I was home from college for the summer, and my mother dragged me off to church with her on the first Sunday of my summer vacation. I don’t particularly like going to church. I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints. I heard that in a song somewhere.

After we took our place in the pews, the preacher came out and started the service. But he wasn’t the same preacher that we had the last time I came here. This preacher was young, and cute. I wondered if he was married. I didn’t see a wedding ring on his finger. Suddenly church got interesting. I loved the sound of his voice when he talked, and I liked the fire in his eyes when he preached. A silent voice inside my head told me that I wanted to meet him.

I told my mother that I was going to hang around after the service ended, and she left for home without me. Pastor Kenny was greeting and speaking with his congregation as they were leaving the church. I waited patiently until the last parishioners went by, then I stepped up to him and smiled.

“Hi, I’m Gina. Welcome to our little town,” I said brightly while holding out my hand.

“Thank you,” he responded warmly, enfolding my hand in both of his and holding it there. “My name’s Greg, Greg Kenny. It’s nice to meet you. Are you a regular attendee? Being new here I am having a hard time putting names to faces. It’s a lot to absorb in such a short time.”

His eyes up close were even more mesmerizing than from a distance. His eyes were like dark pools of mystery, hinting at hidden depths and secrets. As dark as they were, there was fire underneath. I had seen it during his sermon, and I saw it again, up close. His hands around mine felt good. Very good. His hands were warm and gentle, yet I could feel his strength through them as well.

The moment when I would ordinarily have expected him to release my hand came and went, and he continued to hold it. So I simply surrendered to the simple pleasure of letting him hold my hand for however long it lasted.

“Yes, I imagine it is quite a lot to wrap your head around,” I responded conversationally. “My family attends here, but I’m just home from college for the summer.”

I noticed his eyes drifting down to my neck, then lower, following the slim gold chain, lingering for a moment to where it disappeared between my breasts before lifting back to my eyes. His stare brought a tingle between my legs, and that little voice inside my head began forming an idea.

“I was wondering…” I began casually. “I’m taking a Women’s Study on the changing role of women in today’s society in which I am writing a paper on, and I’d be interested in hearing your views on the changing role of women in the church, where it’s been, where it’s going, and whether or not you think we’re headed in the right direction.”

He smiled. “I’d be delighted to discuss that topic with you, Gina. Right now I have to make some visitations. I will be back in my office around three o’clock. If you would like to come by, we can talk at length about it.”

“Um, sure,” I answered. “That would be fine.” That familiar tingle between my legs intensified with the intense look he gave me, and we stood regarding each other as the silence stretched between us.

Finally, he released my hand and said, “See you then.” He turned and walked into the church, loosening his tie as he went.

When I got back home, my mother said, “I stopped to talk to the Carters before I left the church grounds and I saw you talking to that new preacher. What were you talking about?”

“Oh, I was just telling him how much I enjoyed his sermon,” I answered innocently. “He’s very spiritual.” It was far better to lie than to tell my mother that I had the hots for the preacher.

“Well, I hope he can get through to you. Lord knows I’ve tried and failed…” my mother muttered, not quite to herself.

By the way he held my hand, and the intensity of his gaze, the way he glanced at my cleavage…yes, he was definitely getting through to me. I puttered around the house until it was nearly three, then I quickly packed a few things into a carry-bag and told my mother that I was going to a friend’s house across town, and asked if I could borrow the car.

I was wearing jeans and a knit top, looking very casual. But on the drive over, I pulled into a secluded alley and put my plan into action. I quickly shucked off my jeans to reveal the tiny red thong I’d donned at the house, just large enough to conceal my slit. I replaced the jeans with a very short, flouncy skirt that barely covered the tops of my thighs. Skimming out of the knit top, I unhooked and discarded my bra, and went braless under a tightly cropped t-shirt that revealed my midriff and the shimmering diamond pinned to my navel. The deep V of the front revealed a generous portion of my cleavage, and there was no way of hiding the pert of my nipples under its thin material.

I was already wearing my sheer thigh-highs topped with lacy borders which ended several inches below the hem of my abbreviated skirt, exposing a nice expanse of creamy white skin. Lastly, I traded my sandals for a pair of five-inch open-toe pumps.

