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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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The Preacher's Wife - 6
by JW (jw1137@hotmail.com)
***
Tragedy strikes the Koch-Percival household but all's
well that ends well. (Mf, nc, 1st, oral)
***
Author note: This is a work of erotic fiction involving
lesbian and straight sex in a religious setting. No
disrespect of any church or religion is intended. If
you are offended by religious references within erotic
literature please do not read this story.
***
The preacher's wife took their naked ward by the hand
"Come on sweetie I need to make sure you're ready for
this." Over her shoulder she said to her minister
husband; "You can come up in about ten minutes."
In the Koch's bedroom Agnes sat the highly aroused and
somewhat bewildered teen on the edge of the bed. "Put
your feet up here honey" the preacher's wife instructed
pushing the girl's dangling feet up against her butt.
With a light outward pressure on the adolescent knees
the slender thighs parted and Agnes was treated to a
view of the girl's cum drenched split peach between the
silky columns. It was hard to separate the labial folds
because they were so slippery. It didn't help that
Rachel's hips were spasming.
"Hold still sweetie," the kneeling woman commanded. "I
need to see what your cherry looks like." The teenager
could feel the intense heat building up in her abdomen
again. Missus Koch's breath on her overheated and
saturated pussy lips was making her crazy but she did
her best not to move.
Agnes wanted nothing more than to drink down every drop
of the nectar that was so freely flowing but she had a
job to do. She was finally able to expose the virginal
vestibule and was very pleased to see that fingers and
tampons had done serious damage to the membrane
guarding the entrance. It wouldn't be without trauma
but fortunately Syd wasn't hung like Zack so he could
probably finish the obliteration of the girl's hymen
with minimal pain.
The preacher's wife felt her preacher husband behind
her and turned to see the sixty plus year old rod
waving in front of the grey pubic nest. For a moment
she was tempted to wrap her mouth around his engorged
member but decided that he was going to have more
stimulation than he could stand inside the hot tight
recesses of their teenaged ward. Agnes scooted up onto
the bed beside the girl as Syd advanced, lance at the
ready. His wife stroked the chestnut locks from the
teenager's face and whispered, "just relax sweetheart."
Rachel felt the pastor's cock head wipe up and down her
throbbing crease, locating the point of entry. When he
felt centered the preacher pushed very gently feeling
the spongy teenaged lips envelope the end of his glans.
The sensation was so intense that he feared he might
climax before he even achieved penetration. To Rachel
the pressure against her introitus made her want to
thrust her hips but her mentor was still cooing in her
ear, "Be still sweetie just wait."
She looked up at her husband and saw the strain on his
face. "Go slow Syd, nice and easy." It was anything but
easy. The grey haired minister applied increasing
pressure with his hips but all that happened was the
mind bending sensation on the end of his penis got
almost intolerable. Then as if some magical gate had
opened he penetrated the tattered hymen and slid half
the depth of his dick into the steaming interior. The
feel of the soft wet tissues gripping the head and
shaft of his cock tighter and more deliciously than
anything he could ever recall sent bolts of pleasure
into his balls and up his belly.
Rachel felt a sharp burning sensation as the divine
member slipped into her channel. The pain was brief and
minor compared to the ecstatic waves of joy that were
sweeping through her. Syd pushed in to the hilt and the
prone teenager began to buck and thrust. His dick
hadn't been this hard in years and the virgin pussy
gripped the stone hard shaft tighter than he had ever
gripped it with his hand. The interior was nothing like
the surface of a hand.
The soft delicate tissues that clamped down on his
penis felt like the finest velvet only better. He was
rocking his hips back and forth which seemed to
compliment Rachel's up and down hip movement. Agnes
desperately wanted to finger her throbbing womanhood as
she observed the carnal scene but knew that she had to
stay alert for the out of control participants.
The preacher's wife was glad that the teenager orgasmed
so quickly. The girl's climactic scream gave her just
the margin of error she needed. Getting to her knees,
so she was close to her husband's sweat streaked face
she rubbed her hands on his hairy chest and said
firmly, "Don't cum inside her honey." The critical
moment for the reverend was seconds away but the sage
advice managed to penetrate the pre-orgasmic haze.
He pulled his ready to explode wand out just in time.
