The Circuit Rider

Fornication, damnation and hell fire. Those were my topics - in that order -and variations thereof were my main message. I had probably preached the same sermon - with slight variations - a thousand times in my days as a circuit riding preacher. Because I was a circuit rider my audience varied from week to week and since I served from six to eight churches I only had a to make variations every six or eight weeks.

If I sound cynical I was and, admittedly, that's not a good attribute for a man of the cloth. It hadn't always been so. As a bare-faced graduate of the Tonganoxie Bible College I had possessed, as the old preacher's were fond of saying, the fire in the belly. However, after more than 20 years of dealing with people in the real world the fire in my belly was provided mostly by the corn liquor I was able to acquire in my travels.

The Tonganoxie Bible College is no more. It closed it's doors shortly after I graduated in 1863. Tonganoxie was best known as the short-time capitol of Kansas. It held that lofty position for a brief time while the pro-slavers were in command of things but the capitol moved to Topeka when the Free-Staters took control. Of course when Kansas came into the Union as a free state it was one of the things that provoked the Civil War but that's another story.

Fresh out of seminary I answered the call of a small Presbyterian Church in the town of Hillsboro, Kansas and worked mightily to spread the word of the Lord and in the process began to discover how great a difference there was between the demeanor of people in the pews on Sunday and how they conducted themselves the rest of the week.

I grew to know the butcher who reveled in teaching the men's Sunday School class and regularly put his thumb on the scales in his shop. There was the banker who was a deacon in the church and a mover and shaker in the Chamber of Commerce. He put pocket change in the collection plate while charging usurious interest rates to people who could ill afford them and heartless when it came to foreclosing . I learned about the Doctor who gave generously in the offering plate and loved to examine young boys, paying particular attention to their penis and testicles. It was a small town and as a preacher I was often called upon to counsel my flock. The more I learned the more cynical I became.

I also learned that many women, single and married, lusted for a preacher - especially a young and unattached one. I was advised by my mentors to marry - it would advance my career and I assumed that I would when and if the right woman came along. I was a virgin, not uncommon for young seminary grads in those days.

My life changed after I decided to preach a series of sermons on the Ten Commandments. Ten Commandments, ten sermons. By the time I got to number seven - the big A - I was hitting my stride. I didn't lay it on too thick about fornication, that came later in my career but I must have made my point.

On Tuesday afternoon I was alone in my little office in that little church when an older woman walked in and I struck gold - or in this case, silver - in the form of Mrs. Sterling. She had silver hair and a regal bearing. She was the wife of the only lawyer in town and a very attractive older woman with a magnificent figure as far as I could ascertain from my frightfully lusty looks at her in church. She had been the object of many of my masturbation sessions. Yes, young ministers do masturbate.

I stood up when she approached my desk and said, "Mrs. Sterling, how nice to see you. How may I be of service?"

She sat down on the chair in front of my desk, straightened her dress, touched her hair self-consciously and said, "Reverend I have been thinking about your sermon this past Sunday and I need your help."

I was speechless for a moment and than said, "I'll be very glad to help you, if I can. Perhaps you can be more specific."

She paused and said, "I have committed adultery, I won't tell you when or with whom but that has let the devil get inside of me."

"Inside of you?"

"Yes, inside of me."

"Is the devil in your mind?"

"Lower."

"In your heart?"

"Lower than that."

"In your belly? Are you pregnant?"

"No thank God I'm not. Do I have to tell you explicitly where the devil is?"

"I think I get the picture."

"Good," she said and neither of us spoke for perhaps a minute. Then I took a deep breath and said, "Mrs. Sterling I'm not sure how I can help you. Presbyterians don't do exorcisms as I am sure you are well aware."

She paused and then smiled craftily at me and said "I thought perhaps another man's seed, some sanctified seed as it were, would drive the devil's seed out of me."

"But can't your hu.. hu.. husband do that?"

"Mr. Sterling, I fear, has not fulfilled his husbandly duties for several years. Why do you think I committed adultery."

