The minister's family

CHAPTER TWO

Bradley sat at the kitchen table now with a drink. It was something he rarely did except on social occasions but he felt he deserved something after the day he had had and after that erotic dream. Good grief, had the phone call prompted him to dream in such an incredibly lewd manner? It was totally sinful to even entertain such thoughts about his wife.

He let his thoughts wander back to the allegations and the men involved. Why did they get involved in something like this that could ruin them? Were these older men so crazy for sex? He thought of his own little daughter being involved. For a brief moment he wondered what it would be like to copulate with a child of twelve… with your own daughter. What would it be like? But then the minister pushed the obscenely vile imagining from his mind.

He sipped his drink again, felt the soothing oblivion it brought slipping over him, closed his eyes. When he opened them Julie was standing in front of him, with a bottle of brandy in her hand.

Wordlessly, he handed the glass to her. He shook his head. Dear God, he was a minister and he was just as filled with sinful thoughts as the men he was trying to expose. Here he had the greatest little wife in the world, and he was sitting around fantasizing about screwing a baby no older than his own daughter. It was perverted, sinful!

Julie poured herself a drink and slid down onto the couch next to him. She was wearing a pale blue tailored dress that set off the sheen of her shoulder length straight hair, making it glisten like spun gold. Although of modest design, it clung to her like a glove, pulling so tight across the firm mounds of her breasts that he could see the taut, hard nipples outlined beneath it. With one hand she held her drink up to his, clicked glasses with him and said, "Here's cheers." Her other hand was busy smoothing her skirt down over her knees, a perpetual habit of hers. "Must have been some dream, Brad," she said cheerfully, "the way you were grunting and groaning in your sleep…"

"Last time I crash at eight," he repeated without elaborating on the dream.

"Hi Mom, hi Dad," Janice called from the kitchen as she banged in the back door. "Do we have anything to make a sandwich out of, I'm starving."

"There's some leftover meat loaf," Julie said.

"For heaven's sake, Janice, do you have to go around half-naked?" her father fumed when she flounced into the room wearing a pair of white shorts that barely covered the twin half-moons of her buttocks.

"Oh, Dad, I was playing volleyball. What do you think I'm going to wear, a shroud or something?" She laughed cheekily and whirled around while Bradley stared at her. She looked so like her mother! Younger of course and tinier, slimmer. But her face had the same perfect features, the high cheekbones, the generous mouth, pert nose, that her mother's had. And her figure was as perfect as the older woman's, too. Her ripe young firm breasts were smaller, just as round, just as firm. Her hips and thighs were full, too, but somewhat slimmer than Julie's, more coltish and her waist was tiny. But it sloped in the same exciting way to the hips, and the smooth little mounds of her ass-cheeks quivered now under the miniscule shorts that composed her outfit.

Julie looked over at her husband. "What on earth is the matter with you, tonight? You're so testy. Did something happen at school today or something?"

The minister waited until his daughter went into the kitchen and started banging around making her sandwich. "Well, I had a very strange phone call this morning and when I told the dean about it, he just brushed it off."

"I wonder why." Julie's eyes were wide, puzzled.

"No idea. There's something odd. He didn't show any inclination at all to have this allegation investigated."

"What was the phone call about, Brad?"

"It was about orgies taking place at the old School Board offices."

A look of shock, a little shudder of horror passed over her face. "Orgies?"

"Yes," Brad's voice was dull, dispirited.

"How did this anonymous phone caller know about it?"

"Apparently, he says, he heard it from one of the youngsters involved… a kid… Janice's age… and the things they were doing to her…"

"What things?" Julie's eyes were wide again, her voice scarcely more than a whisper.

"I don't want to talk about it. Julie. It's so sinful. Lewd and evil, that's all. I can't tell you. You wouldn't want to hear such disgusting things."

The minister sat staring across the room. He didn't want to talk about the things that went on at the School Board offices, but he couldn't help thinking about them. Once again, he thought of what he'd heard of a young girl lying on a bed, her slim white thighs spread wide while some dirty old man ran his fingers along the sensitive skin up between them, stopped at the little triangle of curly pubic hair, teased at it, and licked his middle finger towards the glistening hole half hidden within. Lord, he could almost see it, almost see the lewd expression on the man's face, as he traced the narrow slit of her cunt, then stopped to burrow in between the moist warm walls. He could almost see the leers on the faces of the men watching… how many would be there? Five or six? A dozen? He didn't know, but he knew one thing for sure; he'd like to expose these perverts and prosecute them to the full extent of the law.