His darling wife wrapped her talented mouth around the
surging organ and sucked down the creamy load that came
out in three explosive bursts. Pastor Koch crumpled to
his knees and grabbed his balls to massage away the
ache. The pain was actually somewhat comforting since
it affirmed that his family jewels had not just been
ejaculated out the end of his still twitching dick.
The teenager had rolled on her side and had both hands
between her legs. Agnes redirected the pussy juice on
her face from her husband's cock that had missed her
mouth. She thought it was an amazing taste sensation
the girl's cum mixed with her man's. The preacher's
wife knew the teenager was going to be sore for a day
or two so she leaned over their moaning ward and said
"Come on sugar what you need is a nice warm bath. It'll
be soothing."
***
Weeks passed and the emotional and physical bond
between the unlikely threesome strengthened. It wasn't
a non stop orgy but the norm in the Koch household
fostered a carnal atmosphere. Their love for each other
grew way out and beyond the sexual plane.
It was mid morning on the fateful day. Agnes was
surprised to hear the front door open and close. 'Syd
must have forgotten something' she reasoned. Drying her
hands on her apron she poked her head around the door
frame of the kitchen into the entry hall. "What did
you...? "Her voice trailed off. One look at her
husband's ashen tear streaked face told her something
was dreadfully wrong. He looked at her and his eyes
pierced her heart. He just stood there in the door and
the raven haired woman realized he was shaking. "Honey
what's wrong?" she said stepping toward her lean grey
haired partner.
"They're gone..." the words came as a tiny squeak from
somewhere deep in his throat. His arms were around her
and he seemed to almost collapse against her sobbing
violently. It wasn't as though Agnes had never seen him
cry before. He was a passionate emotional man, but
never like this. His body shook and shuddered and the
sounds he made were heart wrenching.
'What did he mean... They're gone?'
Agnes wasn't even sure she'd heard the words correctly.
She was sure that she couldn't support the weight he
was putting on her so she managed to maneuver him into
the living room and get them both seated on the couch.
His face was still buried in her neck and his tears
were soaking her top but the sobbing and shuddering
seemed to have subsided a little. When she thought he
might have regained enough composure to respond she
asked him again "what is it honey? What's gotten you so
upset?" without releasing his grip on her or raising
his head he took a deep shaky breath.
"They came in the night... and they... they... burned
it..." the squeaky whisper disintegrated into more
sobbing. Agnes was getting very upset herself and she
did even know why; only that anything that could
devastate the preacher like this must be bad. Lifting
his head by the chin and looking into his red swollen
eyes, the preacher's wife tried to get back to the
point,
"You said they're gone. What did you mean?"
"Rachel's parents, Al and Nancy... they're... Oh
Jesus... they're dead!" the sentence had started in a
croaky whisper and ended in a bone chilling wail. The
words hit Agnes like a sledge hammer. She felt the lump
growing in her throat even before the meaning had fully
sunk in.
"No, no it can't be... how do you know... it must be
wrong..." Sydney Koch's gorgeous wife denied his news
as her own tears began to flow. It was just what the
doctor ordered. Seeing his wife's tears of grief begin
to fall the pastor was able to get control of his own
emotions and assume his more familiar role as the
quintessential comforter. He hugged the woman of his
dreams tightly and whispered in a fairly controlled, if
croaky voice
"The rebels came to the school last night. They just
started shooting... killing people indiscriminately. Al
and Nancy herded the children into the school for
safety and they... they burned it... down... with
them... in... side" in spite of the fact that the end
of the explanation trailed off into a high pitched sob
the words were clear enough for the now weeping woman
to understand what the minister was saying.
Understanding the true meaning and the impact of the
news was going to take days, if not weeks. They held
each other and cried for a long time.
Eventually the physically and emotionally exhausted
couple parted. Syd slid off the edge of the sofa, and
twisted around so that he was on his knees, his face on
the seat cushions. He began to pray silently. Agnes
joined him. The scene was eerily similar to one that
had played out in the missionary's residence six months
ago when Al and Nancy Percival had beseeched God for
guidance on whether to take their only daughter back to
the mission field. Even as Pastor Koch prayed for the
souls of the departed missionaries he was thanking the
Almighty for the guidance that had kept the teenager in
the States; otherwise she'd be dead too.
