A Proper Baptist

In the car, he patted Marcie's bare knee. When he put the car in gear and drove away from the house, she reached across and rubbed his penis. He shook his head, certain that for what he was about to do he was going to hell.

Marcie walked ahead of him into his apartment when he opened the door. Oliver held his breath. His heart was in his throat. What was he going to tell Joann if she was there, that he brought a girl home to commit carnal acts with her? That would go over well.

But Joann wasn't home, and he let his breath out. What time she was going to get home he didn't know, but he hoped that for what he and Marcie planned to do they had enough time to finish before she did.

She stood in the center of the apartment, looking around.

"It's nice," she said.

"Thank you." He tossed his keys on the counter bar.

"I hope I have a place like this one day."

"Well, you can't have this one. I'm still using it," he said, and she smiled. He put his hands in his pockets. "What should we do?"

She shrugged. "You could show me your bedroom."

"Just like that? We just go to the bedroom and that's it?"

"I guess. What else is there?"

He scratched his head. "I don't know. I guess I imagined there would be something more romantic involved."

Her fingers tugged at the bottom of her cut-off top, pulling it tight over her hard nipples. "You could make me dinner."

"Your father said he wanted you home for dinner. It wouldn't be very good if I spoiled your dinner, would it?"

"Maybe if we worked at it hard enough I would be hungry enough for two dinners."

They both chuckled at the joke. He reached up and touched her cheek. Her skin was soft and delicate, like the flesh of a rose petal. Her face turned up and her lips parted. He bent forward and kissed those lips. She moaned. Her hands rested on his chest. He pulled his shirt out of his slacks and unbuttoned it all the way down the front. She reached inside and pressed her palms to his bare chest.

"I love your body," she said.

He put his hands on her hips and pulled her firmly against him, rubbing the lump of his erection against her belly.

"Yes. I love your body as well."

Marcie lifted his hand. "Take me to the bedroom now. I'm ready."

She was smiling as he led her into his bedroom, and her cheeks were glowing. She plopped herself on the corner of his bed and bounced a couple of times.

"It's a good bed, a good big bed. I bet you've had sex with a lot of girls on this bed," she said.

"I've never had sex," he said. He searched the top of the dresser. Where did he put those condoms?

"Never?"

"No, never. The church doesn't allow it."

"But Pastor Nowicki has a wife and a son. He has sex, doesn't he?"

"His situation is different," he said. He looked through each drawer of the dresser.

"I think you should be allowed to have sex too, whenever you want."

He turned to her, his hands on his hips, ready to correct her, but his argument vanished in the air and his mind blanked. Here was a sight before him he never expected to see: Marcie was laying on her back on his bed with her knees bent and spread, presenting herself to him.

"Oliver? I wanna be your first," she said in a tiny voice that was suddenly that of a little girl again.

He swallowed. Never in his life had he seen a sight as beautiful as this little girl ready to copulate. And she chose him.

He walked to the bed on shaking knees. Her eyes followed him. The tip of her tongue poked between her puffy lips. Her legs parted wider, as if in invitation. He moved between them and put his hands on her knees. Marcie hooked her heels around the backs of his legs. Oliver leaned over her, pressing his hands into the mattress to either side.

"What do you want me to do?" she said.

"Kiss me."

Her eyes closed and her lips parted. He closed his own eyes and kissed her softly. His weight bent her legs back and forced the hard ridge of his penis against her warm mound. Her hips moved and her hands came up to touch his arms. He pressed his groin harder against her crotch and groaned. In his experience, nothing ever felt so good. Was this what the Bible meant when it spoke of the pleasures of the flesh?

"Oliver?" she whispered in his ear.

"Yes?"

"I wanna suck on your dick first, before you put it in my pussy, ok?"

"Yes, that's all right, I suppose," he said.

The door opened. They both turned to look. It was Joann, with one hand on the doorknob, her mouth hanging open.

"Sweet Jesus, Oliver, what do you think you're doing?" she said.

He fought for something to say, but nothing came out. Joann turned and walked away, leaving the door open.

"Joann, wait," he shouted, and pried himself from between Marcie's legs.

Joann was in the middle of the living room, her hands on her hips.

"Joann, listen ..." he started.

Her face was black. She pointed to the bedroom with her finger like it was a dagger.

