Son of a Preacher Man

This is a story of a young minister's sexual awakening. It contains various forms of sexual activity. If you find this story is not to your liking, please check out all the listings in Literotica. I'm certain there is one in there that appeals to you. This story is fiction, living only in the dark recesses of my depraved mind. All characters in this story are over 18 years old. No humans or animals were injured in the telling of this story. Please enjoy this story and offer your "positive" comments and feedback. There is enough negativity in the world without adding anymore here, so don't bother

Son of a Preacher Man

Chapter 1

"Baby, are you sure about this?" The worry was apparent on her face.

"Listen Anna, it's going to be ok. We will just have to be more careful. We got caught up in the thrill and didn't always use proper caution last time."

Anna still looked worried but trusted her husband. "Ok Sam, I trust you but I can't help but be a little concerned.

The worry was probably well founded. This was my inaugural Sunday as the Head-Minister at a small church in southern Mississippi. The Head-Minister title is a little misleading. I'm the ONLY minister at this small church. We had left a large church in northern Washington state, where I had served as youth minister, in a bit of a hurry after a moment of poor timing. After taking a few weeks to travel the country, I landed a job here. Apparently, southern churches in need of a new minister don't do lengthy back-ground research on potential replacements.

Taking her in my arms, I pulled her to me. Taking her firm ass cheeks in my hands, I kissed her long and passionately, our tongues battling for position in the other's mouth. The fires of passion simmered. I felt myself harden as I held her tight against me. Her nipples responded as her braless breasts rubbed against my suit coat thru the thin material of the wife-beater she was wearing.

"Mumm...keep kissing me and squeezing my ass like that and I won't be so worried," She whispered in my ear, the heat increasing down below as she reached up to loosen my tie.

Fighting the urge to help relieve her worry, I reluctantly broke the kiss and stepped back. "I'm sorry Anna but we can't right now. I have to get going."

Knowing I was right but not willing to give in so easily, she put on her best pouty face. "But Sam, I'm so horny."

I smiled a knowing smile, bent to kiss her on the forehead, and answered, "Don't worry Anna, I promise to do something about that soon. But right now, I have to go. Church starts in two hours and I have to put the finishing touches on my first sermon. You do want me to make a good first impression, don't you? Now, be a good preacher's wife and get dressed." Starting for the door, I paused and looked back at my wife. "And Anna, please don't forget your bra and panties this time." A much-needed warning. She had a propensity for forgetting them at the previous church.

It took all my will-power to turn and walk away from my beautiful wife. All 5'3" of her. An absolute living angel. Brunette hair hanging down between her shoulder blades, green eyes that looked bottomless, and a 25-year-old body so slim and youthful looking that people regularly mistook her for my daughter. At this particular moment, that same living angel was standing in the middle of the kitchen wearing the afore mentioned wife-beater and a pair of silk panties that would struggle to double as dental floss...and nothing else. I walked across the lawn to the church, hoping this boner would go away before I got there, all the while telling myself what a fool I was to walk away from what waited for me just on the other side of that door.

I was somehow able to erase the vision of lust I had left standing in the kitchen and prepare for my Sunday morning sermon. Anna made her normal appearance as was expected of any preacher's wife. Dressed conservatively in a modest button-at-the-collar blouse and jacket that topped a floor length skirt, she was the epitome of the kind, loving example for all the other women of the church to look up to. If they only knew.

After the choir set the mood with several hymnals, I delivered a rousing hellfire and brimstone message, warning the congregation of the consequences of not living a faithful life and reminding them to raise their children as the good lord expected them to. I even got in the compulsory plug for supporting their church financially. After church I did what all good preachers do. I stood at the front of the church with Anna by my side and shook hands and thanked the members for their support.

As the head deacon, it was a given that Cliff Thompson and his wife Susan would feed the minister and his wife on their first Sunday at their church. So, we drove the 5 miles out to their farm. This was your typical small southern farming community. Everyone lived on a farm. Even the few people who worked in the small town lived on a farm.

