Reluctantly Deflowered by Pastor Graham (3 page)

“And what's the other part?”

“That's, that's kind of personal.”

“And it's causing you to not want to marry my
son, correct?”

“Uh.”

“Is it another boy?”

“No,” I said. He was getting far too close to
the truth for my comfort and it must have shown in some way. Maybe
on my face, maybe a nervous tick. Above all, I couldn't stop myself
from thinking about him, his arms, his broad chest. I had made a
mistake in coming to the object of my desires for assistance. “Not
exactly.”

“Then what is it?” He scowled at me and stood
up. The effect was brutally efficient, as he loomed over me with a
presence I'd never seen in anyone, ever, not even my father. I
sniffled as I fought back tears.

“Thoughts,” I said. “Unclean thoughts. Sexual
thoughts.” There, it was out, to my unending shame.

His visage changed. The scowl remained, but
the predatory look I'd seen earlier returned, and it was focused
wholly on me. He rounded the desk and stood in front of me. I
couldn't bear to look him in the eye, so I took a page from Danny
and stared at my shoes.

“I see,” he said. “It's not unnatural to have
these kinds of thoughts, Maggie. Everyone does.”

“Really?” I said, not quite believing that he
wasn't furious with me. “But,”

“Have you acted on them?”

“Sometimes,” I said. “When I'm alone.”

“But you haven't had relations with the
object of these thoughts, correct?”

“Yes, I mean, no, I haven't.”

“Then you haven't sinned, Maggie,” he said,
and my heart lifted. “You are guilty of being a curious young
lady.”

I could have left it at that, could have
walked away, and I would probably have been fine. Instead, I
blurted out, “But its you I have these thoughts about, Pastor.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I, I,” I said, bursting into a fresh
round of tears.

He squatted down and cupped my face with his
hand. It was rough, callused from hard work, but it felt like silk
against my skin. The beast rose up within me, fueled by his touch
and my sinful lust. Our eyes met and I saw naked, raw hunger in
his, and I knew that I was lost.

“We'll have to do something about that,
Maggie,” he said, his free hand on my knee. “And Danny can never
know.”

“What?”

“There's only one way to exorcise these
demons, Maggie,” he said, rising to his full height in front of me.
He was beautiful, but I couldn't do this. In church?

He didn't answer me, instead, he walked to
the door and locked it. My mind was a flurry of fear and shame. I
couldn't sin in church, not like this, but I was caught in the
throes of desire. This was what I wanted, for this man of God to
take me and use me and show me the ways of the flesh.

He approached the back of my chair and placed
his hands on my shoulders. I flinched at his touch, but still he
was silent. He reached further down, to the top button of my blouse
and unfastened it. Then, slowly, agonizingly, he repeated the
process, until my blouse was undone. I shivered, exposed to a man
for the first time.

He took the blouse off and pushed me forward.
I was in such a state of shock that I didn't put up a fight. Pastor
Graham unhooked my bra and took it off. Horrified, I covered my
naked breasts as he spun me around in the chair to face him.

“Put your hands down, Maggie,” he said. Such
was the force of his voice that I did it without question. My pussy
was wet with desire, already, and growing wetter with each passing
moment.

He knelt in front of me, a penitent man at
worship. I tried to protest, to deny him, to deny what I was
feeling, but he took my nipple in his mouth and sucked at it. I
moaned, consumed by pleasure. I grabbed the back of his head and
wove my fingers into his thick, dark hair as he nibbled and suckled
on my tits. It was everything I'd fantasized about, only
better.

He hiked up my skirt, revealing the wanton
slut within me as I twisted and squirmed in the chair. It felt like
I was on fire, my nipples wet with his saliva as he alternated
between them, teasing them until they were rock hard. His hand
found my panties, soaked in the juices of my shame, my arousal, and
I whimpered. His touch was electric, and, when he caressed my clit
with his finger, I arched my back in response.

He backed off, grabbed my skirt in both hands
and tore it from me. I was shocked, nearly naked and spread out
like a whore for Pastor Graham. He said nothing, fixing me with his
eyes as he grabbed the waistband of my panties.

“Oh, Pastor Graham,” I said. “No, we can't do
this.”

