Marcie tied the sleeves of her sweatshirt around her waist and wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. The front of her pink halter top was marked with a narrow stain of perspiration that ran down between her breasts. Her hard nipples stuck through the thin fabric.
She smiled. Sure, Dean told her she was supposed to wear a bra, but she hated them. Besides, she liked the feel of the fabric rubbing her nipples and the way they stuck out, and how her boobs jiggled without the tight bra. All the guys stopped to look at her, even older men like Dadâs friend Mr. Minver.
She pushed off on her in-line skates, zipping down the sidewalk. Her sweatshirt bounced against her butt and the backs of her legs. Maybe she could get him to love her. She noticed lately how the front of his pants swelled when he was around her. He wasnât fat, but his waist was a bit round and stuck out over his belt. How would it feel to hold him between her legs?
She turned a corner, brushing her arm on a big bush, and passed a couple walking a dog. They were about as old as her parents. The manâs eyes dropped to her chest and his eyebrows arched. Marcie was smiling when she went past.
Ahead on the right was the church. She was a long way from home. She slowed and let her skates glide over the cracks in the sidewalk. Did she mean to come that far? Was she hoping for a chance to see Dean again, maybe to convince him he was wrong about her? At the parking lot entrance she skated up toward the church.
In the parking lot was a collection of cars. None was Deanâs black convertible. She skated twice around the entire lot to make sure. But one car in particular she did notice, Pastor Oliverâs little red Honda. She stopped beside it and peeked in, then looked back at the church.
She skated to the side doors, but they were locked. She knocked and waited. No one came to let her in. It was just as well; they probably wouldnât let her in with skates on.
She skated around the building to the back of the gym. Those doors were locked, too. From the basement windows beneath the gym she saw some lights. She crouched on her hands and knees and peeked in the low window.
Pastor Oliver was there, in the boxing ring with another guy, a younger skinny guy with a padded mask on his head. Marcie swallowed hard. Pastor Oliverâs chest was bare and he was covered with sweat. She had no idea he had such a lean, hard body. She felt a faint twitch between her legs.
The door to the basement was down a set of cement stairs on the other side of the building. She went down carefully, take each step sideways, one at a time. She turned the knob slowly and it opened. She slipped in and let it shut.
In the ring, Pastor Oliver was giving the younger guy instructions, and he just nodded back. They moved with their shoulders hunched and their gloved hands up, like it was an odd dance, then they threw punches at each other. Marcie gasped. Her eyes were wide. She sat on a bench to watch.
Certainly, they were just practicing, but the violence of the fighting shocked her. Oliver stopped frequently to show the skinny guy how to stand or how to hold his hands. When they got back to hitting each other, though, her stomach jumped and her insides tingled. It was only a few minutes longer before they finished, but Marcie felt warm all over.
They stepped out of the ring through the ropes. The skinny guy removed his padded mask before he disappeared through the doorway at the other end of the basement, but she didnât see his face. Oliver was pulling at the ties on his gloves with his teeth when he saw her.
âHi Marcie. I didnât notice you. How long have you been there?â he said and walked toward her.
Suddenly Marcie couldnât breathe. Something about Pastor Oliver was different. He was irresistible, even sexy.
âOnly a few minutes,â she said with a deep breath.
She reached for his glove. Oliver hesitated a second and held out his arm. Marcie untied the laces slowly. Her fingers were shaking.
âWhat brings you to the church on such a beautiful day Marcie?â he said.
She shrugged. Her eyes were turned down, concentrating on the laces.
âJust bored I guess. I thought I might find someone here to talk to.â
She tugged the glove from his hand and held it against her belly. Oliver quickly removed the other glove, picked up a towel and wiped his face.
âIâd be happy to talk. Anything in particular you want to talk about?â
He put on a t-shirt. Instantly, it was soaked with sweat.
âNothing in particular.â
âAll right. Why donât you sit down and weâll talk. Do you want to take your skates off?â he said, pointing at her feet.
Marcie sat on the bench and kicked her legs out. Her skates clicked together like she was making a wish to go home. Oliver sat beside her.
âI think Iâm in trouble, Pastor Oliver,â she said, staring at her skates.