The Thompsons were no different. Cliff and Susan looked to be in their late-40's with 3 kids, 2 girls and a boy. Cliff worked his farm and Susan taught elementary school. Their oldest daughter, Heather, was 21 and home for the weekend from college. Cynthia was 17 and Jake was 15. Cliff was a big man with the rough hands and weathered skin of a man who spent his life outdoors. Susan was only slightly taller than Anna with the same slim appearance, though her blonde hair and slightly larger breasts set her apart from my Anna. Even with the obvious life-on-the-farm look, she was a very attractive woman.

After lunch we said our thanks and goodbyes and headed back home. We hadn't gone a mile before Anna cocked her head toward me and, with the evil smile I've grown accustomed to, she quipped, "You wanta fuck her, don't you?"

Attempting innocence and trying to be ever the good preacher, I asked, "Whatever do you mean?"

"Ha...you know what I mean. You wanta bend Mrs. Thompson over the desk in your study and fuck her. You can't fool me Samuel Adam Dixon, Jr. I saw the way you looked at her. You undressed her with your eyes. And...to tell the truth, I wouldn't mind helping you undress her. She's a hottie. So, don't play dumb with me."

She had me. I couldn't dispute what she said. She was a hottie. And...yes, I would like to do just what Anna described. Agreeing with her but trying at the same time to deflect some of the heat, I replied, "Yes Susan is an attractive woman. Not that you noticed. What with you locked in on the bulge in Mr. Thompson's dress pants."

She, in turn, never even tried to deny it. "On my goodness, Sam. Did you see it? It looked like he was carrying a stick of firewood down there. I got wet just imaging what he could do to my innocent little pussy."

Laughing at her I answered, "Yeah, I did notice when I saw you gawking at it. And for the record Mrs. Dixon, I happen to know that the cute little pussy of yours is not so innocent." And then I caught her off-guard with my next question. "So...are you saying you are ready to move from the deacon's wife to the deacon himself?"

Her eyes twinkled teasingly. "Maybe...since I never got a chance to fully explore the sizable attributes of Reverend Wilson. Maybe Deacon Thompson could 'fill that void' so to speak. What would you think if he did?"

Surprising her and myself at the same time, I replied, "I think that would be fucking hot. Of course, I would need to find a way to keep Mrs. Thompson bury while you were 'getting to know' the good deacon better."

"Oh my, aren't you full of surprises. And thank you for volunteering to make such a sacrifice. That's very noble of you."

Laughing at her fake appreciation I asked, "So...do you think Susan is shaved or un-shaved?"

"You mean shaved smooth like this?" With that, she lifted her church-lady skirt to show me her clean shaven and slightly moist pussy, sans panties. She smiled like the cat that ate the canary.

"Anna, you little slut. I thought I told you to wear underwear to church..."

_______________

Let me stop here and catch you up. My name is Samuel Adam Dixon, Jr. I am 30 years old and the "Son of a Preacher Man". Yep, that's right. I'm a second-generation protestant minister. I won't mention the particular branch to protect all that is sacred. I grew up in the shadow of the great Samuel Adam Dixon, Sr. A man revered and feared far and wide for his ability to strike fear and redemption in even the most hardened souls.

The mere mention of my father's name in the great Northwest was good for a pat on the back and seemingly never-ending accolades as to his abilities and godliness. The mention of my name in that same area of the country, on the other hand, was recognized for an entirely different reason now days. Although it didn't start out that way.

I was the good son. Committed to following in my father's footsteps as a senior in high school, it was a given that I would get my college degree and go straight to the seminary. Then I would be ready to take up where my aging father was destined to one day leave off. I got the first two parts of that right. I did graduate college and finish the seminary. And then fate threw me a curve ball.

The name of that curve ball was Anna Marie Livingston. She was a waitress at the IHOP near the seminary. We became friends as a result of my frequent visits. We even went on a few platonic dates. You see, I was, at the time, a borderline virgin. Though not a full-fledged virgin, my sexual experience consisted of what Laura Burton could teach me in the back seat of my dad's Buick my freshman year in college. You see, Laura was also a preacher's kid so she knew the struggle was real. She convinced me I could pray for forgiveness the next Sunday and then proceeded to give me my first basic lesson in the birds and the bees. I dated her a couple of times to get the basics down but then I surrendered to my feelings of guilt and stopped seeing her.