Agnes didn't know the girl's parents the way her
husband did. Her mourning was for the precious teenager
that she had come to adore. 'How can we tell her?' she
pleaded for an answer from above.
When the minister felt he had sufficiently petitioned
for the safe passage into heaven for his fallen
comrades he remained on his knees. The overwhelming
guilt that now consumed his mind was so powerful that
it displaced the grief. 'I sent them into that
danger... it's my fault that she... she's lost her
parents.' his love for the chestnut haired teenager was
no less powerful than his wife's. The tears began to
flow again as his heart poured out for the cherished
child. Agnes pulled him to his feet and practically
dragged the spent sixty year old clergyman to the
bedroom. They collapsed on their marital bed and slept
in each others arms.
It was mid afternoon when the minister slipped from his
sleeping wife's embrace and took a long hot shower. As
the revitalizing spray cascaded over him he prayed for
the strength to see his ward through this catastrophe.
It was of course part of his job to counsel and console
the grief stricken. He was an expert on the process and
felt as though he was already at stage three but he
knew that regression was common.
Pastor Koch put on a fresh white dress shirt and tucked
it into his black suit pants before making his way to
his study. At his desk he scoured the familiar
appropriate biblical passages over and over wiping the
tears before they fell on the parchment. Agnes appeared
in the door dressed in her jade robe. She set the
coffee on the desk beside his Bible, touched his
shoulder and left without saying a word.
Syd took a long slug of the deep brown liquid and
coughed. It was heavily laced with whiskey, which he
decided was not such a bad idea. The drug did its work
and an artificial serenity descended. When he heard the
front door open and close he knew the second most
painful moment of his life was at hand.
Delivering the news to the teenager was the hardest
thing he'd ever had to do. Rachel screamed and wailed
inconsolably for hours until sleep finally, mercifully
over took her.
The days turned to weeks, and the weeks to months. With
the passage of time the grief and sense of loss shrunk
until in was a hard compressed nugget in the bottom of
their hearts. Some situations and dates poked the
nugget and made it swell. Special occasions like
birthdays, Christmas and anniversaries always had that
affect.
The Koch's began adoption proceedings a few months
after the tragedy. Their standing in the community and
the fact that the youngster had been entrusted to the
preacher and his wife, by her parents before their
death, made the process of legalizing the arrangement
just a formality.
Rachel's high school graduation three years later was
one of those events that poked at the hard nugget. The
sense of injustice at the missionary couple not being
there for this milestone in their daughter's life
weighted heavily on the little family. Syd looked
skyward, letting the tears stream into his ears as the
chestnut haired eighteen year old accepted her diploma.
His faith assured him that Al and Nancy were smiling
down on the auspicious occasion.
As with all freshmen, Rachel's first year of college
was a major adjustment. Away from home she devoted
herself to her studies with compulsive zeal. Agnes
returned to her trolling ways. She founded a youth
group within the church which yielded a fresh crop of
nubile adolescents annually. Syd never forgave himself
for the Percival's death and was never quite the same.
In Rachel's junior year the preacher retired where upon
his health deteriorated rapidly. Agnes spent more and
more of her time caring for her beloved husband. Their
step daughter returned home after graduation to help
out. The presence of the vivacious twenty three year
old in the house lifted their spirits but unfortunately
did little to assuage the ravages of guilt that sapped
the young old man's vitality. Rachel's helping out with
Agnes's youth group made the transition to where the
chestnut haired young woman simply took over seem very
natural.
Watching her step daughter by the pool with the girls
of the church group, the preacher's wife couldn't help
being reminded of her own youth and the times with Amy
Mitchell and her mother. It seemed so long ago now.
There was nothing scientific about the age range for
the church group. The youngest was twelve and the
oldest sixteen. It happened to be the age range Agnes
preferred and she was never asked to justify it.
The Saturday swimming pool get-togethers in the Koch's
backyard, when the weather was right, seemed to be the
highlight of Syd's life. He would sit in the wheel
chair, which he used more, and more these days, and
watched the girls splash around for hours. Agnes often
joined him; slipping her hand under the blanket that
covered her husband from the waist down she was
sometimes able to tease his reticent member to a semi
rigid state.