âWhat kind of trouble?â
She raised the bottom of her shirt and rubbed her hand over the gentle bulge. Her rounded belly stuck out just a bit and stretched the waistband of her shorts.
âI think I might be pregnant.â
âPregnant? Dear God Marcie, youâre just a child. How old are you now?â
âEighteen.â
He touched her shoulder and she looked up into his eyes.
âHave you seen a doctor?â he said.
âNo.â She let go of the shirt and it hid her belly again.
âHow did it happen?â
She looked away from his eyes. âI just had sex with a ... boy.â
âMarcie, youâre too young to be doing grown up things like that.â
âI know. Itâs just, you know, it felt good.â
âJust because something makes you feel good doesnât make it right,â he said.
âWhy not?â
Oliver looked thoughtful for a moment.
âSometimes ... Sometimes the Devil makes wrong things feel good to us so weâll do them against Godâs wishes,â he said.
âOh. But it felt really, really good, you know what I mean?â
Oliver shook his head. âNo Marcie. Members of the church are not allowed to have sex.â
Marcie blinked. âNot at all?â
âNo.â
âSo youâve never done it?â
âNever. But I donât feel the pressure to have sex and Iâm proud of myself,â he said.
Marcie stared at him with her lips parted. That was the last thing she expected. She actually knew more about sex than him. How was that possible?
âI liked one of the boys I did it with. I thought I might marry him one day,â Marcie said.
âOne of the boys? How many boys did you do this with?â
Marcie shrugged. âJust a couple. Why? Is that bad?â
Oliver put his hand on hers. His warm fingers touched her bare thigh and she felt a burning jolt through her body.
âYou poor dear. Who are these men who corrupted you?â he said.
Marcie shook her head. âI donât wanna say who it is.â
Oliver did not speak. They were quiet for a long time, in the silent basement. She tried not to move in case he might remove his hand from hers.
âWhat was he like?â Oliver said.
Marcie looked up to his eyes again.
âThe one I really liked was tall and gorgeous and he was a great kisser. The one who got me pregnant though, he was like really huge.â
Oliver looked confused and shook his head.
âHuge? What do you mean?â
Marcie blushed. âYou know. His thing. It was really huge.â
âHis thing? Oh, you mean his ... Oh.â
âYeah, and it felt really good when he put it inside me, you know? I mean like really, really good. He was kinda rough, kinda forceful? It made me feel so stretched, made me feel so stuffed.â
Marcie licked her lips. Her butt moved in small circles on the bench, trying to scratch the tingling between her legs. In her mind, she saw him behind her with his dick hanging between his legs, aimed at that tingly spot.
Beside her, Oliver shifted on the bench. He cleared his throat. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was a man, she had no doubt of that. But if he never had sex, could he get turned on, too? His hands moved over his lap, but before they could cover his shorts, she saw he had a nice lump growing there.
âWhen he put it inside you?â Oliver said.
Marcie nodded, closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
âHe made me get on my hands and knees and pulled down my shorts then he got behind me and it hurt at first when he put it in you know because he was so big, then when it was inside me for a while it just felt so good.â
Her hands moved back and forth on her bare thighs. Even with her eyes closed she could sense Oliver watching.
âWas he older than you?â he said.
âYes, much older,â she said.
âWhat about the other boy?â
âHeâs better looking and not much older than me and heâs a great kisser and his thing fits better in my mouth because itâs not as long, of course.â
âHe put his penis in your mouth?â Oliver said in a sharp voice.
Marcieâs eyes opened. âYeah. And when he spilled his seed I swallowed it. He wouldnât let me spit it out. Itâs ok though. I donât mind the taste. His is kinda sweet.â
âMarcie, I donât believe God meant for little girls to put menâs private parts in their mouths.â
She looked into his eyes, from one to the other.
âBut what if I want it in my mouth? What if I like it like that?â
Oliver touched her cheek.
âThe church does not believe such behavior is normal for anyone, especially a child such as you,â he said.
âBut ... But, how can you say that when you donât even know what itâs like?â
âMarcie, I donât have to be experienced in sex to know when itâs right and when itâs wrong,â he said with a soft smile.