As soon as they stepped into the living room, the Rev emerged from an adjoining dining room. He was tall and lean, perhaps six-two, clean shaven with closely cropped dark hair, appearing to be in his early forties. By appearance he could have been a lawyer or a banker, but for the dark shirt and slacks and white ecclesiastical collar he wore. The one unorthodox aspect of his garb was that he wore a pair of black cowboy boots, shined to a wicked gleam. They had a pointy toe capped with gleaming silver. Not at all like that dusty, scuffed, squared toed boots her Father and his wranglers wore when herding cattle on the ranches, Melissa thought.
"Lisa," he exclaimed as he crossed the room with long strides to greet her, wrapping her up in the same boob smashing hug his wife had greeted her with, but without the long kiss. Lisa slid her hand slowly over the Rev's tight buns as he hugged her. When they parted he stepped back, still holding both of her hands, while he appraised her appearance with a long lecherous stare. "Oh my yes. You've taken my suggestion to heart. Very nice. Turn for me so I can see the whole appearance. Lisa did a slow pirouette on one foot, posing when her back was to him to bend slightly forward and run her hands slowly down over her hips.
"Oh my yes. So very nice as always Lisa. And who is the beautiful creature behind you?" he asked, turning his attention to Melissa.
Before Lisa could answer, Melissa stepped forward, her hand extended, and said, "I'm Melissa. Lisa is my Mother" . . . she paused and then said . . . "and inspiration."
The Rev enveloped her outstretched hand with both of his in a grip that was firm and yet bordering on a fondle. His hands were warm and soft. He smiled as he looked straight into her eyes, and said simply. "So pleased to meet you Melissa. You look just like your Mother--beautiful. And I'd love to hear about how she inspires you over dinner tonight. Your Mother has told me a bit about you, but let's sit down here in the living room and have a glass of wine and I can learn a bit more about you. As he spoke the Rev had somehow managed to convey his full attention on Melissa, even though he had been wrapped around her Mother only moments before. Melissa felt a surge of lust and thought it was just about the sexiest handshake she had ever received.
Once in the living room the Rev somehow discretely arranged the seating so that Melissa sat next to the Rev on a couch while her Mother and Julia sat in a pair of arm chairs across the room. Julia brought in glasses of wine for all, but for the next half hour the Rev's attention was focused exclusively on Melissa. She sat in the corner of the couch, her long legs crossed exposing nearly all of one thigh. The Rev sat on the center cushion, one leg drawn up and curled beneath the other, his body turned to face her, as he smoothly learned about her life, what she was studying in college, and even a bit about her politics. He didn't touch her and not a word was said about love or sex, but his focused attention was seductive. His eyes did occasionally flit down to her long legs, pausing briefly on her breasts. But it wasn't offensive. It just provided a very soft reminder that the evening was ultimately about sex.
While the Rev interrogated Melissa, her Mother and Julia were sitting on the other side of the room talking about almost nothing but sex--Lisa and Luke's latest long weekend on the Oregon Coast with Sally, the Rev's latest orgiastic party, the seduction of a new couple who had come to the Rev for help with their love life, the most recent carnal carrying on of Julia's oversexed Mother who lived nearby. But Melissa was so focused on the Rev, she didn't register a word of the lewd conversation the two women were carrying on.
When the group moved to the dining room for a light meal (and more wine) the focus of the conversation changed. Now the Rev was lecturing about his views on sex, but doing it in such a way as to be involving everyone in the conversation. As with the cocktail hour, he had discretely managed the seating arrangements. Melissa was sitting next to him on one side of the table and her Mother and Julia sat on the other side. Lisa of course knew exactly what the point of the seating arrangement was from her prior experience with dinners at the Rev's house. There were always two agendas at dinner. One above the table, which consisted of conversation which appeared on its face, civilized but nonetheless focused purely and unapologetically on sex, and a far less socially acceptable agenda under the table which consisted of overt molesting of the dinner guests by the Rev and his wife.
Melissa had been warned to expect the over and under the table agendas, so she was not surprised, nor did she register objection, when she felt the Rev place his hand on her thigh. The seating had been arranged so that the slit in the side of each guest's skirt was next to their host, giving Julia and the rev ready access. Melissa immediately noticed the arrangement, but was far from offended. This was simply about sex, and sex was the reason she was present.
But, in some ways Melissa found the above the table agenda more interesting. The Rev picked up the theme Lisa had alluded to earlier concerning the scope of sex beyond the simple act of copulation. "I thought we would talk about seduction tonight," he said. "Melissa, what does the word seduction mean to you?"
She was a bit surprised to be made the focal point of the conversation from the outset so she paused before answering. As she paused she felt his warm hand caressing her bare thigh beneath the table.
"I guess it means getting someone to go to bed with you," she responded.
"Ahh. Interesting," the Rev responded. "Is a bed really required for a successful seduction? Lisa what's your view."
Lisa smiled. "Hardly," she said. "But sometimes it's more comfortable in bed." She was also enjoying the massage of her dinner partner's hand on her thigh. Julia had pushed the skirt Lisa wore aside and was softly massaging the inside of her upper thigh.
"It's?" he asked.
"The seduction. The sex," Melissa responded, filling in for her mother, who seemed somewhat distracted.
"Oh, I see," said the Rev. "So the two of you think the ultimate goal of seduction is sex. Is that right Melissa?"
"Sure," she said as she felt the Rev's hand slide around to the inside of her thigh. My god he has talented fingers, she thought.
"Lisa?" he asked, tossing the same question to Melissa's mother.
Lis was more than a little distracted by Julia's fingers which were nearing her core. She paused before answering, mainly because she was engrossed with discretely spreading her legs to improve Julia's access. Once that task was completed, she said, "Well I didn't mean to say that the only way to enjoy sex was in a nice soft bed. There other times and places and ways that can be very exciting."
"Ah, so exciting is important?" the Rev asked.
"Oh my god yes," Lisa responded. " I mean who doesn't enjoy a quickie in a broom closet during a cocktail party?" Everyone chuckled in response.
Melissa was quickly feeling out of her depth here, having never had a quickie in a broom closet during a cocktail party. Nonetheless the Rev turned the conversation back to her. "Melissa would you say the best part of sex in the broom closet during a cocktail party is the physical part, cock in your mouth or pussy, tongue on your clit, or whatever, or is it the fear and excitement arising from the risk of being caught doing something everyone else at the party would disapprove of?"
Lisa recognized the Rev's technique of slowly turning the language above the table to a more graphic level. She smiled, but that was mostly because she was enjoying Julia's stroking of her barely clad pussy. In truth, she loved watching the Rev work. He was masterful, she thought . . . but so were Julia's fingers.
Melissa was stumped for answer, because like many college students she had never spent much time worrying about what other people might think of her sex life. Her Mother rescued her, "Oh of course Rev, it's the excitement arising from the risk of being caught. Let's face it fucking in a broom closet is at best awkward. But even if he somehow manages to fill my cunt, the exciting part is worrying about his wife walking in and screaming when she finds her dear loving hubby with his pecker shoved in me while he mauls my tits which are hanging out of the front of my dress. That's what makes it hot." Julia had pushed her thong to the side and was now stroking her slippery pussy lips. Lisa knew it was a reward for giving the Rev the answer he wanted and using graphic language to do it.