"How could you do this to me? How could you do it to yourself, Oliver? You are violating your oaths to the church."

"I ... I ..."

"You should be ashamed of yourself, taking advantage of a girl like that. You should be thankful I don't call the police. I should at least call Pastor Nowicki."

"Joann, listen please ..."

"I should have realized something this morning when I saw that you were aroused," she said, pointing to his crotch. She stared for a second until he covered the hard bulge with his hands. She pulled his box of condoms from her pocket. "I found these on your dresser. Imagine how naive I feel to think you only had them to help someone else. Now I know you planned to use them for yourself."

"What were you doing going through my room?"

"I think that is irrelevant right now, considering you were about to have sex with a girl. It's a good thing I stopped you," she said. Her voice was a shriek and her eyes blazed.

"Joann, I'll have sex if I want to."

"With that kind of attitude, I think you are not fit to lead a church," she said.

"I'm not sure the church is fit to lead anyone," Oliver said.

They stared at each other silently for a long time. Finally, she put the box of condoms in his hand.

"I'll be leaving in the morning," she said.

"I think that would be best."

Joann walked straight to the door and slammed it shut behind her. Oliver let out a deep sigh and turned to his bedroom. Marcie was sitting on the edge of his bed, her elbows on her knees and her chin on her palms.

"Did I get you in trouble?" she said.

"No."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"If I did. If I got you in trouble."

"I suppose if I've got myself in trouble I deserve it."

She leaned back on her arms and smiled. Her cut-off white top was stretched between her plump breasts and her hard nipples showed through the fabric. She rubbed the inside of his thigh with her calf.

"You know, if you're gonna get in trouble it might as well be for something good," she said.

His penis throbbed in his pants, especially when her leg touched it. He looked at the red box in his hand and threw it on the dresser.

"We'd better get going," he said, and held his hand out.

Shee put her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet.

"Where?"

"It's getting late. We have to get to the church," he said.

He unlocked his office. Marcie walked in behind him, her hands clasped behind her back, looking left and right.

"I didn't know you had an office," she said.

"Yes. It's all mine."

"It's nice." She paused and looked back at the door. "I'm gonna use the bathroom."

"Ok."

He stood by his desk, his arms at his sides, looking around the office himself. What was he supposed to do with this place? When he moved in it all made sense, but anymore he could not see the purpose.

Someone knocked and he turned to the door.

"Ah, Pastor Oliver, you're here. I've been looking for you," Pastor Nowicki said.

"What can I do for you?"

Pastor Nowicki walked into the office with his fingers laced together and a frown on his lips, looking down at the floor.

"I just spoke with your sister, Oliver, and frankly I'm very upset by what she's told me," he said.

"What did she tell you?" Oliver leaned against the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. Would Joann tell him about catching him with a girl?

"She told me she suspects you have been ... fraternizing with a woman. Is this true?"

"I'm afraid it is."

Pastor Nowicki was shaking his head, still frowning.

"This news troubles me deeply. I realize you and I differ somewhat in our philosophies, but you have taken vows for your position in the church."

"I've been having second thoughts about those vows."

Pastor Nowicki stared at him. "Yes, well, we can't have doubts about our faith. You especially, Oliver. I've been reviewing your request for a sabbatical. I think now I understand why you made that request. I've decided to grant it. In fact, it's approved immediately. You need to take some time to focus your commitment to the church. I cannot afford to entrust this church to someone who is only half committed to the work that needs to be done."

"I understand," Oliver said. Over Pastor Nowicki's shoulder, he saw Marcie peeking in around the door frame. Her brown eyes were wide. Then she disappeared.

"I hope you do. This is a very serious matter," Pastor Nowicki said. "As for today, I don't want you to talk to the girls in the pregnancy prevention group. It wouldn't be appropriate, under the circumstances. I'll talk to them myself."

"Yes, Pastor Nowicki."

He gave a succinct nod and turned to the door.

"Make sure you pack whatever you're going to need, Oliver. Your trip will probably be extended. Have you thought about where you want to go?" Pastor Nowicki said, and stopped in the doorway.

"Maybe Arizona, or New Mexico. The Spanish found a lot of things holy about the desert."