Did all the men out there stay in the room with the girl and the man who were copulating so obscenely? Or were they watching through the two way mirrors that the caller said they had out there? Reverend Corman had never seen anything remotely like a two way mirror but he'd heard about such things. Dear God, the whole idea made him practically violently ill. He got up, started pacing restlessly back and forth, got himself another drink, and drained it in practically one swallow.

"Well, if you don't want to," she said.

"It's not just the story, Julie," he said, shaking his head.

"Then what?"

Brad couldn't tell her. Merciful heavens! She was so good and decent; the kind of wife any man was lucky to have. A wonderful woman, the very best. How could he talk to her about such depravity, such filth. She wouldn't even understand. What if he told her about some of the other things that went on there… at least, what he had heard… the way some men like to lick the pussies of these little girls.

They would get them on a bed, and spread their legs out, and begin by running their tongues over the snowy mounds of their round little breasts, stopping long enough to fasten their mouths on the tiny ruby-like buds of their throbbing nipples, licking them into a taut erection. And then they would begin to race the narrow valley between the two firm spheres, running their tongues the length of it, running them down, too, over the youngster's slightly swelling belly. It would be a matter of moments before the man would have his head poised above the little patch of softly curling pussy hair that lay between her widespread thighs. And then it would flash forward, and his tongue would dart out, to slip deeply into the narrow channel there. He couldn't tell Julie that. In fact, he couldn't even stay in the living room with his wife any longer.

"I'm. going to sit out in the back yard for a while. You go on to bed."

Julie looked puzzled but didn't question her husband even when he slammed out the back door with the brandy bottle under his arm.

Corman wandered around his back yard for awhile, then sat down on the porch swing. He was all alone and it wasn't a cool night. He put his head in his hands, closing his eyes, trying to set his mind on church matters instead of the orgies he was certain were taking place even as he sat here, out at the School Board offices. He tried to concentrate on his daughter, on his wife, but his mind kept slipping back to the scenes that were being enacted right that moment.

Just as in his dream, there was something about the idea that began to send little ripples of arousal up his spine, to make his balls ache, his penis jerk and lurch. He tried to think it hadn't happened, wasn't happening, tried to put the sinful thoughts out of his mind. But the bulge in his pants was proof that it was physical as well as mental. The reverend felt an obscene tingling in his balls as he thought of innocent young girl's legs spread nakedly in front of the older man who teased and licked her moistly squirming pussy while dozens of men watched hungrily!

The disturbed minister closed his eyes and seemed to see Julie lying in bed, beneath him. God, he thought, what would she do if he did anything like that to her… ran his tongue down over her voluptuous body, sent it slithering deep inside her… Holy Father! What was the matter with him? He was a man of God, his wife was a fine woman, and they loved each other as decent people should and here he was thinking about these lewd and forbidden practices that only heathens and anti-Christians practiced.

He closed his eyes, clenching his fists, trying to turn his thoughts to something else. But the image of all the perverted acts going on up at the School Board refused to disappear. What would it be like?

He felt the excitement again, felt the tingling in his balls, the throbbing there, felt that it would drive him crazy if he stayed there on the porch swing any longer. He poured himself another drink and downed it as he had the other ones. He didn't normally drink! What on earth was the matter with him? The usually mild-mannered minister was angry at the dean, that was one thing but there was more to it than that. He dared not mention his lewd thoughts but what he really wanted to do was to fuck Julie silly, throw her down and fuck her until she couldn't walk! Do everything to her, too, that he'd never dared to do. Maybe he was a minister… but he was a man, too and he wanted to do things that a man did!

Wearily, Brad got up from the swing and went into the kitchen latching the back door. He stumbled a little and for the first time he realized that he was rather drunk. He turned the light on noticing that the whole house was by this time in darkness. Julie must be asleep but he didn't want her asleep. He wanted his wife to be the woman in his dream earlier that evening.

He bumped into the bedroom door and he could already feel the stiff hard bulge of his penis, rigid as an iron rod, pulsing hotly against the cotton fabric of the pajamas he was still wearing. Well, by heavens, he was going to sleep in the nude tonight! He pulled off his bottoms and let them fall to the floor. His desire-hardened cock sprang forth, suddenly free, jutting out before him. He stood for a minute, staring first at his throbbing rod of flesh then at the quiet form of his wife, lying still under the blankets. Her eyes were closed as if she were asleep and he wondered if she really was.

