhere, camped out on the church's property at Lake
Huron. As the assistant pastor, my job would be to
supervise the children and see to their needs. Molly
was not at all excited about camping out in tents, but
she went quietly along.
It was a delightful day in early Summer when our bus
filled with singing children rolled up I 75 to the
camp north of Alpena. Molly stood next to me as I
drove, not singing with the others. I felt her hand on
the back of my neck and on my head. She stroked me as
she stared out the front window at the oncoming,
unending forest of northern Michigan. It was a bit
unnerving, but I didn't say anything.
Finally we arrived and the kids scooted out of the bus
with shrieks of delight into the pugent aroma of a
cedar forest with the lake in view nearby. Molly
stayed behind with me as I sorted out the luggage,
trying to help. She was such an adorable young girl.
As she lifted up suitcases I noticed subconsiously
that she had small breasts under her t-shirt. I don't
know why that thought popped into my head, but I cought
myself watching her young body moving amoung the
equipment and lugage and quickly returned to the task
at hand.
Our work crew had already set up the camp and the
children stood in line to be assigned their tents,
eager to get into their swimming gear and splash in
the cool water of Lake Huron. It was a very busy time
for me and Molly stood by and tried to help in whatever
way she could, which, really, was not much. I assigned
her a bunk in a tent and shooed her off.
I did not see her again until late in the afternoon,
when the camp counsellors gathered the children for a
lesson in water safety. She was clad in a two piece
bathing suit and she was stunningly beautiful. I
reminded myself that she was just twelve years old,
but I could not tear my eyes from her. She had the
most exquisite, soft looking, shapely limbs. She stood
so proudly, her body held so straight, away from the
other children, looking at me, smiling shyly.
It distressed me that I found her so physically at-
tractive. I stared at her upper thighs and her bare
midrift and felt guilty. But I continued to stare.
In my own defense; I was just twenty five years old
and still a virgin, and thoughts that were beyound my
control seemed to just materialize in my minds-eye
unbidden.
We had a bonfire that night, after which the children
were sent off to their bunks. The camp still buzzed
with their noises, even after lights out. Then quiet
settled over the cedar grove and I walked to the beach
and the sound of lapping waves. It was so peaceful as
I nestled in the sand and breathed the smell of the
lake. Then Molly appeared next to me, still clad in
her swiming garb, shivering in the coolness of the
evening.
Without a word she sat down next to me and lay on the
sand, shivering. I had no coat to offer her and I told
her that she should return to her tent where she would
be warm and could sleep. Instead, she snuggled close
to me, her head nuzzling my shoulder, her one arm
across my chest. I was in a panic! I could not
identify her aroma, part Lake Huron, part girl, but it
was an alluring smell to me. I dared not touch her!
But I was thinking of touching her! I got up quickly
and went to the shore, where I waded in the water, the
coldness of it on my feet reinforcing my discipline.
Molly followed me and then took my hand in hers. I
lost my resolve, stopped, and then embraced the lovely,
willing girl. She buried her face in my chest as she
clutched at me, and we stood with our feet in the
lapping water as we hugged each other. My mind was in
a turmoil. I suspected that I had fallen in love with
her. She was just fourteen! I told myself to no avail.
Then, suddenly, we saw two dim figures down the beach
walking toward us.
Molly scampered away and in a minute I encountered two
counsellors on an evening stroll. We exchanged
pleasantries and chatted about the day's events. When
they left me alone I looked about. Molly was gone. I
went back to my tent and felt awful. The memory of her
femaleness urged me to masturbate, but I resisted. In
divinity school I had a large sign on my wall which
stated "DON'T". I had masturbated, of course, more
than I would like to admit, but it always left me with
remorse and shame. I masturbated that night and did
not sleep well afterwards.
The next morning upon awakening my first thought was
to resign, to leave the camp, the church, and go else-
where. I thought that I should find a good woman and
marry her. My feelings for Molly, however, were
obsessive. I wondered how she would dress that day.
How soon would I see her. Then I saw her, standing
outside my tent looking in. She was clad in shorts
and a blouse, barefoot. She stood there and stared at
me. I could not bear the sight of this exquisite young
beauty; it was too painful for me. Still I looked at
her lovliness, resisting illicit, shameful thoughts.
For the rest of the day I coped, but almost in a
trance. Molly seemed always to be within ten feet of
me, staring at me, her young flesh enticing. I so
wanted to kiss her pouty lips, so expressive, although
I fought the notion of doing such a thing. I knew that
she would let me do that and more, much more. The
little girl was infatuated with me in her innocence,
and I knew that I loved her.