My mind began to race. Either this woman was very stupid and ill-informed or she was trying to seduce me. I opted for the latter and, being a young man and still a virgin decided to see where this would lead. I would like to say that I prayed about and pondered this decision for some time but that would be a lie and a violation of the 9th commandment.

"Mrs. Stu...Stu...Sterling, what are you proposing?

"You're an intelligent young man. I think you'll figure it out. I might add that I've noticed the way you look at me in church. It's extremely flattering."

Busted. I paused and said, "What should I do?"

"You can start by taking off your clothes."

"You want to see my, my"

She interrupted me to say, "How delightfully naive you are. I want to see your cock, your prick, your tool, whatever you choose to call it."

I paused and smiled and said, "Alright, I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours."

"That seems fair," she said and pulled up her dress. She was wearing silk hose, apparently held up by a garter belt. She had great legs meeting at her groin which was covered by a thatch of abundant black hair.

She touched her head and than her crotch and said, "You'll notice that there may be snow on the mountain top but there's fire down below. Now get undressed and show me what you've got for me."

I stood up and began to undress. She stood up and took off her dress. She stood before me naked except for her garter belt, stockings and shoes. Her breasts were full with but a bit of sag, crowned by luscious looking erect pink nipples. Her belly had some matronly paunch but she was magnificent looking and the first nude, or almost nude woman I had ever seen.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"Good God Almighty," I said and then I realized that I'd just violated the third commandment.

I hastily removed the rest of my clothes while she looked at me lovingly and expectantly. When I was naked she looked me up and down and said, "It appears that the bible is not the only impressive tool in the preacher's arsenal. Come here, now."

I walked around my desk and stood in front of her. "May I touch your breasts?" I asked.

She nodded her head and said, "Be my guest."

I put my eager hands tenderly upon her massive orbs and lightly touched her nipples.

"Harder," she said, "they won't break."

Thus encouraged I gripped each one firmly, drawing my fingers out to tweak and knead her nipples.

She groaned and said, "That feels good and so does this," and she moved her hands to my crotch, squeezing my cock with one hand and cupping my balls with the other as if to weigh them.

I groaned and said, "May I kiss your breasts."

"Sweetie you can kiss them and suck them and even bite them, but not too hard."

I leaned down and took one impressive breast into my mouth, kissing and sucking and biting, but not too hard and moved my hands down her belly, running my fingers through her luxurious thatch of pubic hair and arriving at her tunnel of love. I ran my middle finger up her carnal canyon and was amazed at how wet she was.

"This feels wonderful," I said.

She laughed and said, "Just wait till you put your tool in there and than tell me how wonderful it feels."

"But I don't have a sofa in here," I said, "much less a bed."

"Silly boy," she replied, "we don't need a bed for what we're going to do."

She moved away from me and leaned over, bracing her upper body upon my desk and waving her impressive ass at me. She spread her legs and said, "Saddle up and fuck me."

I moved behind her and made some tentative pokes at her privates. She reached around behind her, centered my randy cock at her moist entrance and said, "Fuck me."

I pushed into her, marveling at my first feel of a woman's insides.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I said.

"I'll bet you've wanted to," she said.

"Oh yes," I said, I've dreamed about this."

"I knew it," she said, "I saw the way you looked at me in church. I saw the hunger in your eyes. I was just waiting for the right opportunity. When you started your sermon series I could hardly wait for the seventh commandment.."

"Mrs. Sterling, you are a conniving woman."

"Call me what you will, conniving, seductive, a Jezebel. Call me what you will or, better yet, just shut up and fuck me."

And so I did and I must confess that it didn't take long. A few hard strokes inside her well of wonderness and I erupted. I gasped and, pulling out of her I said, "I'm sorry that I came so quickly."

She turned around, gave me a hug and a wet kiss and said, "That's alright. There'll be another time."

And indeed there was. She would come by my office or I would go to her house when her husband was away on business. Erelong I learned to postpone my orgasm and she taught me how to touch her and play with her and get her just to the point of climax before I plunged inside of her.

A month or so into our relationship we were lying, naked, on her big four poster bed, fondling each other. She said, "I want you to kiss me."

"Gladly," I said and moved my lips to hers.