By the time I met Anna, she was already experienced in the 'ways of the world'. Her early life could not have been more different than the sterile world I grew up in. The child of a broken home with an absentee father and a mother who drank to forget about that absentee father, Anna pretty much raised herself and her younger sister. A street toughened girl who, for reasons I still can't completely grasp, took a liking to this preacher's kid.

Trying to remain true to my religious commitment, our dates remained non-sexual. Usually consisting of a movie and a walk around campus afterwards where I tried to save her soul and she tried to convince me there was life on the other side. Even when we ended up in my apartment after the movies, I stayed true. We finally called a truce and stuck to movies and walks. That agreement lasted right up until graduation day. I was no honor student but I managed to graduate the seminary. I was now a full-fledged 'man of the cloth'.

I invited Anna to my celebration dinner with my parents and friends. Anna was a complete sweetheart during the dinner, winning over my mother and everyone else. Then she went back to my apartment with me and, as a graduation present, proceeded to fuck my brains out. She did things and showed me things that I never knew humans were capable of. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how she eventually became Mrs. Anna Dixon.

_______________

I started my ministerial career as the youth minister at a church not far from the seminary...and the IHOP where Anna worked. I like to think of it as fate that kept us close to each other. Although our religion didn't object to dating, they did frown on sex outside of marriage. As a fully vested representative of that religion, I also was opposed to pre-marital sex, well...that was my official stance anyway. That opposition usually lasted right up to the point where I snuck Anna into the little cottage the church provided for me. By the time she pranced thru the back door my resolve was weakening. When she stood at the bedroom door naked, begging me to 'fuck her eyes out', any opposition I might have felt was long gone.

Ok...I admit I'm weak man. I admit that what I was doing would not bode well in the eyes of the church. Judge me if you will, but...damn she was sexy and I was fully under her spell. For scientific clarification, I did not fuck her eyes out. However, her eyes may have been the only two cavities that went unused. Yes, she loves oral sex. And, yes, she loves anal sex. She quickly taught me to like them both as well. Hell, she just loves sex, and lots of it. To say she is insatiable would be a gross understatement.

Anna liked to talk about fucking almost as much as she liked to fuck. Between the heated fuck-fests that usually lasted until just before sunrise (she had to make her escape before daylight to save my reputation) she would regale me with tales of her past exploits, with both men and women. Some of them were almost unbelievable. As demented as it may sound, those tales of unbridled sex usually sped up my recovery time. It excited me in a way I couldn't explain at the time. It also made me think that I would like to experience some of what Anna had lived thru. I even told her that I would. She assured me that, if I hung around her long enough, I would experience a lot. I was hooked. Hey...I already admitted I'm a weak man.

Sex with Anna was amazing. I guess for a guy like me, any sex would have been amazing, but with Anna it was just so different than what I had imagined lying in bed at night holding my best friend in my hand trying to visualize what was out there in the world that the seminary professors spoke so strongly against. I wondered years later if it was that overt condemnation of those worldly things that was the catalyst for my curiosity and at least part of the reason I sold my soul to the devil and to Anna Marie Livingston.

Anna's lithe little body was a bit of a contrast to my 6'3" frame. I was slim in stature but towered over her by a foot. She seemed weightless during sex. I could go on for days about the things and the positions she taught me. She loved to lay me on my back and sink down on me reverse cowboy style (yes, she also taught me the names of all the positions). She would put her hands on my knees for balance and then I would hold her by the hips and literally use her body to jack off. Not only was she a sexual dynamo, she was multi-orgasmic. Could it get any better?

My little cottage was not that far from the head minister's house so, not only was sneaking Anna in and out a bit tricky. Keeping her screams of ecstasy under control was an even greater challenge. Let's review. A screaming, multi-orgasmic nymphomaniac. Yea, I'm a lucky man. The very first night she spent with me I realized just what I was up against. As I said earlier, she was standing naked at the bedroom door begging to be fucked. So, I tried my best.