Pastor Nowicki nodded. "Let me know what you decide. I know a monastery outside Santa Fe. You should talk to the monks. They know a thing or two about abstinence."

He turned and was gone. Oliver sat down behind his desk with a deep sigh. It wasn't supposed to work that way. When he left the seminary college his path was so clear. Looking back, he could not even see what path he was on. But had he made a mistake with Marcie? He frowned. Nowhere could he find within himself a feeling of regret for what he had done to his life or his career, no feeling of regret for where he was now. His only regret was that he hadn't yet experienced the complete joy of a woman.

"Pastor Oliver?" Marcie said.

He looked up. She was at the door, leaning against the outside of the door frame.

"Marcie, why aren't you with the other girls in the pregnancy prevention group?"

She snickered. "It's a little too late for me, don't you think?"

They were quiet, not looking at each other. The office was silent except for the soft whisper of cool, air-conditioned air from the vent.

"I have to pack for a trip. I should probably take you home," Oliver said.

"You can take me home after."

"After what?"

"Do I have to tell you?"

"After all this, you still want to ..."

"I'm still waiting for it."

He looked around the office. "Right here?"

"What's wrong with right here?"

"We're in a church."

She shrugged. "I don't care. Do you care?"

He could only stare at her face. She had high cheeks and big brown eyes and her skin was flawless. He should pity her. The church would tell him she was defiled and her soul needed to be saved. Her soul, however, was already free. His was the one that needed saving.

He got up and locked the office door. She watched him. He came back and sat down again, and put his hands on her bare knees.

"No, I don't care," he said.

Her lips curled into a thin smile. She glanced down at his hands. His fingers pressed into her soft flesh and moved up her thighs until the tips poked under the bottom edge of her nylon shorts. Marcie bit her lower lip.

"What are you doing?" she said. Her voice was just a whisper.

"I don't really know."

She giggled. She was trembling. His hands moved up to the sides of her white halter top, under her arms. His thumbs brushed the soft sides of her breasts. Beneath the taut, white fabric, her nipples were hard points. She stared into his eyes, licking her lips with the tip of her tongue.

He hooked his thumbs under the bottom edge of the halter top and pulled it over Marcie's breasts. Her nipples were round and pink and stuck out like miniature domes. He rubbed his thumbs over their tips. She sucked in a deep breath. Her eyes closed and she moaned softly behind her closed lips.

The gold crucifix dangled between her round breasts. He hesitated, but on her innocent face was the most salacious look of desire. How could he deny her? He leaned closer and licked one of her nipples. She moaned again and pushed her chest out. He twirled his tongue around the tip, sucked it between her lips, then switched to her other nipple and did the same thing. She put her hand on top of his head.

"Oliver?"

He pulled his face away from her chest. "Yes?"

"Do you wanna eat me?"

"Eat you?"

"Yeah, you know, eat my pussy?"

He glanced down between her legs, but still, he was confused. Marcie wiggled her shorts and panties down her legs to her feet. The nylon shorts dropped to the floor. Her panties dangled from one shoe. She leaned back on her arms and spread her legs.

"You can try it on me if you like," she said.

He blinked. Once or twice when he was younger he tried to imagine a woman's private parts. He had a general idea how they worked, but the appearance he had in his mind from so many years ago was nothing like what he saw for the first time.

He blinked again. She had barely a few wisps of faint hair on her mound. It was puffy and red, and split down the middle with a crease. The idea was simple, of course. His penis went in there somewhere. However, it looked like a complexity of folded layers of soft flesh.

"What do I do?" Oliver said. He was breathing hard.

"Lick me. Right here," she said, and touched the center of her tiny slit. Her fingers spread her lips and exposed a moist, pink area within.

He leaned down and inhaled. She had a sweet, musty aroma that was arousing. His penis throbbed in his pants. He closed his eyes, poked out his tongue and licked, right between her fingers. She gasped. He opened his eyes. That wasn't so bad. He licked her again.

"Oh yes. Oh Oliver," Marcie said with a sigh.

Her folds of flesh were soft and warm between his fingers. They peeled apart easily, like the delicate flesh of a fruit and revealed a hole, an access into her body. But the hole was so tiny, barely the diameter of his finger. Honestly, how could a man expect to fit his penis inside that?

