A Proper Baptist Ch. 04

Oliver buttoned the top button of his white shirt and picked up the collar, the white band to fit around his neck, but he could only look at it in his hand. Somehow, he didn't feel like he could wear it anymore. He put it down again, next to a thing he thought he would never in his life have any desire or need to purchase, a box of condoms. Why he bought them he couldn't say. He didn't even know how to use them. But he hoped to learn, and have a chance to use them for what they were designed.

His heart pounded in his chest as he opened the box and removed one of the small, red packets. His penis stirred and grew stiff. It couldn't be that hard to figure out, could it?

He looked at himself in the mirror, turning his face side to side. He never considered himself handsome, but Marcie seemed quite attracted to him. Was that true of other women as well? Was she attracted to him because he was handsome, or because of what he had in his pants? He sighed. Was that so bad?

His penis stretched the front of his black slacks. He pulled the zipper down, reached in and pulled it out, letting it hang in the air, and stepped back to see it in the mirror.

It was long, to be sure. There were many times since he was a young man that he experienced an erection, but never paid much attention. The Bible said a person should avoid the pleasures of the flesh. It was exactly those pleasures that Marcie exposed him to, and now the world was an entirely different place in his eyes.

He closed his hand around his penis. It was hot and as hard as a piece of wood, and hung more than halfway to his knees. Before Marcie said she thought it was big he never considered that it might have a size, or that different men might have different sizes. Such concepts were completely foreign.

He moved his hand slowly along its length and back. He closed his eyes and moaned. Certainly, he shouldn't think such things about her, but what other pleasures of the flesh were there to experience with a woman? When she put his penis in her mouth, that was the most exquisite-

He heard a knock on his bedroom door and quickly stuffed his penis back into his slacks.

"Yes?" he said.

"Oliver, do you want butter or margarine for your pancakes?" Joann said.

"Uh, butter will be fine."

"All right. Don't be long. Your breakfast is getting cold."

Oliver held his breath, waiting, then let it out and his shoulders slumped. A month ago it sounded like a good idea to invite his sister to visit. Now, however ...

He held his hands over the front of his slacks, as if Joann might see through the door. His penis was still hard and hung down the leg of his slacks. Would she notice? He removed his hands, looked in the mirror and shook his head. How could she miss it?

He waited as long as he dared, pacing the length of his room a few times, but it never went soft. Joann was going to be furious with him. She would know what was on his mind, would know that he was contemplating sex. Her parish was much stricter than his own, especially in matters of the flesh. He could only imagine how she would vilify him were she ever to learn of his sexual relations with an eighteen year old girl.

He turned his eyes up to the ceiling. Usually, this was where he would cross himself and beg for guidance, but since his recent experiences, he began to feel there was nothing up there but the ceiling.

Joann had the table set, stacked with pancakes and eggs and bacon, just as she piled the table every morning and every evening for dinner. Already, he was stuffed just looking at it. He was sure her cooking had put ten pounds on him in the short time she'd been there. If he kept eating like that, neither Marcie nor any woman would find him attractive, no matter the dimensions of the device hanging down his slacks.

Joann was at the sink, rinsing a pan. When she turned around she had a big smile. Her dark hair was fixed in a bun and she wore her plain, round spectacles, and her white collar was fixed neatly around her neck.

"Well sit, Oliver, sit," she said.

He pulled out the chair. Her eyes glanced down at his crotch and her smile fell and she looked away quickly. She sat at the opposite side of the table, and her face was red.

He put a little of everything on his plate. On his eggs he sprinkled some salt and pepper. On the pancakes he put butter and a bit of syrup. His penis was still hard and when he hoped Joann wasn't looking, he reached under the table and rubbed it through his slacks.

Joann cleared her throat.

"Oliver, you're not wearing your collar this morning. Have you decided it's too heavy?" she said. She cut each bite of her pancakes into neat squares.

He put his fork down. "I, um, have decided to take a brief sabbatical from the church."

"A sabbatical?"

"Yes. I need some time to reevaluate my beliefs."

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened."

They were quiet for a bit. She ate her pancakes in neat, square bites, then switched to the eggs. He could not bring himself to raise his fork again.

"Aren't you hungry?" she said.

"No, I-"

"Is it a woman, Oliver?"

