The Preacher's Wife Ch. 02

Cathy Modeno sat in her car, staring across the street at the two-story house. She gripped the wheel with her small hands, knuckles white from the pressure. The house belonged to Taylor, the man who had fucked her at the church while she was drunk.

Cathy had been going to ignore it, and just hoped that it would go away, but she had decided this afternoon that she would have to confront Taylor, and tell him that if he tried anything else she would go to the police and have him fired and arrested.

So she had looked his address up on the internet and driven out here. The wind whipped down the wide street, and Cathy finally got up the nerve to get out of the car. She had driven past the place three times, and finally had gone to a local pub and gotten some of that delicious lemonade that her neighbor had given her.

That was the stuff that caused all this, she thought to herself as she got out of the car. Liquor really was the devils blood. She thought to herself that she walked a fairly straight line to the door.

She gripped the coat about her tighter, and caught herself wishing that she had taken the time to put on different clothes. Beneath the winter coat she was wearing she had on her shortest skirt, a pleated thing that hung almost to her knees; on top of that she had a soft knit zip up top. She had made sure that the zipper was all the way to the base of her throat, but she had realized at the last minute that the knit top was a size or two to small. Her mother had gotten it for her birthday and this had been the first day she put it on.

The gray knit top clung to her slightly curved tummy and large, round titties. She realized that the stub of her nipples and the line of bra where her titflesh pushed out was easily visible.

But, a short trench coat had taken care of that.

She had her hair up in a tight bun, and had applied a coating of glistening pink to her lips, the only makeup she would wear.

She knocked on the door, rehearsing what to say. She would not even go in, she would tell him what she needed to tell him right here on the porch! She thought to herself.

Cathy nodded decisively, but when the door opened and there was a black man standing there, perhaps five years younger than her she was caught by surprise. "Umm, is Taylor here?" she asked, suddenly nervous under the direct gaze of the young black man. How could such a young person exude such confidence?

"Yeah, he downstairs," the young black man said, eyeing the gorgeous woman standing on the porch. Cathy didn't think he could have been much over nineteen, the age she thought most young men should be in college.

Cathy started to ask the young man to get Taylor, but the man shook his head before she even got the first sentence out. "You got to come in, he's in the middle of a game," the nineteen year old said, and reached out and grabbed her arm, leading her inside the house.

Cathy looked around, surprised that the house was clean and decorated as it was. The black man's hand was still holding her arm, and as he walked he said, "My names Truck."

"Umm, I'm Kathy," she replied, and her stomach lurched again as the slim black man led her down a wide set of stairs.

She saw Taylor's big frame right away - he was sitting at a table with five other men, and there were cards and money and chips on the table. She marched right up to him. When he looked at her, his eyes were flat and nearly emotionless.

What she was sure of was that there was no fear in those eyes.

Taylor studied her, and spoke before she could, "Go wait in the kitchen with truck and Reg," Taylor said. "I'm busy here. I'll come as soon as I can."

His voice brooked no argument. There was a flash somewhere to her left, and Truck smilingly led her from the big smoky room into a long kitchen. "I'll make you a drink," Truck said. Cathy smiled and let herself be led along till she was leaning on a small, narrow cutting table, about waist high.

Another large black man came in; Reg was six inches over six feet and had huge arms and shoulders. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Reg said, taking her tiny hand in his. Cathy stared up at the man, awed by his size.

"Yo, Truck fix this lady one a my special lemon drops, bro!"

"What's that?" Cathy asked. Reg smiled down at her, and leaned against the counter top beside her.

"My special blend is a mixture of natural herbs - it should perk you up. You want me to take your coat?" Reg suddenly asked.

Cathy shook her head. "No, thank you, I'll just be here for a few minutes, I just have to straighten something out with Taylor."

"Cool, baby. Here's your drink. Do it like this, take this small glass in one or two gulps, and then bite and suck on this lemon. That'll fix you right up," Reg said, and smiled as the stupid broad drank the vodka and bit and sucked on the powder coated lemon.

Cathy made a face as the bitterness of the lemon mixed with the bitterness of the powder. Truck already had another one ready when she put the first down. She shook her head, but Reg pushed it into her hand.