"Not on my mouth," she said.

I stopped and said, "But where?"

"I want you to kiss my pussy."

"I've never done that," I said.

"Well give it a try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"Alright," I said, "I'll kiss it."

"You do that," she said, "and also suck it and bite it, but not too hard."

"How do we do it?"

"Get on your knees on the floor facing the side of the bed," she said, "just like you're about to say your nightly prayers."

I did and she moved her body to the edge of the bed, spreading her legs and pulling my face toward her nether lips. As I moved toward her she draped her legs across my shoulder and said, "Dinner is served."

"Should i wear a bib?"

She laughed and pulled my face firmly into her crotch almost smothering me. Her musky smell and the feel of her pubic hair on my face was breathtaking. Instinctively I darted my tongue into her folds relishing the taste of her. I began lapping like a dog after a long run.

"Go to it, preacher man," she said, "you'll never taste anything sweeter and juicier."

I grunted my approval.

Then she said, "Move your tongue up higher and find my little button."

I did and I must have found it because she squealed in delight. I captured it between my teeth and gently nibbled while I licked her lovingly. She began to thrust her pelvis toward me in rhythm with my mouth with an occasional sigh and a squeezing of my face between her legs.

I stopped for a moment and said, "How'm I doing?"

"You're doing fine, so fine, so fine, so fucking fine."

Than she began to wail and keen and said, "Put your fingers in me."

I thrust my right index finger inside of her and she said, "More. More fingers. Fill me up."

I inserted a second finger and than a third and began to twist my hand as if I were trying to core an apple. She reached down and grabbed my hand with my palm up and my fingers touching the top of her channel. She said, "Strum me with your fingers. Play me. Play with me."

I did that and stopped licking her button.

"Don't stop with your mouth boy. Use your fingers and your mouth. Give me all you've got.."

I took a deep breath and dove back in, licking, sucking, nibbling and strumming like a one-man band and soon my performance was rewarded with a shuddering orgasm. I continued to lick and stroke until she cried out, "Stop. Stop. You're killing me."

That was certainly a commandment that I didn't want to violate so I stopped.

She sighed and said, "I think the earth moved."

I laughed and said, "I don't know about that but I think we did nudge the bed just a bit."

She caught her breath and said, "Now, sweetie, it''s your turn."

I moved to position myself between her legs to fuck her and she said, "Maybe I should rephrase that. Now it's my turn to do you. My pussy has had all the stimulation it can stand for one day."

She got up off the bed and said, "Now we change places."

"Are you going to put my penis in your mouth?"

"Sweetie I'm going to suck your cock until your little balls explode."

"Lord have mercy," I said.

"Well, it's only fair," she said, "you know what the bible says about the golden rule."

"Do unto others," I said.

"As you would have have them do unto you."

"Then by all means go ahead and do me."

She went right to work, taking my cock full into her mouth and cuddling my balls. She pursed her lips and sucked me passionately and hungrily.

I groaned and said, "Do you like to do this?"

She stopped her sucking long enough to say, "I love it."

This was the first time I'd ever been orally serviced by a woman so I had nothing to compare it with but it was heavenly. I discovered that I loved to look at her with my cock in her mouth, her eyes bright, her cheeks bulging.

"Look at me," I said.

She looked up at me with a look of love and lust in her eyes.

"I love to watch you do that," I said.

She grunted approvingly and continued to lick and suck my cock, lapping at the tip, teasing the top and then taking it fully inside.

"I'm going to cum," I said with a gasp.

She stopped momentarily and said, "Cum for me sweetie. Cum for me."

"In your mouth?"

"Oh yes," she said, "I want to taste you."

With a few more loving licks I came, perhaps better than anytime in my life.

Our affair continued for another month or so but Mrs. Sterling couldn't resist bragging about it to some of her friends. Soon some of the Deacons heard of it and it was suggested strongly that I resign my position. Due to the circumstances of my departure it was not likely that another church would take me on as their pastor but there was no shortage of churches seeking ministers on a part-time basis so my job as a circuit riding preacher began.