His heart jumped up to his throat. "Excuse me?"

"Is it a woman? Have you been tempted?"

"Tempted?" He didn't know how to answer. He couldn't lie to his sister's face. "I recently met someone who was in trouble and I don't think I was much help."

"Did you do everything you could?"

"No, I don't think I did."

How could he tell her that not only did he not help Marcie with her problem, he encouraged her in the practice that got her in trouble in the first place. When she attempted to swallow his penis he didn't try to stop her, but actually pushed it deeper.

Joann refilled her glass of milk and put the pitcher down. She nodded, but looked troubled. She reached across the table and patted his hand.

"I understand. God understands, too. Remember, God will always be there for you when you are ready to return."

"Yes," Oliver said.

Joann's smile was thin and her lips were pinched. He picked up his fork and dug into the scrambled eggs. If she knew what he was thinking, he wasn't so sure she or God would understand.

He drove slowly to the church. The business he had to finish there he was not anxious to face. Besides, he had not yet figured out how he would tell Pastor Nowicki of his decision to take a sabbatical. He would have a fit, of course, but it would be nothing compared to how he would lose his mind if he found out his apprentice had his penis in the mouth of one of his eighteen year old parishioners.

The door to his office was open. He went in and stopped in his tracks. Wendy was on her hands and knees on the floor in the middle of his office, her backside to the door. She was wearing a dark gray skirt with a slit at the side and was picking something out of the carpet. His eyes locked on her backside, especially the way the skirt was stretched and showed the lines of her panties underneath.

Wendy looked back over her shoulder and smiled.

"Oh hi, Pastor Oliver. I didn't know you were there," she said and pushed herself to her feet, holding a clear plastic box in the palm of her hand. "I'm afraid I knocked the paper clips off your desk. I'm really sorry."

"Forget about it Wendy. It's nothing."

She held out the paper clip holder and as he reached for it, he noticed the front of her blouse. A couple of the top buttons were open and he could see down inside. She had beautiful, large breasts squeezed into a black bra with a lacy fringe. Her curly, blonde hair was tied up in a bun at the back of her head and she had large glasses with thick frames that constantly slid down her nose and she constantly pushed back up.

"I'm really, really sorry. I just came in to put the list for next week's bake sale on your desk," she said.

She turned to point to the sheets of paper on his desk and he noticed the beautiful line of her jaw and her long, graceful neck. He felt his penis stir in his pants again. How many years had Wendy been a volunteer at the church and he never noticed her before?

"It's all right," he said, and put the paper clip holder on his desk.

"I guess I hit it with my elbow. I'm such a klutz," Wendy said.

She crouched to pick up a stray paper clip and as she rose again he saw her breasts jiggling under her blouse. She smiled, but he turned away. He could not even look at her smile without wondering how those full lips would look around his penis, or how it would feel to slide it between them into her mouth.

"Thank you, um, for the, um, the list."

"You're welcome." She clasped her hands together in front of her and rose on the balls of her feet once, which squeezed her breasts together between her arms and made them shake. Oliver coughed.

"Well, I guess I'll get back to work," she said and pointed to the door.

"Uh, Wendy. Maybe later, if you're not busy, maybe you'd like to get a cup of coffee with me," he said.

She paused, looking at him, framed in the doorway. Behind the large lenses, her eyes glanced left, then right.

"Ok, sure, I guess."

"Good. Ok."

She turned to walk out and his eyes dropped to her backside once again. It jiggled under her tight skirt with each step. He swallowed hard and rolled his eyes shut. He went around his desk and fell into his chair.

Good Lord. Wendy was what, nineteen? She was in college, of that he was certain. But was she attracted to him? He was certainly attracted to her, like he never thought he could be attracted to a woman. He reached under the desk, rubbed his erection and groaned. But how would she react if she saw his penis? Would she be shocked, like Marcie? Would she say the things about it that Marcie said? In his mind, he saw Marcie holding it to her lips, licking the end, then he saw Wendy in Marcie's place, her full lips stretching open, and he shook his head.

There was only one thing he could do. He had to make amends to Marcie. He couldn't live with himself for what he did to her. Later, when he was with Wendy ... Well, that would be different. But poor Marcie had to know the truth. He got up, went out and shut his office door.

