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Archive-name: Dreams/preacher.txt

Archive-author: Cross Fire

Archive-title: Preacher

  There  have  been many stories in the newspapers in the last  few  years

  about  preachers  that have gotten themselves  in  sexual  relationships

  outside  what  their particular religious group thought  was  right  and

  holy.   I am going to try and write a few stories about the life of  one

  preacher that found his position as clergy helped him get into many  new

  and  exciting  positions.  Hope you enjoy this piece of fiction,  if  so

  leave a word of encouragement for CROSS FIRE.

  Sunday  would soon  be upon me.  It is now late Saturday night  and  the

  Sunday sermon is no where to be found.  I sit huddled over my desk in my

  darken  office  studying.  I was preaching through the book of  Song  of

  Solomon  because the lexicon has it as the next text.  I had  read  many

  books  trying to push all of the erotic images into a symbol of God  and

  Israel  yet I could not keep my mind from seeing the naked lust  of  the


  "My beloved is gone down into his garden,

   to the beds of spices,

   to feed in the gardens,

   and to gather lilies.

   I am my beloved's,

   and my beloved is mine:

   he feedeth among the lilies."

  How  could this be God and Israel unless God has a desire to  give  oral

  sex to His nation?  No, this is clearly a man and woman who are in love.

  Ready  to share all that they are to give sexual pleasure to the  other.

  How  am  I to share an experience that I have never had?  How  am  I  to

  teach the text rightly without offending the parish?

  As  these  thoughts  of concern and sexuality dance through  my  head  I

  leaped  like  a child caught looking at a Playboy magazine as  a  gentle

  knock is heard from the outside door.  I cannot imagine who it could be.

  No one knows that I am here.  No one ever comes to the parish door  this

  late at night...unless it is some free loader looking for a handout from


  I  went to the door ready to share my basic "I can't help you more  then

  $10.00 worth line."  When I open the door the most beautiful red  haired

  girl was standing in the door way.  She had on a pair of old faded jeans

  that  clung  tightly to her well formed body, she wore a  bluejean  vest

  that  button up the front.  The first few buttons were  undone  exposing

  her lily white skin.  By the imprint her nipples made in the material of

  the  vest  I could tell that her breast were ample and free of  any  re-

  straints.  I asked her to come in and be sited.  I said, "How may I help

  you my child?"

  She looked right through me with her bright round blue eyes.  It was  as

  if  she could read the lust that was bury deep inside my soul.  I  began

  to  sit  down behind my desk to hid the hard member that had  sprung  to

  live  in  my pants.  Then she spoke.  Her voice was soft but  firm.   It

  carried innocents and the knowledge of the world.  The sultry flavor  of

  her voice would cause any mortal to obey.

  "No,  sit  over  here near me," she said has she pointed to  one  of  the

  lounge  chairs  that  were in my office for when  I  did  counseling  of


  I  sat slowly into the soft high back chair and asked again in  a  timid

  voice, "How may I help you?"

  "I am here to help you."  She answered.

  She  took  a step toward me.  She was now barely arms  reach  away.    I

  began  to smell the fragrance of sweet perfume flow from  her  presence.

  She  reached up with one delicate hand pull the streaming red hair  from

  her  face.   She cocked her head to the side as she looked at  me.   She

  knew that I was hypnotized by her beauty.  As I watched her moist tongue

  left  her  mouth  and traveled from one side of her lusty  lips  to  the

  other.   Her  lips  glowed with wetness.  Her hands  began  to  rub  the

  outside  of her vest.  Her nipples seems to be trying to  burst  through

  the  material.  She started lifting her nipples one at a time  with  her

  fingers.   With each pinch she smiled at the reaction she was  receiving

  from me.

  At  this point my breathing was getting heavy.  Perspiration was  on  my

  brow.   I  knew that I should stop her but my own desire cried  out  for


  The  red haired beauty took one hand and ran it inside of her vest,  now

  fondling  her bare breast.  The other hand began turning the buttons  of

  the vest slowly through the holes that held them.