She noticed another flash as she did this shot, and this time the taste was not as bad. In fact, her whole head going numb! The two black guys entertained her, talking about all kinds of stuff. After a period of time, Cathy felt herself beginning to sweat.

"When is Taylor going to come, guys?" she said, pouting. She realized she was fucked up, and not just on the alcohol. Her body seemed to be extra sensitive, and she could feel her nipples crinkled up, hard as little pieces of cork.

"When he's in a game, you got to wait on him baby." Truck said, and then reached out and unfastened the top button of her jacket. "You look kinda hot there, Cathy. What say we take this coat off?"

Well, she was warm, and these were really nice guys, not like Taylor. Thought of Taylor turned her stomach, gave her a hollow feeling that she did not like. She paid little attention as Truck finished unbuttoning her jacket, then he was peeling the jacket down from her shoulders and arms.

"Whoooo!" Truck said, looking at her with wide, smiling eyes. Cathy blushed as Truck openly surveyed her body. Then she saw Reg lean forward, till his mouth was right at her slim throat.

A shiver went through her body when his warm breath washed over her throat. "What scent is that?" Reg asked, and this time his thick lips actually brushed the silky skin of her throat, a breath again cascaded across her fine throat.

A shiver swept through the middle aged wife, and she realized suddenly that her pussy was actually getting wet.

Cathy shifted slightly; Reg's hands were on her hips, and his lips, red hot, were now kissing and brushing her silky throat. Cathy knew she should not let the man kiss her like that, she should push him away.

But the pleasurable shivers racing through her body made her arms seem to weigh a thousand pounds. She felt something lurch against her hip, and then he turned her a bit more so that her plush, round ass was pressed slightly against his crotch.

Cathy went very still. The man's big hands on her hips pulled her back tighter to him, and Cathy's breath froze in her throat as she felt Reg's cock lurch against her soft ass cheeks. She could feel it excellently through her thin dress and the shorts Reg was wearing.

"So what's up with Taylor?" Truck asked her. Cathy blearily focused her eyes on the slim man in front of her. Her hands found Reg's wrists, and she gripped his wrists and tried to pull his hands off of her lush hips.

Her wriggling did not do anything but work her soft ass even tighter against his straining cock, so the fat length was trapped in between her asscheeks. Cathy bit her lower lip, and tried again to pry his wrists loose, tried again to wriggle out from his grasp, all the time thinking what to tell Truck.

"Umm, he . . . he took advantage of me," Cathy finally said, and gave up trying to pull Reg's hands off of her hips. She realized he was sitting on stool; his legs extended to either side of her. She realized also that by sitting on the stool his fat rock hard cock was right at the level of her plush ass.

Cathy shut her eyes for a moment, and then decided to just ignore whatever Reg did. She could not stop him anyway, she rationalized, and surely he wouldn't go too far in an apartment full of men.

"What do you mean he took advantage of you?" Truck asked. "You know, you still look hot, let me open this shirt for you a bit," he said, and then reached up so smoothly that he had pulled the zipper of the tight top down to where he could see her deep cleavage, but not quite the bra.

"He . . . he came into my office and saw me with my dress open, and then he . . . umm, he felt me up," Cathy finished in a whisper. She realized she was still twisting a bit, and blushed when she realized she was accomplishing nothing but grinding her soft ass back against Reg's raging hard-on.

She stood stock still then; something told her to reach up and zip up the shirt again, but for some reason she could not seem to let go of Reg's thick wrists. She looked down at her shirt, and reasoned that there was not that much cleavage showing.

"How much was your dress unbuttoned?" Truck asked. He reached out and touched her shoulder in a gesture of care, and smiled at her.

"Well, I was kinda drunk, and hot, and I had forgotten that my dress was undone at all," Cathy said, afraid to answer the question.

Truck grazed his fingertips down her left arm, and his palm seemingly by accident brushed against the side of her breast. "How many buttons were undone?" Truck asked again. "Because I know Taylor, and he don't force anybody to do anything. Maybe you were so drunk you just didn't realize what was happening."

His palm brushed against the side of Cathy's breast again, and she twisted despite herself. "God, I know what happened. Anyway, it was undone enough for him to see my bra," she said.

"So about this low?" Truck asked, and reached up and pulled the zipper of her top down till it was undone to just above her belly button. Truck's fingers stayed on the zipper tab; Cathy stared down at his hand and then said in a thick voice, 'Yeah, about that far, I guess."