At the end of the hall, Pastor Nowicki came around the corner and walked right toward him, wearing that wide grin that never left his face. Oliver hesitated. He grabbed the doorknob to go back into his office, but it was too late. Pastor Nowicki would find him no matter where he tried to hide.

"Pastor Oliver, how are you this fine day?" Pastor Nowicki said. He grabbed Oliver's right hand in both of his and pumped like he was trying to draw water from a well.

"Fine Pastor Nowicki. How are you?"

"Great, just great, God bless us all. Listen, Oliver, I hope you haven't forgotten about that meeting this afternoon. You agreed to speak to the girls."

"Meeting? I'm afraid I ..."

"The teen pregnancy meeting?" Pastor Nowicki said, his hands on his hips.

"Oh yeah, that meeting. Is that today?" Oliver said. He felt like he was sweating through his clothes.

"Yes, three o'clock this afternoon. Don't be late. Those girls are counting on you," Pastor Nowicki said as he walked away.

Oliver let out a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead. That was close. He walked out to his car. Without a doubt, he would be back well before three o'clock. What he had to do should only take a few minutes, if Marcie could find it in her heart to forgive him.

His penis grew hard again on the short drive to her house. The more he thought about her, the harder it got. He ground his teeth and shifted in his seat so that his penis could stretch down the leg of his slacks. How could he allow himself to get aroused by thinking about an eighteen year old girl? What kind of man was he?

It was still hard when he parked his red Honda in the street in front of her house. He waited a few minutes to try to make his penis go soft, but it was no use. He would never get over his desire for Marcie until he confronted her and made his amends. Only then could he get on with his life and rediscover his position in the church.

Holding his hands together in front of him to attempt to hide the obvious bulge in the leg of his slacks, he walked up to the front door and pushed the doorbell button. Marcie's father opened the door and Oliver groaned silently when he saw the smile on the man's face.

"Pastor Oliver. What a surprise. What can I do for you today?" he said.

Oliver opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. What could he say to the man? That he wanted to apologize to his daughter for taking advantage of her, for making her take his penis in her mouth? No, that wouldn't be a good idea. He would kill him where he stood on his front porch.

"Um, I was hoping Marcie would be here."

"Sure, she's home. What's up?"

Oliver hesitated again with his mouth open to speak. As the words came out, he couldn't believe he was actually saying them.

"The church is sponsoring a discussion about teen pregnancy. I will be leading the discussion. I thought Marcie might want to take part," he said, and cringed. He wouldn't actually believe that, would he?

But Marcie's father looked like he was contemplating the suggestion.

"She just might. I'll let you ask her yourself. Come on in. She's in the back."

He left the door open. Oliver rolled his eyes and followed. They went through the house to the back yard. Marcie was in the lush grass beneath a tree with dark red leaves, playing with a small brown puppy dog. She was wearing soccer shorts and a white, cut-off sports top, and was on her hands and knees, her back end toward the house. The moment Oliver saw her, his erection twitched in his slacks. He covered it with his hands and swallowed hard. This was going to be more difficult than he thought.

"Marcie, honey, Pastor Oliver's here to see you," her father said.

She sat up with her legs under her, smiled and waved. She picked up the puppy and walked up to the back porch. She looked much different from the last time he saw her. Her chest was much larger. Her entire body had filled out, like that of a grown woman. When she came up the steps, her round breasts bounced. Oliver closed his eyes and shook his head. He had to remind himself that this woman-child was only eighteen years old.

"Hi Pastor Oliver. Did I miss church or something?" Marcie said.

"No, no, I just wanted to talk to you."

"Listen, I gotta get back to work or I'm not getting dinner tonight," her father said, and went back inside.

Oliver scratched the puppy on its head.

"That's a cute puppy. When did you get him?" Oliver said.

Marcie looked away. Her feet shifted like she was nervous.

"About a week ago," she said.

Oliver looked from the puppy to Marcie's face.

"It seems odd, but he sort of looks like you," he said. Marcie blushed. "I think I've decided to leave the church for a while. I have a few things to work out."

"Oh."

Oliver looked around to make sure her father wasn't listening at a window. He lowered his voice to a whisper.

"Can you ever forgive me for what I did to you?" he said.

"Forgive you? How can I forgive you?" she said.

He nodded. "I understand."