He licked again, running his tongue slowly up and down her groove. Was that what he was supposed to do? Marcie apparently liked it. She lay back on top of his desk, moaning, and knocked over the pen holder and a framed picture of his sister.

She whimpered and her back arched off the desk like a bridge when his tongue touched a certain spot. The more he licked there, the more she moaned. Her body twisted like she was tormented from within by demons. Her right hand clawed at the desk top. Her left hand pulled at the hair on his head and her legs hung over his shoulders and squeezed his head. He held her slender hips and licked as hard as he could, rubbing his tongue over that spot that got so much reaction out of her, but also pushing it deep into her moist, pink spot.

The poor girl was practically screaming. At any moment, someone walking by outside might stop to see what was happening, but he didn't care. Pastor Nowicki might think he was hurting the girl. He knew better. She was enjoying what she was receiving as much as he enjoyed giving it to her. When she did this same to him those months ago in the basement, he was the one who received the pleasure, but did she receive it as well?

Marcie's squeals dissipated to faint gasps. The back of her hand covered her mouth. Her entire body tensed and flexed several times, then she was suddenly limp, and he was left with a mouthful of warm, salty fluid from within her body.

Oliver continued to lick her slit, but it appeared the demons that tormented the poor girl had gone. Had he made her feel an orgasm, that same ecstasy she provided for him? Her sweet face was flushed. Her eyes opened slowly and she smiled.

"That was pretty awesome," she said.

"You liked it then?"

"Yeah, I liked it a lot."

"Good. Let's see how you like this," Oliver said.

He stood upright. Her legs were spread wide to either side. She leaned up on her elbows. He dropped his slacks to the floor and her eyes bulged.

"Oh baby," she muttered, staring at his groin.

The end of his cock stretched out and touched the soft, pale flesh of her belly. Oliver crossed himself. Marcie watched and crossed herself, too.

He was panting, and stared down at his penis and her warm, moist opening. What was he supposed to do now? He understood how it worked, but only in theory. Was he supposed to put it inside her himself? She was watching his face, waiting for what he would do next.

Of course she was waiting. It was what she wanted, as much as him. He touched the tip of his penis to her pink opening. Marcie flinched. This was the hard part. Somehow, he had to make that thick thing fit inside her constricted opening. He could not see how that would happen without causing her some pain. And causing any pain to such a pretty, delicate girl was a thing he didn't think he could do.

But he pushed anyway. The tip pierced her soft folds. Marcie bit her lower lip. He held her hips and pushed firmly. The entire head disappeared inside her, and with it an inch or so of the shaft. She groaned and squeezed his forearms. He paused to take in the sight. This was it. His penis was finally within the forbidden regions of a woman, and the feeling, well, there was nothing he had experienced like it. He could only describe it as ... tremendous.

But her eyes were squeezed shut, and her teeth were clenched and bared. He gave a gentle push and she winced. It was true, he was hurting her. Why didn't she stop him? Did she have some misguided belief that this was something she had to do? He shook his head. Only a few inches of his penis had made their way inside her. He couldn't continue. He didn't have the heart to defile an innocent girl. He pulled back.

"No," Marcie said, and reached for his retreating penis. It slid through her fingers like a rope.

Oliver fell into his chair, slumped low. His rigid penis drooped to the side.

"Oliver, what's wrong?" she said, and sat up.

He shrugged. "I can't do this, Marcie. I'm almost twice your age. It's not right." He sat forward and reached down for his slacks.

She hopped off the desk and put her hand on his shoulder. He looked up to her eyes and saw something in them, a determination, a desire he had not noticed, but it was the same look in her eyes when she came to him the first time in the basement.

"I'm not gonna let you get away that easy."

The right side of her mouth smirked. She pushed against his shoulder and he fell backward in the chair again. His penis stood straight up. Along its length were wide, purple veins that pulsed, and its deep, red color was alarming.

She lifted a long, slender leg over his knee, straddling his legs. Her small hand closed around the middle of his long shaft, and this time he was the one who flinched. She leaned forward, holding his penis way down between her legs. Her breasts and the crucifix dangled in his face. His hands were locked on the arms of the chair. Marcie bit her lower lip, and when she found her moist opening with the head of his penis, she winced.

"Be careful Marcie, don't hurt yourself," he said. He put his hands around her waist.