  In  my mind I was helping her remove the buttons.  Mentally begging  her

  to loosen another one and then another one.

  Soon  the vest open and she was rubbing breast with a  passionate  fury.

  She  held  them out to me as if to present them for  my  approval.   Her

  voice broke the long silence, "Kiss my breast."

  She stepped closer to me.  She brought her breast right to my mouth like

  a mother feeding her hunger baby.  "Suck it," she said.

  Without hesitation I began to suck, lick, and kiss her pert mounds.  Her

  nipple  sliding in and out of my mouth.  I would suck in as much of  her

  soft flesh has I could take into my mouth at one time.  Then allow it to

  slide out of my suction grasp just to have my tongue follow.  My  tongue

  followed around the red button, down across the valley, and then I would

  began again.  Suck, lick, kiss, and switch.

  She  began  to roll her head around in small circles.  A soft  moan  was

  escaping from her lips.  Her long red hair would stroke across my hungry

  face with each forward roll.

  She forces my mouth away from her breast.  I had not noticed but while I

  was  feasting  upon the strangers fruits she had undone  her  pants  and

  somehow slide the tight jeans over and off her body.  She pulled  gently

  on  my  hands.  I stood to my feet.  She circled me, so that now  I  was

  standing were she had been and she was were I had been.  She placed  her

  arms on my shoulders and said, "Kneel before me my love."

  As I knelt she sat down into the chair I had been seated in.  What I saw

  before  me  was  a mound of soft, pink, moisten flesh.   The  flesh  was

  aflame  with  the fire of bright red hair and  unfulfilled   lust.   The

  smell rising from her womanhood was like sweet wine.  She had no need to

  say  anything.   I  bury my face to the delicate of  her  delights.   My

  tongue found her harden bud.  I lick it slowly and firmly.  Even my  hot

  breathing  seem to cause her to get more aroused.  Her juices were  like

  sweet  honey in my mouth.  I began to do for her pussy what I  had  done

  for  her breast.  I would suck in has much of her pussy has I could  get

  into  my mouth.  I could fell her feminine lips slide pass my  lips.   I

  could  fell her harden clitoris enter my mouth with some of  her  bright

  hair.   I  would suck hard and taste her juices enter  my  mouth.   Then

  slowly  I would release my hold, allowing the wet pussy to  slide  free,

  only  to meet my tongue on her clitoris again.  Over and over I  sucked,

  and licked and sallowed.

  My red hair stranger was going wild in the chair before me.  I heard her

  crying  out.   "Suck me, Suck me.  Eat my pussy.  Drink my  cum.   Don't

  stop.  No, never, don't stop."

  There  was no need for her orders I was not going to release  her.   Her

  excitement was also driving me to an orgasm.  The thought of giving  her

  such  pleasure was causing me to hump the air like a dog in heat.  As  I

  excited  her, it excited me, which cause me excite her more.  The  cycle

  continued to a hard climax.  With one final sucking pull on my beautiful

  strangers pussy she let out a unintelligent groan,  her legs put a tight

  lock  around my head, and her whole body quivered for  several  seconds.

  At  the same time I fill my pants with a large load of hot white  cream.

  She released her hold on me and I sank to the floor, exhausted with  the

  joyful effort of giving pleasure to my red hair stranger.

  I passed  out in the floor.  I was awaken by a knock on my door.  It  was

  one  of  the elders of the church asking, "Pastor, are  you  all  right?

  Services have already begun.  Aren't you going to preach this morning?"

  Yes  I brought my sermon that morning.  Everyone said it was one to  the

  best  explanation of Song of Solomon as a symbol of God and Israel  they

  had  ever heard.  When services were over I could not decided if it  had

  all be a dream or if it was real.  I went into my private bathroom still

  confused.  When I opened my pants there was still a stain from the night



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