Checking my look in the mirror, I nodded with satisfaction. My soft silky hair framed my pretty face and draped softly over my shoulders. My nipples, already hard from the excitement of what I was doing, tented the jersey fabric enticingly. Finally, I added a light raincoat that covered down to my knees. Even though the sky was sunny that day, I needed to hide my seductive garb from any casual eyes that might see me walking from the car to the church.

Taking a deep breath to settle my nerves, I pulled back onto the main road and proceeded to the church. Wrapping the raincoat tightly around me, I walked quickly to the church. I was relieved to see that there were nobody in the church as I walked through it on my way to the office in the back.

After I walked past the alter and into the darkened hallway, I doffed the raincoat and slung it over my arm. Ready at last, I took a deep breath and knocked.

“Come in,” his voice called from the other side.

I turned the knob and swung the door open. The office, which I had never seen before, was walled with dark cherry wood. The walls had a few religious pictures on them, along with a crucifix. There was a bookshelf filled with spiritual volumes, a desk and two side chairs. And that was all. Very simple.

“Hello Pastor Greg,” I said brightly after I entered the room. I pulled the nearest chair slightly further from the desk, draping the raincoat over the back of the other. I sat on the front edge of the chair and reclined a little, allowing my bare thighs to extend out, though keeping my knees together.

The young preacher looked up from his papers and blinked. “Well, Gina. It’s nice to see you made it,” he said after a moment of silence. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“Well, here I am,” I said. And then there was a period of silence, and awkwardness for the lack of words as the silence stretched. He wasn’t saying anything, but his eyes were telling me a lot by the way they made a slow, thorough tour of my outfit and body, from my hair to my breasts, to my navel, to my short skirt and toned thighs and back up again.

Finally, he broke his silence and said, “I must say you’re dressed somewhat provocatively for a visit to a preacher.” A little smile played on his lips when he said that. I couldn’t tell if he was amused or interested. If he found me simply amusing and nothing more, I would be deeply embarrassed for acting so foolishly. But I had to know.

I opened my legs just slightly. “Do you think there might be a reason for the way I’m dressed?” I asked coyly, while at the same time I was thinking here it comes, the disapproval, and the Jezebel lecture that will follow. But that didn’t come. Instead, he slowly rose from his chair and walked out from behind his desk, and leaning his butt against the edge, he faced me squarely.

Gazing down at me with his hands resting on either side, he asked in a low voice, “Was there a reason for it, Gina?”

Looking up archly from under my brows, I 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 curled his lips as his eyes leered. “Maybe you should show me what you might have wanted to…provoke,” he softly said to me.

From my forward position his crotch was no more than a foot from my face, and at the same level. The voice inside my head grew louder, filling my thoughts with temptation. I felt the hard beating of my heart inside my chest, the blood heating in my veins. Without taking my eyes from his, I slowly reached forward and ran my hand along the outside of his thigh, from knee to hip. When he didn’t move or object, I ran my hand back down and to the inside, drawing up towards his crotch.

He remained silent as my hand covered his warm bulge. His only response was a short, sharp intake of breath when my fingers glided over it. With my eyes still on his I slowly caressed his length through his pants, from tip to root, and back again. I felt it stiffen to my touch.

“I think I got the reaction I was looking for,” I breathed, my eyes still locked on his.

“Maybe…” he slowly responded, still not moving. “Maybe you should look a little closer…just to be sure.”

That was an ‘open’ invitation if I ever heard one! Trying hard to conceal my excitement, I 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. I continued by unbuttoning the waistband, grabbing the tab of the zipper, and slowly pulling it all the way down. Spreading the flaps apart gave my dainty hand access to reach in and caress his hardening penis through the cotton material of his boxers. I stroked it while gently squeezing his shaft.

“Closer yet, I think,” he instructed, barely above a whisper.

I moved my hand up and under the elastic of his shorts until I encountered the warm, smooth, rounded flesh that was his member. I ran my fingers along its length, then pulled his boxers down his hips, fully exposing his erection that swayed gently in front of my eyes. I felt a certain excitement coming from a man of God showing me his carnal nature. He was breaking all the rules…for me.

Without prompting, I leaned forward and licked the ridge of his cock slowly all around, flicking my tongue to catch the briny pearl of pre-cum now glistening at the tip.

Never in my life had I dreamed that I would be sucking a preacher’s cock, but there I was, a shameless, sinful Jezebel, opening my lips to engulf the bulbous knob, gently and gradually taking him further into the warm wet regions of my mouth.