The job involved a lot of travel - obviously - and the pay consisted of half of the money which went into the offering plate. Some Sundays were diamonds and some were stones but I learned to live frugally and was usually housed by one of the church members in whatever town I happened to be in and, after one or two circuits, I was able to establish a routine, usually staying at the same place.

Thus there was wide variety in the places that I stayed, the churches that I served and the women that I also served and who served me. The techniques which I learned under the loving tutelage of Mrs. Sterling were worth their weight in gold or should I say sterling. Old, young, married, single, tall, short, skinny, fat, big, small, beautiful or plain I enjoyed them all. I had always been fascinated by women and I learned that each was unique, each had different skills and most were longing for the loving touch of a caring, considerate man.

I soon discovered that most of them had rarely had an orgasm, even the married ones. Apparently their husbands were only interested in their own gratification and many used their wives merely as instruments for sexual satisfaction or machines to make babies. With one or two exceptions I was the first man to ever give them oral sex and among the first to see that they had an orgasm if, indeed, they were orgasmic and most women are if given the proper attention.

I discovered that making a woman cum was almost as pleasant for me as cumming myself and I took great pride and satisfaction in pleasing my partners. You may think me boastful but I believe that I did nothing more than any man could do if he would just apply himself diligently to the task. I also learned that a satisfied woman was always more than willing to satisfy me - the Golden Rule again as it were.

Through time my faith and beliefs began to dwindle. One could argue that if I had been less worldly that wouldn't have happened and I would have to agree but it happened nonetheless. I began to wonder about another line of employment. Something which would involve less travel and less hypocrisy. I also began to wish for just one woman who could satisfy my needs both sexually and intellectually. I came to realize that, distilled to the essence, all orgasms are pretty much the same and that the sexual part of a relationship is, or should be, only a small albeit important part of it. In short I guess I wanted to change some aspects of my life and settle down.

And then I met Laura. I was riding from one circuit stop to the next. Another lonely ride on another dusty road. It was autumn, my favorite season. Others may find that season depressing but I loved the change in the weather, the trees changing colors although Kansas is not noted for it's foliage. The hint of winter was in the air and the prospect of cold rides across the prairie was not enchanting. As I neared a small town my old horse threw a shoe, forcing me to dismount and walk her into town. I found a blacksmith and was told that I would have to wait for an hour or so for the horseshoe to be replaced.

It was a warm, Indian-summer day so I walked to a nearby park, a pleasant place with trees and benches and picnic tables right in the center of town. It was a weekday and few people were there. As I strolled I noticed a woman sitting on a bench reading a book. She appeared to be about my age. She was small and attractive with an intelligent glint in her eye and I decided to try to engage her in some conversation.

I sat down on a bench across the path from her. She looked up at me and smiled and then went back to her book.

"What are you reading?"

She looked up and said, "The Brain and the Bible."

"By Robert Ingersoll," I said.

"You've read it?"

"I have."

"What's your review?"

"It's very interesting," I said, "Mr. Ingersoll is an interesting man."

"Are you a free thinker?"

I laughed and said, "Actually I'm a Presbyterian minister."

"And you read Robert Ingersoll?"

"I like to know what the other side is thinking."

"How very interesting," she said.

"What do you do?" I asked.

"I edit the local newspaper," she said, "actually I own it. I inherited it from my late father."

"You own and edit the Gazette?"

"You're familiar with it?"

"Indeed but I had no idea it was owned and edited by a woman."

"I hesitate to ask you what you think of it," she said.

"I think it's an excellent publication with much more than just the goings-on of the local ladies sewing circle. I don't read it every week but as I recall some of the editorials were very insightful. Did you write them?"

"I did and thank you for the compliment," she said.

"You're most welcome."

She smiled and then she said, "Tell me how a Presbyterian minister comes to be reading Robert Ingersoll."

"Well, as I told you, I'm interested in how the world works and what people think and, truth be told, under my preacher's hat there may be a free-thinkers brain."

"That must be interesting and sometimes troubling," she said.

"It's both," I said "but that's how life is, isn't it?"

"indeed," she said, "but isn't it hard to be a man of the cloth and a free thinker?"