“We can, Maggie,” he said and pulled. I
opened my mouth to protest again, but he covered it with one
mammoth hand as his own mouth descended on my virgin pussy. My eyes
widened as the tip of his tongue traced a trail between my folds.
It was sweet and agonizing, a teasing hint of unending pleasure. He
removed his hand and pulled me forward, granting himself full
access to my dripping snatch.

And I was powerless in his grasp. His mouth
was a wild, wonderful thing, sucking at my clit as his tongue
flogged it. I mewled and twisted, grinding my hips up into that
magic orifice as he ate me. The pressure built within me, furious
and ready to be unleashed. He could sense it, and he attacked my
swollen clit with his tongue, pressing, swirling, and massaging it
as I skittered toward oblivion.

It hit me hard. I grabbed his head once more
and pulled him toward me as my body shook and shimmied in the
throes of my thunderous orgasm. It was better than anything I'd
ever felt.

“Oh, God!” I cried. I could no longer fight
my sinful nature. It had taken me over and I wanted more, much
more.

He rose, his mouth wet with my desire.

“Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord in
vain, Maggie,” he said, and I blanched. What was he going to do to
me? “I guess you'll have to do penance.”

“No, Pastor Graham,” I said, watching in
horror as he unzipped his fly. His member was stiff and thick, and,
God help me, I wanted it, but I was sure that my inexperience would
only make him angry.

“You let me worry about that,” he said,
grabbing my head and pulling me toward him. “You worry about
wrapping your lips around my cock.”

I flushed beet red at the mention of the
word. “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I can't. I never,”

“You'll learn, girl. Now do as I say,” he
said.

I opened my mouth and he guided it to his
engorged dick. The chair creaked as it leaned forward under my
weight. The tip slip past my lips and into my wet and waiting
mouth. I sucked at it, softly at first, but harder as I heard the
Pastor's groans. It became a game. I took him deeper, licking the
underside of his shaft as his dick grew in my mouth. I bobbed up
and down, covering his shaft with my saliva and thoroughly enjoying
his reaction.

He grabbed my hair, twisting it up in his
strong fingers and bringing tears to my eyes. I looked up at him,
and the desire in his eyes mirrored my own. He took control from
me, thrusting his cock into my mouth in rapid strokes, each one a
little deeper than the last. It should have horrified me, but I was
so entrenched in my sin that it made me even hotter. He plunged
further, the head of his dick brushing the back of my throat.

I gagged.

He held it there, cutting off my air supply
as I struggled to control my reflexes. I grew lightheaded and my
vision started to fade. He pulled back, taking his cock from my
mouth as I sputtered and gasped for oxygen. His cock quivered in
front of my face, glistening with my saliva. I wanted it inside
me.

“Very, very good,” he said, unbuckling his
pants and letting them drop to the floor. I stayed in the chair,
gulping down air as he stripped off his shoes and underwear. “Danny
is a lucky boy.”

His legs were taut and well muscled and I
remembered that he had once been a logger, a profession once common
in the area until the timber companies over cut. He picked me up by
my hair, fully in control as he pulled me over to his desk. A
jumble of thoughts ran through my head, and I was unsure about the
act we were going to perform.

“Pastor,” I said. “I don't think I can. I
mean,”

“Can what, Maggie?”

“Do this.”

“Of course you can,” he said. The wood was
cool against my bare breasts, and Pastor Graham's hand moved down
to the small of my back, pressing me down onto the hard, unyielding
surface. “And once you do, your demons will be gone.”

He forced me to splay my legs out, his hand
pressing against the inside of my thigh and drawing a moan from me.
I knew it was wrong. I knew it was a sin. But I had to have this
man's cock inside of me. It was driving me crazy.

“Relax,” he said. I felt his hard rod against
my thigh as he positioned himself. The head parted the wet folds of
my snatch and I clawed at the desk, ravenous and longing to be
fucked. It pressed against the entrance to my tight, little hole
and I wiggled my hips in an attempt to force it into me. Then he
took it away.

I lost my mind for a moment and pounded on
the desk in frustration. My frustration turned to pain as Pastor
Graham's hand came down on my ass, hard. It reminded me of another
time he had punished me. That was about the time I'd become
obsessed with the man. I cried out with each slap, the sound of his
hand on my fleshy buttocks echoed off of the walls of the small
office and rang in my ears. The pain and the denial made me even
more wanton.