"Did you have the same type of bra on?" Truck asked.

"No, this one is satin," Cathy said softly. The bra was blue, and still a half cut bra. It pushed her already big tits out, and her stubby nipples were right at the edge of the cups. "It was cut about the same. The other one was silk."

"And this one is satin?" Truck asked, casually brushing aside the jacket so that her right breast was completely exposed.

"Yeah, it's really soft," Cathy said.

"Do you mind if I feel it?" Truck asked.

Kathy did not know later what she was thinking; she just said yes, and then Trucks fingers were grazing the front of her bra. "That is soft," Truck said, and then he was rubbing the satin harder.

Cathy blew out a deep breath as the young man began rolling and squeezing her big, almost cantaloupe sized breast around on her chest. She was barely aware of when his other hand finished unzipping the top so he could push it out of the way. "Umm, I think that's enough, Truck," she finally said. She was leaning back against Reg now, and she was trying to ignore the fact that he was helping her roll her hips so his cock moved tighter and tighter against her asscheeks.

"Is this how Taylor was taking advantage of you?" Truck asked, squeezing her big, firm tits harder.

"Unnnn, uhnhbnn, no, truck, don't do that!" Cathy wailed, and then nodded. Her hands were still locked on Reg's wrists. She shifted slightly, and then somehow broke out from between the two men.

She looked at them, and then she looked at truck. "He put me up on the desk, and then he . . . I don't even like to think about it!" Cathy said. She clutched her shirt closed, but did not think to zip it back up. Her head was spinning, and she gasped when Reg suddenly picked her up, swung her around and set her on the small cutting table.

"Did he feel your legs up?" whispered Reg, and slipped his hand to the inside of her knee. He leaned forward, and allowed his lips to brush her throat again. He whispered again against her throat, "Did he feel your legs up?"

"Yes," Cathy said softly.

"Is that how you were sitting?" truck asked.

Cathy shook her head no; her legs were pressed tightly together, and she was still clutching her shirt closed.

"Sit how you were sitting then, Cathy," Truck said. He smiled at the beautiful bitch. Her head was actually leaning to one side now, so that Reg's mouth could kiss and lick and suck at her throat.

"I . . . I don't think I want to do that," Cathy said softly, looking away from Trucks cold eyes.

But his gaze was hypnotic; his flat black eyes held hers, and his voice seemed to make sense for some reason: "Cathy, come on, were just trying to find out what happened. Maybe you remembered things wrong for some reason. Now, think up till now - did you scream or try to hit him or try to run away? Maybe sitting like you were then will help you remember," Truck's voice like honey, floating through the air.

Cathy knew she was high, but what he said made a kind of twisted sense. "I told him to stop," she pouted. Her lips were painted a glistening pink, her face bespoke of breeding and quality, and her body . . . her body was heaven itself.

Truck stared at her, and she slowly moved her arms away from her chest; she left the shirt closed, but not zipped. She stared at Truck as she put her slim arms behind her and leaned back on her hands.

The shifting of her body caused her legs to part just a bit, and Reg's big, hot hand slipped further up the inside of her thigh, then began tracing down and back up, down and back up

The feel of the man's hot fingers on the bare silky skin of her thigh made Cathy breath out a long sigh. She shifted again when Truck flicked the halves of the sweater apart, exposing the woman's taut, rounded tummy and her big, firm tits stuffed in the little bra.

"Umm, he . . . he pulled my bra down to," Cathy murmured, staring at something across the room.

"And you didn't scream during any of this?" Truck asked, his hands reaching out, tracing the swell of her hips, then the lean flank of her waist. "You didn't try to fight him, or run, or anything?"

Cathy could not look at truck; she just bit her lower lip, and then muttered, "I was drunk."

"You're drunk now," Truck said, and then slipped his hands upwards. He did not pull the bra cups down, but instead reached one agile finger and loosed the small catch that lay between her breasts.

"Truck, please," Cathy gasped as her firm breasts spilled out of the little bra. Truck smiled at her; she was still sitting still, still leaning back on her hands with her back slightly arched. He pushed the bra and the shirt down her shoulders and slim arms.

