A Pastoral Visit

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A mother expresses her appreciation for a youth pastor.
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Diarist
Diarist
8 Followers

(This story comes from a journal given to me by the man involved. He no longer works in ministry.)

I'd been a traveling youth minister for about ten years, now. The thing is, I lost my faith while I was still in seminary. I have no hostility toward any of it, but... I didn't believe anymore. What I discovered, though, was that in the traveling "ministry" business, it was mostly about the show. I was a performer, putting on an act more than anything else. I gave the audience what it wanted, and I was pretty good at it. I spent about half the year on the road with a "praise band" and some other cast and crew who put on a pretty good show for the teens and tweens of conservative-to-evangelical churches throughout the US.

In fairness, I wasn't the only one who wasn't all in on God. One of the sound techs was fairly open about his disbelief, and one of the guitarists had recently failed in his bid to be part of a heavy metal act. He was with us while he tried to find something else.

It was autumn when we brought the youth revival show to a small town in South Carolina, and we'd be there for a week. We'd open at the Sunday morning service, hold events each evening, and then have a wrap-up the next Sunday. That was when I met Jack (all names are changed, of course), a high school boy who was being teased because he wasn't stereotypically male enough. He was called gay, but wasn't sure that he was. To be honest, he wasn't sure that he wasn't, either. He wanted some advice, and imagined that I was the right guy to talk to.

So, I talked to him. We chatted for about an hour, during which I told him that whoever he really was, was what God made him to be. If that meant being an artist and a musician rather than a football player, there was nothing wrong with that. I pointed to Biblical stories about music being valuable, anyway. I then felt like I had a real obligation to let him know that being gay is okay, too, if that's who he is. It was something he'd never heard before from a preacher, but I knew enough of the arguments to show him some things he'd never considered or heard, and let him think on that. I also planted the seed with him that any church that tells him to hate himself, or lets other people hate, is no valid church.

Maybe a little subversive for my cover story, and probably not something I'd say on stage, but I felt it needed saying.

The next day, I had an invitation from Jack's mother to join the family for supper Wednesday night. So, I accepted. It turns out, Jack's mother was divorced, and the two lived alone in their mobile home. Dinner was nice enough, and as we cleaned up, Jack disappeared. Suddenly, everything kind of changed in the house. Anne turned off several lights in the kitchen and around the house, and then led me into the living room.

"Jack told me what you said," she said. "And I want to thank you." She tipped her head. "I also think that, maybe, you aren't exactly the by-the-Book kind of guy you pretend to me, are you?"

I was a little concerned about this at first. If she was about to ruin my gig, I guess she had the right. But then I noticed the look in her eyes. She wasn't threatening me in any way. She was agreeing with me.

"I guess not," I replied.

"I do a lot to keep up our appearances, because this is not an easy place to live for some of us," she said. "But I think we understand each other, and we could probably do a bit to help each other out right now."

I tipped my head to ask what she meant while she nudged me onto the sofa. "I'll be right back," she said. "You just be comfortable."

So, she walked down the hall while I waited. It was just a couple of minutes later when she returned, her hair down and her conservative dress replaced with a garter belt, side-tie panty, and black lace bustier. She smiled as she saw the reaction on my face. "Wow," I felt escape from my lips.

"No one has seen me in this since Jack's daddy left, about five years ago," she said. She placed a finger to her cheek. "Not that I ain't been with a man, you understand, but this outfit... I guess I'd been saving it."

"I'm flattered," I said, taking in her magnificent body.

"You really made Jack feel special, and I want to do the same for you," she said, lowering herself to the floor in front of me and running her hands over my chest. "Jack's spending the night with a friend, so we're alone. He left out the back door, so the neighbors mostly won't notice. As long as we get you on your way in a reasonable time, I think we can keep both of our reputations intact, don't you?"

As she said this, she ran her right hand down my chest and to my belt buckle. She undid it, and then brought her hands together to unbutton my slacks. I nodded my agreement, not entirely able to put words together right then.

She grinned as she eased my pants down, and I lifted my hips to help with the cause. She pushed them onto the floor and took off my shoes, then slid up onto the couch beside me. Her hands wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me in closer. My hands wrapped around her waist as we pulled nearer. The moment our lips met, though, we both began exploring each other. My left hand slid up her back and pulled her closer while my right slid over her ass, then around her hip to the side-tie that held her small black panty in place. I pulled that bow free, and slipped the tiny piece of fabric away.

Her hands slid down my back then around to my front, and her left pulled my erection through the fly of my boxers. She pulled herself away to pant in my ear, "Don't worry. I have protection," as she slid her left hand down the length of my shaft. I moaned loudly, feeling the strain of it.