“Penance,” Pastor Graham said. “For taking
the Lord's name in vain. For cheating on your husband to be.” Each
phrase was punctuated by a smack. I felt dirty, loathsome. It
should have made me ashamed, but it only made me want his cock
more.

“Now that we've taken care of that,” Pastor
Graham said. His cock pressed ahead again, torturing me with its
proximity to my thoroughly soaked snatch. “We can exorcise your
demons properly.”

“Look at how wet you are,” Pastor Graham
said. I started to reply, but the head of his dick entered my pussy
and my reply turned into a keening moan. It hurt, just a little,
but it felt so good that I could barely contain myself. He held it
there, stretching my poor little pussy out as I squirmed under his
hand, lewdly impaled by his thick cock.

“There we go,” he said, pressing forward. The
shaft was a little smaller than the head, so my cunt closed around
it as he worked his way deeper into me. My fingernails dug into the
wood of the desk, but Pastor Graham paid it no mind. I felt a sharp
pinch as he pushed forward, and then it was gone. My derriere still
throbbed, but it was just background noise to the new sensations he
subjected me to.

His thighs met my ass, and I could feel his
whole cock inside of me. It was indescribable, being filled so
completely by this man of God. He pulled back and I closed my eyes.
Colors seemed to explode in the darkness as he fucked me with long,
slow strokes. He paused at the apex, the large head of his dick
teasing my tight hole before he plunged deeper. I groaned and
whimpered each time, my brow breaking out in sweat.

He leaned forward, so that I could smell the
clean, honest scent of a real man. It was hard to place, no
cologne, no perfumed aftershave, just clean and musky. He quickened
his pace, rocking the desk back and forth as he used me. My moans
grew louder, too loud to be contained by the small room. He let off
of my back and grabbed me by the hair, pulling me up to him as he
continued to fuck me.

“Do you like that, Maggie?” he whispered in
my ear. “Do you like being used like a whore?”

I was shocked, but it only added to my lust.
“Yes,” I said, unable to deny what I was feeling. “I like it.”

He forced my head back down and put his hands
on my hips. His thick fingers bit into my flesh as he held me in
place. His powerful haunches worked even harder, fucking my virgin
cunt with a ferocity that surprised me. The desk screeched across
the wood floor and I feared it would collapse. It felt fantastic.
Each powerful thrust drove me deeper into the pit of my desire, and
closer to climax. The slapping sound of flesh on flesh mingled with
my cries of pleasure as he fucked me into oblivion.

It built quickly, driven by the combination
of his words and the intense, hard fucking he delivered. I couldn't
hold on any longer and went over the edge.

“Ahhh! I'm coming,” I screamed. It was harder
than before, and my vision washed out for a split second as I lost
control of my body. I could feel my little cunt squeeze his thick
rod, and it only seemed to prolong my pleasure. He held it inside
of me, glorying in the quivering mess he'd created of me.

It ended, and I was spent. Sweat seemed to
ooze out of every pore. He pulled his cock out of me and I sighed,
sorry to see the source of my lust go. I needn't have worried,
though. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up, and my desire
rose again with the rough treatment. He spun me around and picked
me up. I was like a doll in his hands, ready to be twisted and
turned in any way he saw fit. He dropped me, sitting, on the desk
and pulled me forward, toward his cock.

“I want to see your face when I put my seed
inside of you,” he said.

My mouth dropped open. I couldn't believe
what I just heard. “Pastor, no,” I said. What if I got pregnant?
What about Danny? “You might get me pregnant.”

“You'll be married in a week,” he said,
pushing me down. “Now hush, girl.”

I pushed myself up, but found his hand at my
throat, forcing me back down. It should have scared the shit out of
me, and it did, but it also made me hotter. I wanted more, and, God
help me, I wanted his seed. He slid into me again.

“Ohhh!” I moaned, lost in a sea of pleasure
once more.

There was no slow beginning, no breaking in,
this time. He plunged forward, burying his cock as deep into my
pussy as it would go. I whimpered, tired but hurtling toward yet
another orgasm. It was nearly too much for me. His cock rammed in
and out of my cunt, the wetness spreading to the inside of my
thighs as he drew me deeper into the fires of damnation. His hand
tightened around my throat, just barely cutting off my air.