Ejaculations were rare but the preacher seemed to enjoy
the pleasuring sensations in any case. The preacher's
wife was quite sure the frolicking youths took no
notice of the towel across her own lap that hid the
fingers sneaking through the leg hole of her bathing
suit. Menopause had not robbed her of the ability to
produce the slippery juice that lubricated the clit
stroking. There was enough noise from the water play to
easily drown out the climactic groans.
One girl stood out; there was always at least one. The
red head named Brianna had joined the group last year
at thirteen. Agnes and Rachel were dazzled by the
girl's development over the winter. Development that it
seemed had not caught the attention of her parents, who
allowed her to continue to wear last year's leopard
skin suit that couldn't contain the pubescent
development.
The preacher's wife reminisced about the time with
Amy's cousin. She, at the behest of her best friend,
had teased the poor virginal boy until he came in his
pants, and it all started with a too small swim suit.
Rachel had the youngster by the hand and headed for the
house. They passed near enough to the older couple for
Agnes to hear her step daughter saying
."..it must be uncomfortable for you sweetie. I'm
pretty sure I have something that will fit better..."
'I gotta see this!' the preacher's wife resolved. She
waited a minute before following the duo inside the
residence. The house was much smaller that the
specially constructed pastor's home that the Koch's of
course had vacated when Syd retired. Still it was
everything the little family required. The bungalow
design made it much easier for the ailing minister to
manage. Agnes moved with impressive stealth down the
hall toward the bedrooms. Peeking around the corner she
located her step daughter rummaging through a drawer
with the teenager in the ill fitting one piece suit
standing behind her.
"This might work" Rachel announced and held the top of
a turquoise two piece in front of the red head's chest.
"What do you think?"
"It's really pretty" the teenager said
enthusiastically. She had been feeling more than a
little uncomfortable in the undersized swimwear.
"Do you wanna try it on?"
"Uh huh" the sweet young thing agreed, and without any
hint of modesty slipped the leopard skin straps off her
shoulders and peeled the snugly clinging spandex down
to her waist. The twin orange sized mounds that popped
free looked much larger now that they were not being
compressed by the stretchy material of the suit. Rachel
felt the old familiar itch between her legs, and Agnes
gasped in the hallway. Brianna's skin was so fair that
her tan was not noticeable until the areas that had no
sun exposure came into view.
Her arms, shoulders, face and legs looked to be an
average flesh tone; her breasts and belly in contrast
were porcelain white. The areola on top of the
developing boobies was such a delicate shade of pink
that the blush on the teenager's face right now seemed
to be deeper colored. Cool air in the air conditioned
house made the centers of the pale pink silver dollar
sized circles poke out and appear to be a shade or two
darker.
The teen seemed to have just realized that removing her
top was no longer the casual event it used to be,
before the emergence of her new chest adornments. The
expression of playful amusement turned to one of
nervous embarrassment as her face attained the reddish
glow. Brianna reached for the halter but Rachel moved
it away. "Honey this is a two piece suit," the church
group leader informed.
"We're gonna have to get a thick coat of sun screen on
you or your tummy and back I'll be the color of cooked
lobster before you get across the yard." The youngster
knew it was true. She had had enough painful sunburns
not to argue. "Take your suit the rest of the way off
and I'll put some on for you."
The crimson of the girl's face extended down below her
collar bone as she threaded the leopard print spandex
over her feet and dropped it on the floor. She stood up
with her hands cupped over her lightly furred mons.
"Lie down on the bed on your tummy" Rachel commanded.
The alabaster skinned teenager complied; thankful to
have her most private development out of sight for the
moment. The preacher's step daughter warmed the SPF 30
cream in her hands before applying it to the girl's
upper back. Brie flinched. "I'm sorry it's still cold
isn't it? It'll get warmer now."
'Warmer!' though Rachel, 'if it gets any hotter I'm
gonna melt.' The heat in her crotch increased
noticeably as her hands smeared the white cream over
the silky warm flesh. The girl made a little sound when
the older woman's hand slid up the rise of her buttock.
"Wanna make sure the part just below the waist band is
covered," she said excusing the intimate touch. "That's
one of the worst places to get a burn, 'cause
everything rubs on it." The statement was true but it
didn't justify going all the way to the top of the pert
hillock.