"No, I don't think you do understand."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't get it, do you?" Marcie said, with an angry tone to her voice.

"You're angry. What did I do?"

She frowned. "You didn't do anything. That's what I'm mad about."

"Marcie, I ... I don't know what to say."

"You could say you like me, that's a start," she said.

Oliver touched her shoulder. "But Marcie, I do like you."

When she spoke, her voice was a fierce whisper.

"Then why don't you want to fuck me? That's what I'm waiting for."

He chuckled, but could see that she was serious, and suddenly felt very sober.

"Marcie, that's the whole problem right there."

She looked confused. "Why is that a problem?"

Oliver looked down at the stained wooden planks under his feet, searching for an answer. It was so obvious. Why couldn't he find the words?

"Jesus Marcie, I could be a dead man. Your father would kill me if he knew I had my hands on you."

She shifted the puppy to her other arm. It pressed its head to her soft breast.

"No one has to know."

"But I know, you see? I know now something that I didn't know when I devoted myself to God, something I wasn't supposed to know and now ... now I don't know."

"Don't know what?"

Oliver sighed. Did he come here to make a confession or to apologize to her?

"I don't know if I can continue in the church after what I've learned, after what you've taught me about, well, about how much more there is in life. I need to find out more."

"More about what?" she said.

He lowered his voice again. "More about sex. You've opened up a whole new world for me."

"I did, didn't I?" She grinned and bit her lower lip. "Would you like to come up to my room? I'd like to show you something my Grandma gave me, something that reminds me of God when I'm not sure."

"Ok."

She left the puppy in a box lined with old towels and they went upstairs to her room. The walls were covered with posters and pictures of boy bands and cute young actors, and she had a dresser with a big mirror and a chair, and her bed was covered with a purple blanket. From a wooden box on the dresser she got a gold crucifix.

"This is it. My Grandma gave it to me. When I'm not sure, I hold this, then I know," she said.

"It's nice."

Oliver held it by the chain and let the cross spin. It sparkled in the light. For him, though, it no longer held the same comforting feelings. He put the crucifix back in her hand.

"Sometimes when I'm lonely I come up here to cry so no one can hear me," Marcie said. She fixed the chain around her neck and dropped the crucifix under the front of her cut-off top. "Pastor Oliver?"

"Yes?"

"Will you kiss me?"

"I can't, Marcie. You're too young. It's not right for you. It's too much of a risk for me.

She sighed. Her arms hung at her sides. Her lips were puffy and slightly parted. Her eyes looked down at the floor.

"Ok. Goodbye then."

"Goodbye," Oliver said.

They stood facing each other. Her wide eyes rose from the floor and looked into his. For just an instant she was no longer a child but a grown woman, and since the last time he saw her when she was on her knees in front of him with both hands on his penis, he wanted her, couldn't stand not having her.

He grabbed her wrist and dragged her to him. She yelped in surprise, then his mouth covered hers. Her lips opened and he plunged his tongue into her mouth, and she was moaning. Her arm was limp in his hand. He slipped his other hand around her slender waist and pulled her against him. His hand moved down her back and squeezed her ass.

Marcie rubbed herself on the hard lump in his slacks. She parted her knees so the hard ridge of his erection pressed directly against her warm crotch. Oliver pulled his lips away. A thin string of saliva stretched the gap between their lips. She was panting and her mouth hung open. Her eyelids fluttered open and she looked into his eyes.

"Oliver?" she said, her voice a hoarse whisper.

"Yes?"

"I have something else to show you. Would you like to see it?"

"What is it?"

She reached around and pulled his hand off her ass.

"What are you doing?"

"Just this," Marcie said.

She slipped his hand under the elastic waistband of her soccer shorts and her panties. He tried to resist, but she held his arm with both hands and pushed it down. He was holding his breath. They stared into each other's eyes. The tips of his fingers brushed through the few wispy hairs on her mound. His fingers touched her moist pussy lips and pushed into her slit.

"Oh God ... Oh God," she said. Her eyes closed and her lower lip quivered.

Oliver watched her face. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with his hand on a woman's private parts. But he was breathing hard himself and his heart was pounding in his chest like it was going to burst. He pushed his middle finger inside her. She moaned and he felt a roaring in his ears. His penis throbbed and ached, and was so hard he was sure it would rip through his good slacks.