That night, when the camp was silent and I lay awake
on my cot, Molly entered my tent, as I knew and feared
she would. I was resolved to resist my feelings for
her and not take advantage of the little girl. She
stood close by my cot and looked down on me with an
expression that was neither happy nor sad. It was a
look of wonder that I could not comprehend. She knelt
on the floor next to my cot and just stared at me, her
face inches from mine.
Her lips were slightly apart and I could see the tips
of her upper teeth, white and even. I did not know what
motivated her, what she saw in me, but I was in real
physical pain because of her; my throat ached, and my
erection was agony it's self.
I got up from the cot and pulled her to her feet. My
fingers tingled at the touch of her bare arm. I told
her that it was time for sleep, that we needed our
rest. The girl leaned against my body, her arms at
her side, her head on my chest. Her lovely golden hair
tickled my chin, and again I smelled her aroma. I
dared not touch her, but she touched me. She placed
her hands on my shoulders for leverage, leaned up and
pressed her mouth against mine. That kiss was so in-
nocent, so inexperienced; her lips were slack and un-
puckered. I did not kiss back, despite my desire.
I placed my hands on her pale cheeks and gently
seperated us. She smiled quickly into my face,
radiantly. I had never seen her more beautiful.
Then she left my tent. She never spoke a word
during her visit to me, which seemed to have lasted
forever, but was over, in fact, in just a few minutes.
The next morning I realized that Molly was my girl,
although I did not have a clue about what I was to do
with her. My first thought was a mental calculation:
in less than six years she would be of legal age, and
I would be just thirty. I was thinking of marriage.
Then I scolded myself at my naivete; her infatuation
would certainly not last the Summer. Still, I looked
about for her in camp. In fact, I followed her around,
gazing at the lovely softness of her young body. She
knew when I was near and always turned her head and
smiled at me. I was totally smitten.
That night it was quite warm and I lay on the sand
listening to the waves lap the shore, knowing that
Molly would find me. It was after midnight and no one
was about. Molly quietly lay down beside me and I
felt happy that she had come. She nestled to me and
I put my arm around her, feeling the warmth of her
skin through her blouse as I stroked her back. I felt
free to touch her without guilt or remorse. I could
kiss her and feel her flesh, because my love for her
entitled me to. My confusion and frustrations resulted
in such a rationalization: there was no objective
morality, just love.
I had planned nothing, nor did I have a goal. I would
let Molly love me however she wanted and ask nothing
of her in return. I placed my hand on her upper arm
and was aroused by the softness of her flesh. She
raised her head from my chest and looked into my eyes.
Then she kissed me. I did not push her away. I taught
her how to kiss properly. For uncounted minutes our
lips were pressed together and then, tentatively, my
tongue darted out and touched her lips. Her tongue
immediately met mine and our kissing became even more
intensely passionate. She was lying half on top of me
by this time, with my arms around her.
Her blouse had pulled up somewhat and I found my hand
on the bare skin of her lower back. As we kissed I ran
my hand up under her blouse and fondled her back all
the way to her shoulder. My thumb poked at her side
and she raised herself slightly so that I could cup her
left breast. It was small but almost filled my hand.
I felt its hard nipple tickle my palm. I had never
before felt such erotic softness. Still kissing, I
rolled the little girl onto her back so I could explore
her nreasts more easily. I quickly unbuttoned her
blouse and saw in the moonlight her firm mounds sur-
mounted by roseate tips. I broke the kiss and rushed
my mouth to suckle the soft lovliness of her pubescent
breasts. She fondled my head and mewled.
As I ravished her nipples my hand dared to find its way
to her thighs, touching one, kneading it high up near
her shorts. I was so aroused that I suddenly had an
orgasm and messed my undershorts. As I groaned, my
mouth on a nipple, I clutched her groin and tried to
give my Molly pleasure with my fingers. I was not in
the correct spot and the girl pulled my hand higher as
we writhed in sexual excitment. I raised my head to
hers and we resumed kissing as I masturbated the little
girl. She gasped and then cried out into my mouth as
I fingered her to an orgasm. Finally we quit and I
held her lovingly in my arms. We fell soundly asleep
after that first sexual experience for the both of us
and awoke shortly before dawn. We then kissed some
more, looked into each other's face and pleged love
words.
Two years later we were married.
If you liked the story let the author know at this
address: Tom <tje@mail.nls.net>
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
(PROTECT THE CHILDREN, THEY ARE OUR FUTURE)
No one in their right mind would really do anything that
was 'described' in the above story. The content of this
text was included in the 'archive' because it was a work
of erotica, and *not* because anyone *condones* sex with
minors. UNDERSTAND?!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
K r i s t e n's C o l l e c t i o n