With another handful of lotion she started on the
teenager's right leg working her way up. Spreading the
sun block up the back of the leg, then massaging it
toward the outside and inside of the slender legs until
one of her hands was directly between the soft thighs.
Rachel could feel the heat radiating from the virginal
girlhood at the apex. Brianna had begun to emit a low
humming sound of contentment.
When the church group leader's hand brushed the fine
orange hairs surrounding the teens vulva the masseuse
heard her softly grunt. The tantalizing application of
sun screen was repeated on the left leg. Rachel's pussy
had begun to throb by the time she reached the girl's
crotch the second time. The little buttocks clenched
and her pelvis made a quick circular thrusting motion
when the skilled young lesbian let her hand brush more
firmly on the pouting lips of the pubescent sex.
"OK flip over" the woman with the greasy hands
directed. Rachel felt a surge go through her when the
red head rolled over on her back. Painting the cream on
the girl's upper chest she was able to watch the dark
pink nubs begin to emerge from the puffy nest of the
soft pink areola. Spreading the sun block over the
upper slopes of the developing mounds she noticed that
Brianna's eyes were closed and the teenager was biting
her lip. The soft sort of humming sound was more
evident now the she was face up.
'She's enjoying it,' Rachel observed and her own
neediness took over. The preacher's step daughter was
suddenly massaging the pert pubescent mounds with her
slippery hands. "Ohhhhhh!" the prone teenager moaned
but made no move to thwart the assault.
"It feels good doesn't it?" Rachel asked while kneading
the aroused teenager's boobs. Brie made a sound that
the masseuse took for an affirmative. Squeezing the
tender pegs on top of the now glowing tits caused the
tortured teen to emit a fairly loud wailing sound and
begin to thrash about on the bed. Continuing to run her
one hand over the girl's breasts Rachel let her other
hand wander down over the heaving tummy until her
finger tips touched the fine red gold curls. "Do you
ever rub down here?" she asked as her hand cupped the
plump mons.
"Ughhhh, sometimes," the fourteen year old groaned as
the experienced fingers began to separate the thick
outer lips.
"Do you know about this part?" Rachel questioned using
two fingers to hold the vulva open and the middle one
to gently stroke the exposed prepuce.
"Noooo!" the girl wailed and it was almost a scream.
Her legs snapped together and she rolled on her side
away from the stimulating hand. She did not however
escape because her closed thighs entrapped the
minister's daughter's hand and pulled the older woman
onto the bed with her. Brianna was afraid she was going
to pass out from the intensity of the pleasure the
first semi direct contact with her clit spawned.
Agnes had tiptoed right up to the bedroom doorway. The
girl's feet where toward her and from the reclined
position the teenager had no view of the door. Rachel's
was sort of sideways on the edge of the bed and would
have had to twist pretty severely to see the door also.
The preacher's wife had her hand inside her swim suit
bottoms rapidly strumming her rigid clit. 'It's just
like thirty-five years ago' she was thinking. 'That's
me laying there and missus Mitchell checking out my
pussy.'
Casting her step daughter in the role of the woman who
had initiated her into lesbian lovemaking for some
inexplicable reason pushed her over the edge. She
hunched her nearly fifty year old hips and slid down
the door post, somehow managing to hold the
vocalization of her climax mostly in. She sat there
panting for several tense seconds not really sure how
much noise she had made.
A sly smile crossed Rachel's lips as her step mom and
mentor in the ways of lovemaking, lesbian and otherwise
collapsed. She had known the older woman was there for
sometime and hoped that the highly sexed minister's
wife wasn't going to interrupt her fun. Right now she
selfishly wanted the little red head all to herself.
It wasn't the first time she's applied the lessons
she'd learned from her stepmother in guiding a
pubescent young woman to begin to truly appreciate the
pleasure her body was capable of. 'I'm just like her in
a lot of ways' Rachel acknowledged. 'It kinda speaks to
the nature versus nurture debate in a way. I have
become the new missus Koch, just like she became the
new missus Mitchell.'
"Open up for me honey, I've got so much to show you,"
the chestnut haired college grad suggested as she
rolled the cooperative teenager onto her back once
again.
THE END?
If you enjoyed this series please let me know. We all
need a little encouragement from time to time. I always
respond to e-mails, and you need not be concerned about
divulging you address. I reply but I don't initiate.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 54