Pastor B.H. Eaton was the much loved shepherd of his flock at Normanhurst Baptist Church.
Normanhurst Baptist was not a wealthy congregation but composed of a cross-section of steelworkers and other blue collar workers.
The forty-two-year-old redheaded Scotsman had endeared himself to his fold, both young and old.
Eaton did not limit his ministry to Sundays but maintained an active visitation program throughout the week calling upon his parishioners in their homes. It was not unusual to see Pastor Eaton's old blue Chevy parked in front of a mom's home while he joined her for a cup of tea.
The church was a simple wooden structure erected in the midst of a survey of wartime housing erected during the war to accommodate the critical need for steelworkers. After the conclusion of the war many of the families remained living in Normanhurst.
Lynda called Pastor Eaton one Monday afternoon requesting a private counseling session with him. The pastor said he would be able to see her in his study as soon as she could get over to the church.
Lynda was a twenty-two-year-old buxom blonde still living at home with her parents. Lynda was engaged to be married to Ross Ireland, another of Eaton's parishioners, in a few months. Eaton was to perform the nuptials and had offered to counsel the young couple.
Lynda knocked on Eaton's study door about twenty minutes later. She was wearing a summery cotton dress with straps over her bare shoulders holding up the bodice of her dress offering a generous view of her cleavage.
"They must be "D" cups!" Eaton mused as he showed the young girl into his study.
Eaton motioned for her to be seated in front of his desk as he sat himself in the swivel arm chair behind the old oak desk. Most of the furniture in his study had been salvaged from the old W.H Ballard School when they had closed it.
The Nyack Bible School diploma on the wall and the photograph of his wife and daughter on the desk added his personal touch.
"What can I do for you today?" Eaton beamed.
"It is about Ross, he is pressuring me for sex and I told him we must wait until we are married." Lynda explained.
"You have had no sex at all?" Eaton asked more to satisfy is own curiosity than any other reason.
"He has felt my bare breast that is all." Lynda confessed.
"Did you like it?" Eaton found himself asking.
"It was O.K. but it was getting us too excited." She explained.
"I bet with knockers like yours!" Eaton thought "How do you feel about sex?"
"Its wrong before you get married." Lynda gave what she thought was the expected answer.
"But you are going to marry him soon." The pastor reminded her.
"I guess I am afraid because I have never done it before." The blonde confessed her true reason.
"That is easy to solve." Eaton replied the wheels in his head spinning, "I could give you some special coaching."
"Is that permitted?" Lynda looked confused.
"In special circumstances but it must be absolutely confidential, even Ross must not know." The pastor warned.
"When can we start?" Lynda asked.
Eaton arranged to pick the young bride-to-be up at a local coffee shop later that night. He told her to tell her parents and fiancé that she was going to a special prayer meeting Pastor Eaton had arranged for selected church youth.
His prey was there waiting for him when he drove up to the coffee shop. His eyes scanned the area to ensure no one saw the young blonde coming out to join him in his car.
"Hurry up and get in." he said as he pulled away from the curb.
Eaton had a smoking Export "A" in his mouth, another of his secret vices.
"Where are we going?" Lynda asked/.
"You will see." He curtly answered.
Now that he had his prey in his car the pastor's attitude had changed from one of kind consideration to one more reflective of his true motivation, to deflower the naive blonde seated beside him.
Lynda still wore the pale blue cotton dress she had worn earlier to his study. Eaton couldn't help staring at the top of her generous creamy mounds wondering what her nipples would be like.
Eaton guided the Chevy out of town along highway #6 that led to the rolling hills of Caledon. The church had a campground amidst the cedar woods of Caledon where they held spiritual revival campfires with Eaton preaching fire and brimstone.
Eaton was a Biblical scholar and could quote the Holy Scriptures to say whatever he wanted them to say.
He reflected on how many devote Christian mothers and daughters had rendered themselves naked to fulfill the "Christian duty".
Lynda was about to see a side of the pastor he had only revealed to a few selected women. There had been Joyce Tourney, the young wife he had successfully planted his seed into and produced a fine son. To this day her husband Bill was not aware of his wife's dalliance.
Camp Calvary was deserted when they reached the end of the narrow gravel road. The camp consisted of an aged wooden cabin adjacent to the campfire circle.
Lynda had spent many of her childhood days singling the gospel songs while a huge bonfire crackled in the midst of the parishioners making a joyful noise unto the Lord.
Tonight Lynda would be making a different noise.
The night was silent when Eaton turned the engine off. Gradually the crickets resumed their evening serenade accompanied by the bullfrogs in the bass section.
The dashboard lights were their only illumination as the Chevy's A.M. radio played "golden oldies".
Eaton began unfastening the buttons on the back of Lynda's dress allowing it to open and expose her bra strap. With three buttons undone Eaton was able to unhook the row of triple hooks and eyes on the back of her bra. The bra popped as the tension was released and Eaton's hand went under the cup and scooped out her bare breast.
Lynda's breast was the largest he had ever held in his career of seducing female members of his congregation. Her nipple was perfect, about a three inch diameter aureole surrounded by a scatter of nodes circling her half-inch tubular teat. Eaton squeezed it like a lump of pizza dough.