I definitely did not live a celebate life, but still it had been a couple of weeks since I'd been laid, and I was feeling it right then. Having a gorgeous and eager woman touching me was making it difficult not to simply throw her on the floor and take her, but I had to pace myself. Still, I reached my hand between her legs and stroked her until I felt that she was getting wet and her clitoris was begging for attention. I slipped my index finger inside her, then withdrew it a little to caress some of her lubrication onto her clit. I then worked my finger back into her, making circles around her labia as I did. She threw her head back, moaning with pleasure. I made myself delay as I slipped my finger back into her, then hooked it to find her G-spot just inside. As her breath caught, I slid my thumb up onto her clit and began to move my hand in slow, steady circles, gently stroking with both fingers.

"Oh, God!" she called out as I ignored the irony. She sucked in a hissing breath, her eyes widening. Then, her hips began to grind against my hand. My own movement became faster and stronger as we built up. After a few minutes, then, she cried out and rocked hard against my hand. I felt her body tighten, shake, and release as she hit her orgasm. Then, I slid to the floor and draped both of her legs over my shoulders. I moved my thumb off of her clitoris and put my tongue to work, keeping the finger inside her body.

She came again quickly, it seemed like barely a minute later. I let her body calm, then went back to licking and stroking her. Again, she built up to her climax, and she nearly screamed with this one. As I continued stroking, she peaked three or four times without ever quite coming down, and only then did her body really begin to relax. I slid her body to the carpeted floor beside me, and ran my hands along her thighs.

"I feel like it's been a while, " I teased. She smirked.

"Maybe a bit," she said. "Holy shit, I needed that so much!" She pressed her knee against my groin, and I moaned loudly in eagerness and pleasure. "I think it might be about time to help you out." She slid my boxers down, and then unbuttoned my shirt and pressed it from my shoulders. She trailed kisses up and down my legs and chest as she did, but carefully avoided my erect penis, even as it demanded attention.

She reached into the drawer of a side table and grabbed something, then leaned back to me and closed her mouth over my erection. She slowly drew her mouth back, then ran her tongue in a circle over the head. After three or four such circles, she took me deep again. Her mouth ran up and down on me several times, and I felt like I was about to explode when she stopped. She rolled away, then opened up the package containing the condom she'd procured.

She rolled it onto me smoothly, then ran her hands up my chest. She slipped the shoulder straps of her bustier away, letting the outfit bunch around her belly and show her breasts as she slid onto me. I watched her move as she straddled my hips and eased me inside her, and I ran my hands onto her thighs. She moved them up to her breasts as she slid forward, bringing me fully into her. With that, she began to move up and down, and I thrust into her. Our breathing became louder, and all words were lost in the grunts and moans of our exertion.

She must have been well-warmed-up, because I still felt her body climax a moment before mine did. I rolled her onto the floor beside me, and slipped off the condom carefully. I dropped it into the trash can and looked at her gorgeous, mostly-naked body lying there. I felt myself already hardening again, and she rolled onto her back, moving her legs apart just enough to let me know that she was still in the game. She grabbed another condom from the floor beside her and tossed it to me. I rolled it on as I knelt over her leg, then began kissing her body, running up her outer thigh, her hip, and her belly. As I reached her chest and began running my tongue over her breasts and nipples, I was definitely fully hard again. We moved our bodies together, sliding along each other until she opened her legs wider, and I slid back inside her. She rolled her hips against mine as I thrust inside her, lifting to try to hit her most-sensitive areas as I did. With my right hand, I reached down and stroked her clitoris as I neared my own orgasm again.

I came first, but she followed close behind, this time. I stayed inside as long as I could, thrusting until I wasn't hard enough to remain in her, and I withdrew, then dispensed with the rubber. I lay on the floor beside her, holding her calmly, now.

"That was fantastic," she whispered against my chest. "I might be closer to believing in God right now than I've been since Jack's dad left," she smiled. "You are one hell of a preacher, I guess."

A glance at the clock told us that it was 9:30, and it would be best for me to go before the neighbors began to think I'd been there too long. So, we said our farewells on the floor, and I pulled my clothes back on and left.

Diarist
Diarist
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AnonymousAnonymousabout 1 year ago

I have made myself available to our minister for several years. We know each other intimately and I thrill at the thought that I am providing him a service. He knows that my pussy is ready any time he needs me.

AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

This story is far closer to reality than most people think. The church is a very sexual place!

AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

I knew of a married couple where the husband had been a minister at one time, but was now in secular work. They invited a minister to spend the night at their home, out of hospitality. The next morning after the husband went to work, the wife went into the bedroom of their guest minister, showed him her pussy and sucked him off.

AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

I understand that there are some women who discreetly make themselves readily available to ministers/pastors who travel or serve as special guest speakers on various occasions. They do so freely and have great pleasure in it. It is considered a part of hospitality or a gratuity.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 2 years ago

Great story! Amy B. I have preached commando, but I can't imagine trying to deal with orgasms in the pulpit! Steve B.

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