I continued the circuit of bobbing my head, gliding my lips further and further down the smooth, raw flesh of his cock as I myself was feeling raw all over.

“Ahhh…” was the only sound he made as his head rolled back. He was enjoying it, which encouraged me to suck and lick in earnest, bobbing up and down along the top third of his shaft and every once in a while drawing it deeply towards the back of my throat.

He remained motionless for a few minutes, obviously enjoying what I was doing, then he bent forward at the waist and inserted his hands down inside the top of my t-shirt where it gapped, forcing it to gape even farther as his hands worked their way down the outer edges and underneath my breasts. I moaned with my mouth full of cock when he cupped and stroked and squeezed my firm pliant orbs of flesh with the hard little gumdrops of my nipples pressing against his palms.

It was my turn to gasp through my nose as his thumbs and fingers found my stiff little nubs, pinching and plucking and rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers.

After a time of titties-play and knob-gobbling, he withdrew his hands from my shirt, put them under my armpits, and lifted me up onto my feet. “Surely you are the devil’s daughter. He sent you to me, to tempt me into that sinful abyss of lust with you. And I am failing miserably, aren’t I?”

And with that he grabbed me behind the head with one hand and mashed his mouth against mine. His tongue pushed between my lips and teeth to tangle with my own. His other hand dropped and reached under my skirt, finding my wet pussy shielded by the thin silk of my thong.

He stroked and massaged my sex through the wet silk, locating and pressing the swollen bud of my clit. “Mmm! Mmm!” I moaned feverishly against his lips, attacking his tongue in turn, returning my hand to his cock, stroking that hard fleshy 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 naught girl. You need to be…severely chastised. Turn around, you little slut.”

He had every right to call me a slut, and I held the title proudly as I turned to face his desk. He took hold of my shoulders, bending me over his tidy desk. As I supported myself with my hands flat on his desktop, he flicked my skirt up over my ass to rest on my lower back.

I felt his hand run across the firm, smooth cheeks of my ass and pluck at the tiny string that issued from between my legs to join the equally tiny string that encircled my waist.

“Oh, yesss,” he breathed, “a very naughty girl indeed. His palm glided tenderly over the tight skin of my ass. “You must bow to your maker and repent!” placing a loud emphases on repent, as his hand came down against my ass, a glancing blow, just enough to sting a little.

I bit my lower lip and looked at him over my shoulder. “Yes, Pastor Greg…Show me the way…bring me to the light.”

He gave me another glancing slap on the other cheek, then two more in quick successions. With each blow, I jerked forward a little and gasped. When my cheeks reddened, he ran his hand smoothly across my stinging ass, caressing, soothing.

“The ways of the world,” he said as he slipped his hand down between my thighs, “are steeped in sin.” And in my own sinful way I spread my legs slightly to give him better access as he caressed my pussy through my sopping thong. “They are pernicious,” he continued as he slipped the fabric of my thong to one side, using his fingers to massage and stroke my damp, smooth, delicate petals beneath.

“You must be purged, girl,” he went on as his fingers slowly circled my engorged clit, “of your licentiousness,” as his thumb eased between the wet lips of my pussy and found the entrance to my vagina, “and lust,” as he pushed his thumb deep into my slick tunnel.

The thought of fucking this preacher right here in his church was so deliciously wicked and hot that I could already feel myself on the verge of orgasm. “Yes, Pastor…yes. Show me what I must do.”

Stepping up behind me, he pulled my thong to one side and slid his cock between my legs, rubbing it back and forth along the channel of my labia. He slid easily as my juices saturated it. I wanted his cock inside my pussy, and more and more as he continued to rub. I bent down further, arching my ass to give him a better angle, and reached between my legs to catch his throbbing cock and guide it into my pussy.

When he felt the entrance of my hot, wet pussy, he said, “You must let Him enter.” At the word ‘enter’, he pushed forward, sliding into me like a hand slowly filling a glove.

“Oh, you feel so big!” I cried out as I felt my pussy stretch.

“Big things come to those who are humble. Are you humble, Gina?”

“Oh yes…yes, I’m so fucking humble right now,” I whimpered as he stretched my cunt.

My pussy easily conformed to the size and shape of his cock when he bottomed out. It felt so good, so long, round and hard, I couldn’t resist clenching to it as I adjusted to this invasion. My arousal ratcheted up, bringing me closer to my peak. I moved my hand forward a little between my legs and started rubbing my bliss-button in rapid little circles. Just a little more…just a little more.