"Julie?" he muttered.

She lay still, eyes closed as tightly as ever. Why did she have to play dead, tonight of all nights? She'd done it often enough before, he knew, but he wasn't in the mood for it now. In an uncustomary aggressive action, he ripped the blankets back off her outstretched body, then seized the nightgown she wore, jerking it up to her shoulders.

Her eyes fluttered open, the bewildered look in them changing quickly to one of fear. "Brad!" she cried. "What are you doing? What do you want?"

"What do you think I want?" he shot back. And when she covered her mouth to stifle a scream, he snapped, "I want to fuck you, that's what I want!"

An expression of disgust filtered across her face and she pursed her lips and turned her head away. "Really, Bradley," she reprimanded primly. "It's not like you to be so vulgar."

"That's how I feel."

"Bradley, you're drunk," Julie said. She slid across the bed right to the other side. "I think you should sleep on the day bed."

"I'm going to sleep with my wife and I'm going to fuck her senseless."

She gave another little cry of alarm as he lunged forward; seizing the nightgown again. Suddenly, he flung himself on the bed, hunching over her, while she cowered against the mattress, trying to burrow into it as if she could hide herself there. But his hands were all over her, running harshly, brutally almost, up and down her fearfully quivering body, squeezing her soft, sensitive flesh, kneading it until little white ridges of it stood out between his straining knuckles.

His head shot forward, and he fastened his mouth over her moist, warm lips. She gasped and struggled against him, and then his tongue darted forward, pressing relentlessly against her lips, forcing them apart, sliding into the warm, moist cavern of her mouth. His tongue flicked farther forward now, deep inside her mouth searching and exploring roughly and obscenely. She squirmed against him again, trying to free herself, but he pinned her down, and then, as suddenly as his tongue had crashed into her mouth, he withdrew it.

In a moment, his head had dropped to the small, ruby-like buds of her nipples, and once again his tongue shot out, to lick first one and then the other into a taut, quivering erection. Julie writhed beneath him, murmuring little protests, which only served to arouse the minister further. His teeth closed over the stiff little tips and he nibbled hungrily on them, while Julie moaned over and over. "Dear God… No… noo… Brad… stop it!"

The words fell on deaf ears. How many years had he waited to be satisfied to perform the sins he had dreamed about? Well tonight he would perform. Tonight, he would fuck his wife as she'd never been fucked before, and as she might never be fucked again. He lifted his head again and his face completely transformed into a mask of lust she'd never seen before, he let out a short obscene laugh as he gazed down at his wife's pale face.

He let his tongue trail slowly over her firm white breasts, then on down, over the slight swell of her naked belly, down toward the little patch of sparsely curling hair between her thighs. She arched her back, uttered another stifled cry, and pressed her legs close together. "Dear God, no!" she moaned. "Bradley, please! Not that!"

"Then, what way?" he growled at his wife, his eyes blazing with unsatisfied lust. "How would you like to be fucked?"

"Oh, Brad," she wailed.

"You don't want it anyway, do you?" he asked bitterly. Julie didn't answer, and suddenly he rolled on top of her, his heavy chest pinning her struggling, writhing body to the bed. Her legs scissored out as she thrashed beneath him, trying to free herself, and as they did, his hips fell heavily between her widespread thighs, and he pressed forward, forcing her jerking buttocks deep into the mattress. He felt the softness of her pubic hair grazing against his wildly throbbing cock, teasing tantalizing, until he thought he would go insane with lust.

The sexually-deranged minister wedged his knees up between hers, holding them wide apart, while his pelvis crashed against her defenselessly pinioned loins. He groaned as the electric contact sent flames of lustful fire shooting through his veins, felt the jump of his thickly rigid penis, that throbbed and ached unbearably.

His hand shot out to grasp the lust-stiffened length and guide it towards the small, glistening hole of his wife's cunt. She choked back a scream as she felt its blunt, bulbous head against the soft, tender lips of her unprepared pussy, felt it spread them open, thrust against the sensitive flesh until it found her clitoris.

Bradley began to massage the miniature phallus with the smooth, hard tip of his cock then moved it up and down the sensitive pussy slit. He arched back, leering drunkenly at her… Julie cringed fearfully beneath him. Then suddenly, lurched forward, aiming his lust-bloated penis at her moistly quivering hole.