I picked her up and carried her to my bed. I pitched her onto the bed and began to undress. Stretched across the bed, she fished my semi-hard penis out of my pants and was lavishing it with kisses. By the time I had my shirt off, she had swallowed it down her throat. I don't have porn star quality equipment down below but she says I'm above average (slightly over 8" we would confirm later via Anna's measurement). She slathered me with kisses as I struggled to finish undressing. Guys, have you ever tried to take off your pants, underwear, and shoes while a sexy little minx is busy swallowing your dick? Then you understand.

Finally naked myself, I stood beside the bed and let her have her way with my best friend. I put my hands on her head and guided her back and forth on my shaft per her instructions. Before long I felt the tell-tale tightening in my groin. Her tongue was working magic on me. She would pull back until just the tip was in her mouth and twirl her tongue around the head as she gently massaged my testicles. Then she would slowly take me down her throat until her nose was buried in my pubic hair while that sweet little tongue stroked the veins on the underside of my hardened dick.

She repeated this several times as I grew closer and closer to release. I fought hard but lost the battle. I exploded in her mouth. The first burst shot down her throat before she could pull back. Then with just the head in her mouth she captured the rest of my load in her hungry mouth. When my penis started to soften, evidence that she had all I had to give, she slipped me from her mouth, tilted her head back and opened her mouth to show me her reward, then swallowed my cum as she held her eyes locked to mine. Damn...I'm a lucky man.

Unable to stand any longer and anxious to return the favor, I crawled onto the bed beside her. Taking her in my arms I held her close and thanked her. The kiss we shared still had the remnants of my release. She told me she loved that taste of me cum and I decided it wasn't that bad myself. We snuggled for a few minutes before I rolled her onto her back.

Moving down between her legs, I spread them to give me access to the center of her being. I was somewhat new at this but a willing student. This was my first real attempt at cunnilingus besides an awkward effort on graduation night. She had given me the basics so I was feeling more confident in my abilities. Oh, and she had informed me that cunnilingus was what happened in romance novels. She said I was not performing cunnilingus on her; I was eating her pussy. So...in my newly trained attempt at 'eating her pussy' I started at her feet.

Taking each foot, one at a time, I kissed and licked around and between her toes. Then, it was soft kisses around her ankles and calves, alternating legs as I worked my way up. By the time I began kissing the inside of her thighs she was cooing softly and uttering quiet words of encouragement. By the time I got to the intersection of her legs she was begging me to dive right in. As much as I wanted to do just that, I had been instructed that there were other areas to explore. She had described it in detail and told me it was guaranteed to bring satisfaction any woman. She added that it had worked on every woman she had ever tried it on. I almost had an orgasm just from the visual that flashed thru my increasingly deviant mind.

I kissed and licked up her left leg until I was almost at her sensitive outer lips. Then skipping over them, I worked my way down her right leg almost to her knee. Back up again I moved across her opening, never touching but blowing soft air kisses on her moistening lips. On the second pass, I lightly pulled my tongue thru her slit. The groans became moans. The soft touches transitioned into full on licks as her juices flowed freely. Apparently, I was a good student. Unable to resist any longer, she grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into her pussy.

I let instinct take over. Grabbing her hips and pulling her to me, I sank my tongue as far as I could reach into her flooding pussy. Running my tongue thru her pussy from her clit to her asshole, I was licking and slurping like my life depended on it. Her body bucked against my face as I struggled to drink all she gave me, praying the whole time that she didn't wake the minister or his wife.

Her body had hardly stopped shaking when she rolled me onto my back and mounted me in the afore mentioned reverse cowboy, impaling herself on me in one motion. Already on the road to recovery, I was soon fully erect in her. I lasted only slightly longer than I had during the blow job but managed to hang on until she had either several or one long continuous orgasm, the last one as I released what cum I had left into her already soaking wet pussy. Finally sated, at least momentarily, she lay back on me and relaxed while I stroked her stomach and sexy little breasts. The rest of the night was a blur of sucking and fucking until we were both covered in cum soaked sweat. I barely had enough energy to help her sneak out of the cottage and sneak away.