He shoved my t-shirt up, pulling it over my chest, letting my luscious globes bobble free underneath. Capturing my tit in his hand, he caressed it while he started a slow steady thrusting, feeling powerful, sinking deep, gradually picking up the pace until he was pounding in and out of me at a very fast pace. For several minutes the only sounds in the room were the grunts, and groans, and the rhythmic slapping of flesh between two bodies as his abdomen met my ass with each stroke while his swinging balls were tapping at my clit.

I groaned from the pleasure of his fingers squeezing and tweaking my nipple with one hand while the other tangled and twisted my hair around his fist. He pulled my hair like the reins of a horse, drawing my head back and up. I felt decadent, depraved to be bent over a preacher’s desk with him man-handling me and fucking me from behind.

The sensations from his nipple-play sparked like electricity flowing through a wire connected directly to my clit, enhancing and reinforcing the exquisite feelings that were emanating there from the slid and glide of his cock in and out of my tight walls. Passion flowed through my veins as my heart raced wildly, and pleasure burned like hot coals inside my belly, getting stoked with every stroke of his hard throbbing cock.

When it happened it hit me like a tidal wave. The low moan growing in my throat, quickly grew louder and pitched higher. My fingers sped on my clit, whipping back and forth like a mad violinist. Finally I screamed, “I’m…I’m…I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” as my climax crashed through me, driving me under like an ocean of undercurrent, drowning in pleasure and euphoria.

My chest was heaving and my arms could not support me any longer. I collapsed, mashing my breasts against the top of his desk. Understanding what had just happened, Pastor Greg slowed his piston and stopped, standing with his rod buried deep inside me while he enjoyed the spasmodic clenching and contractions of my vaginal walls around his hard throbbing cock.

When my spasms eased, he withdrew entirely. I felt a sudden pang of loss, emptiness where a moment ago I had been full. He pulled me upright, kissed the top of my shoulder and the hollow of my neck, and whispered in my ear, “Are you cleansed, girl? Have all those evil, lustful, wicked demons been driven from your hot, gorgeous fucking body?”

“Ye…yes…yes, Pastor Greg,” I managed to mumble around sucking air into my lungs.

He nodded in turn. “Good, that’s very good, Gina. And now it is time to administer communion,” he said as he turned me to face him, and pushed me down onto my knees. “Taste, girl…open your mouth wide, and taste the goodness of virtue…”

Any virtue that we had was no longer in the room. I could only feel the lustful demons that surrounded me, urging me to open my mouth for his seed. This was something I had prior experience with and immensely enjoyed.

His hand encircled his shaft and he thrusted his glistening prick between my warm, soft, flushed lips and began pumping once more with shorter, shallow strokes. I brought all of my oral skills to task; stroking, twisting, sucking, licking. In short time he gave a sharp cry of release, and suddenly my mouth filled with warm, salty semen, so tasty and thick it begged my hunger.

His cock pulsed inside my mouth with each surge. I swallowed, and swallowed again as his balls emptied. My lips never ceased their hold on his knob until I sucked the last remaining drops of precious semen from his dilated meatus. Finally, I released his cock with a small slurping sound, and looked up into his dark, fiery eyes.

He drew me up from my knees and sat me gently in the chair, leaning in for a long, slow, sensuous kiss. “You have been saved,” he said down low, “but the devil is ever prowling the world like a devouring lion. I think we need to schedule regular session to make sure you stay on the path of righteousness. Don’t you agree?

I nodded with a scarlet flush burning in my cheeks and neck.

“Twice a week is probably better,” he said, straightening and pulled up his pants from around his ankles. 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. Would you agree to that?”

I nodded again as I was breathing more normally now. I straightened myself up and grabbed my rain coat, and kissed him for a long time before I left. “I’ll be looking forward to it,” I replied when the kiss ended.

On my way back to the car, I was already thinking about what I would wear on Tuesday. And at some point I was going to let him know that I had fallen in love with him. We continued on throughout the summer, two and three times a week, meeting privately, until he proposed to me.

And that was how I became the preacher’s wife. I delayed my college education for a time and followed the path of ministry alongside my husband, Pastor Greg. And, of course, my mother was delighted that I married a preacher.