Cathy stared straight ahead as the boy examined her breasts. They were nearly the size of cantaloupes, almost perfectly round but with a slight upswept teardrop, at the end of which was her nipples.

They were brown on the pale globes of her breast. Truck reached out and began lightly pinching and twisting her nut brown nipples. A soft sob was torn from Cathy's throat, and once again she shifted on the hard table top, once again her legs spread a bit further apart.

She looked down her body, saw Truck's hands now pinching and squeezing the whole tip part of her breast, then he was cupping her mounds in his big, hot hands and squeezing and rolling them around, as though not believing how firm and resilient they were.

Cathy looked down at her body; she saw Reg spreading her legs a bit further, saw his hands pushing her skirt up. He was rubbing the inner thigh of her right leg all the way to the juncture of her slim, muscular legs.

And then again, and again, and finally his hand moved over her tight panties.

'Ohn, god, ohn, god, ohn god!" Cathy knew she should do something, she knew she should do something right now! She should push Reg's hand away, she should not roll her hips against his hand the way she was doing, and she should not just stare at him as he ripped away her flimsy panties.

"Ohn, noooo, please, guys, please don't fuck me!" pleaded the preachers wife.

Truck suddenly smiled, and said in a soft voice, "You don't wanna fuck Reg? That's cool, Cathy." He reached around behind her with one hand, and started playing with her ass, squeezing the large, firm moons strong enough to draw a grunt from Cathy; and with his right hand he continued rubbing and squeezing her breasts.

Cathy could not think what she should do, she should do something about this but she was not sure what. There was another flash, which she did not register. She saw Reg jumping up to sit on the table.

Truck shoved her forward. She ran into Reg, and gasped at the size of his cock. It was at least a foot long, and big around. Reg grabbed her and hugged her to him. His cock was right at the level her proud, firm breasts.

"Jack me off and I won't fuck you," Reg said nonchalantly, and then pushed her away slightly. He grabbed ahold of her right wrist and pressed her palm to his fat, rock hard shaft.

Cathy whimpered as the man forced her fingers around his stiff tool; her fingers could barely reach around it. She felt Truck pulling her feet backwards, so she was bent at the waist, her head suddenly on the same level as Reg's thigh.

Cathy could not resist the urge to squeeze the fat shaft pulsing in her hand. She could not believe this was a cock; it was too big, too powerful. She traced her hand up to the bulbous head of Reg's shaft; she squeezed the plum sized knob despite herself, and then slid her sweaty little hand back to the base of Reg's fat, powerful cock.

"Ohnnnnn, mmmnnnnnnn!" she sighed and gasped as something mushy but hard was suddenly rubbing against her pouting pussy lips. An unseen hand pushed a little more curve to her back, and then the fat knob was slowly invading Cathy's tight, juicy pussy.

Cathy could not stop the loud moan that issued from her lips at the feel of the man behind her slowly rocking her backwards and forwards with his hands on her hips, each time he rocked her backwards he would lean forwards.

Cathy's pussy was already spasming and the man had not got half of it in yet. Cathy felt hands on her head then, tangled in her hair, guiding her head. The tip of Reg's fat cock bumped into her cheek, and then he was adjusting her slightly. This time when she rocked forward, the fat knob bumped into her lips. She had been opening her mouth to protest; she felt her teeth scrape the velvety knob, and through sheer instinct allowed her jaw to droop far enough open so that before she knew it, Reg's fat cock was resting inside the plush ring of her lips, pulsing hotly on her tongue.

The first orgasm took Cathy completely by surprise; the waves of bliss washing through her body had her moaning loudly around the fat cock stuffed in her mouth. She was aware, on some level, that they were rocking her backwards and forwards between them, two cocks at once impaling her trembling, quivering body.

She would have collapsed had she not been held between them, and then they were both getting off. She swallowed the sperm shooting into her mouth through pure instinct; Reg had her by the ears and would not allow her to pull her head away until she had swallowed all of his sperm.

Cathy stumbled into the room with all the men a few minutes later, dressed but without the coat, and without her bra. She sat down on the couch, and a few minutes later two men joined her.

She blinked at them, and reached up to make sure the zipper was all the way up. A part of her knew this would do no good, but it was a part she had blocked out. She looked in shock as the man on her left, a man old enough to be her father, leisurely skinned his shorts down and smiled at her dazed expression.