His cock sank deep within her, scraping against the tight, dry walls of her vainly resisting cuntal walls, and she gasped, squirming as though she had been impaled on a torture instrument. Her agonized cry rang through the room, resounding in his ears, only to go unheeded. In his semi-drunken state he could think of nothing but his own satisfaction, and with another forward thrust he pushed his rock-hard staff deeper and deeper up into her warmly yielding flesh.

Julie lay helplessly beneath him, while tears of rage welled up in her eyes and flowed down her pale cheeks. She felt as if she were being torn apart inside by his entry. Again she pleaded with him. "Stop it… please… Bradley… stop this!"

Nothing could stop the minister. The thoughts of the story he'd heard of the lewd ravishment of the young girls had fired his own loins, aroused him beyond endurance and that coupled with the amount of alcohol he had consumed had stripped him of all his usual gentility. He pounded his hips deep into her, thrusting the thick cock in and out, oblivious to the cries of protest that spilled from her throat.

Brad rammed in and out, now, in and out, like a sex maniac, his lust-incited cock sinking into the hilt, until it seemed to Julie that it would reach her throat from the inside! He locked his mouth to hers, mashing her lips back against her teeth. Her tender breasts, the sensitive skin bruised from his torturing fingers, were crushed against his chest. He grunted, then slid his two hands under her softly quivering ass-cheeks, lifting them to meet him even more, and now his sperm-heavy balls slapped against her nakedly upturned crotch in a steady rhythmical pattern.

The crazed husband felt his throbbing, blood-engorged cock sunk all the way inside her trembling belly, begin to ache as it seemed to grow bigger and bigger. Lord above, his balls were throbbing too now, the pressure building up in them until he thought they would explode. He fucked deep into Julie's passage that was sore, now, and still dry, fucked until she was afraid his huge thick cock would split her in two, would tear her literally to bits. "Aaaaaiiii…! Stop it…! It's wicked… oh please…!" the minister's wife pleaded helplessly as his huge cock pistoned mercilessly in and out of her defenselessly ravished cunt!

She whimpered again, and then, as he pistoned in and out she felt the first faint stirrings of excitement begin to pulse through her. It grew quickly, seeming to set fire to her loins, and then to spread like leaping flames showering sparks in her racing blood. As the agonizing rapture began to take possession of her, she began to thrash and buck beneath her husband, rising to meet his pounding thrusts, moving her pelvis up against his hotly plunging cock.

Brad's hands slid beneath her gently undulating buttocks, spreading her cheeks wide, forcing her legs backwards, until her knees were bent nearly down to her heaving breasts, the full soft plane of her naked cunt exposed to his impaling shaft. The white-hot sperm in his lust-bloated balls began to churn insanely, and then he let out a long, loud shriek.

"Oooooooooooooooohhhh… aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh! Julie…! Aaaaahhh… I'm… ccccuuummmmiiinnngggggggg!"

Then with a monstrous thrust he drove his wildly climaxing cock all the way down inside her quivering belly, while the warm wet walls of her cunt wrapped tightly around it, clasping it as the hot, sticky load exploded from his sperm-tightened balls, surged the length of his penis to spurt forth into the narrow receptacle of her cunt.

Julie squirmed beneath him, bucking and sliding her wetly contracting pussy desperately up and down his still-hard penis, as her own ecstasy raged and mounted. She was almost there, had almost reached that pinnacle which had always been beyond her before, when suddenly he stopped.

"Noooooooooooo!" she wailed. "You can't stop yet!"

But she felt the slow withdrawal of his rapidly collapsing penis as he pulled it slowly from her still frantically sucking pussy, felt the emptiness begin to build within her that she seemed almost always to have known in her sex life. And then he rolled over beside her.

A feeling of helpless guilt flooded over the young minister. What kind of a Godless creature was he? He'd wanted Julie so much, he'd wanted to take her in the most depraved sinful way, wanted to treat her like a whore in the Bible. And wasn't that just what he'd done?

Guilt-ridden, the minister slid off the bed, hearing the faint sob that rose from her throat, seeing by the light of the moon, the shivers that shook her lovely body. He couldn't stand watching her, knowing that he was responsible. He put on his pajamas and then partially dressed, he stole quietly from the bedroom. At the door, he stopped, turning back to look at the pathetic figure of his wife lying on the bed, noting that Julie had pulled the thin blanket over herself once more, as if to hide her shame and humiliation beneath its warmth. "I'm so sorry," he said softly, but she didn't hear. He closed the door behind him and went into the living room. He sat there, huddled up on the sofa until morning, thinking… thinking…