The Preacher's Wife

She pulled away from me. "Mr. Verbeek, this has got to STOP!"

"I'm just showing you what a rat your husband is," I replied, throwing my hands up in the air as if I was fully justified and at a loss as to why she'd be offended.

"It's just not -- PROPER!" she said, tears beginning to fill her eyes.

Another twinge of guilt pricked my conscience, but the devil on my left shoulder overwhelmed the angel on my right.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Kershaw, but there's a lot more that your husband did to my wife. I think the deacons need to know exactly what their fearless leader has been up to...."

"No, Tom -- PLEASE! Just let me work it out with him..." The tears continued to flow.

"You've had four days since I talked to you, and you've done NOTHING about it. Why should I give you more time?"

"I just -- hadn't realized the SERIOUSNESS of the situation. Please, give me a few more days. I PROMISE I'll do whatever I can to make it right."

I looked her over lasciviously from head to toe. I deliberately rested my eyes on her breasts and pelvic region for several moments each. I hoped she would notice through her tears. I wanted her to know what I had in mind. "That's a promise?" I asked with a deliberate grin and raised eyebrow.

She hesitated in giving a response, trying to dry her tears. "Within reason," she finally answered.

I smiled my most charming smile. "Great!" I said cheerfully, "the deacons meet again on Wednesday night. How about you meet with me on Tuesday night to give me an update? I'm sure Brother Larry will be on visitation on Tuesday night, so you can just stop by my house while he's gone."

"I -- I couldn't come ALONE to your house. People might see me -- and -- and get the WRONG idea!"

"Tell you what," I replied, trying to sound as if I was taking it easy on her, "I'll arrange to have a hotel room at the Super 8 across town. That way you won't have to worry about being seen at my house. You just meet me in the lobby there, and we'll go speak in private. Nobody has to know..."

"Oh, THANK YOU, Mr. Verbeek. That's mighty kind of you." She managed a smile behind her dried-up tears. As book smart as I knew she was, her naivete astounded me. She may as well have just fallen off the turnip truck.

* * * * *

I took off work early on Tuesday to set my plan into motion. I rigged a stationary video camera on a tripod inside the closet, and pointed it toward the bed. The view captured most of the hotel room. With two hours worth of recording time available on the disc, I set the camcorder running as I left the room for our 5:30 appointment.

Sarah Kershaw was fidgeting behind a tall plastic plant as I sauntered into the lobby. She was again in a dress, which was again too high in the neck and too low in the hem.

She looked up as I approached. Somewhat flustered, she said, "I really shouldn't be here. Larry would be mortified if he knew."

"Haven't you spoken with him?"

Her hesitation told me everything I needed to know. "I... I just couldn't bring myself to do it. He's the -- the head of the household. And he's always provided for me. For me to -- to ACCUSE him would seem so... UNGRATEFUL."

I was stunned. What kind of mind control had Larry been using? If he truly HAD been doing what I'd said, gratitude should be the LAST thing on Sarah's mind. But if she truly trusted him, she should have told me to take a flying leap and told her husband what I was up to. No, she was one confused lady. My guilt pangs were on the rise.

But I had a role to play, and retribution to render. "Let's go talk in private," I suggested. She followed me out of the lobby and up to my second floor room. I closed the door and latched it.

"Mr. Verbeek, there's no need to latch it."

"I just thought you'd want some privacy..."

"But I'd like to be able to leave without impediment if I wish," she countered.

"Okay, fine," I said, unlatching the lock, "but I don't think you'll be leaving any time soon. We have a lot to work out."

"I'm prepared to offer you money, Tom," she said, a fearful expression on her face. "We don't have much financially, but I can scrape together a few hundred dollars."

A deliberate smirk spread across my face. "And you think a few hundred dollars will make amends for what your husband did to my wife and me?"

"I -- um -- I don't know, Tom. I feel just AWFUL about it. I wish I had MORE..."

"Oh, but you DO!" I retorted.

"No, seriously, Tom -- Larry doesn't make much more than we need just to get by. And I've been working part-time at the library, but I don't make much at all."

"I wasn't talking about money," I replied firmly, gazing at her breasts.

Her eyes followed mine. "You -- you can't be SERIOUS!" she responded vehemently.

"Think about it, Sarah. Your husband has, by his words and actions, robbed me of the comfort of my wife. And right now I need some -- comfort. 'Turnabout's fair play' and all that," I said, trying to sound like the injured one.

"But -- but -- I've NEVER been unfaithful to my husband!" she cried out, tears once again beginning to stream down her cheeks.

"That makes ONE of you who's faithful," I replied coldly. I nearly had myself convinced that Larry was a skirt chaser. Maybe he was, for all I knew. But I knew for sure that he was something far worse -- a heartless prick who judged and destroyed others.

Nonetheless, my conscience was rearing its not-so-ugly head as I thought more clearly about what I was doing to Sarah. I was breaking her trust for her husband, pushing her toward an outcome that she could never have imagined from her innocent view of the world.

I reached out and wiped the tear from her cheek with my thumb. I waited, watching her shoulders heave gently and her freckled nose contort with sniffles. She was a good woman, and I was a heel.

But I was a heel with a libido. She was truly a very pretty woman, and with a little luck, I would basically have her at my mercy. I found myself thinking less of revenge and more of satisfaction of another sort. Sarah was infinitely more pleasant to think about than Larry.

I put my finger under her chin and tilted her face up toward mine. I held her gaze for several seconds. Her crystal green eyes were pools of confusion and doubt. "Looks like YOU could use some comfort, too," I said sincerely. I wrapped my arms around her in a gentle embrace.

She cried into my shoulder for a minute or so, then pushed back to capture my gaze once again. "What do you want in exchange for not going to the deacons?" she asked, a note of resignation in her voice.

"Only one thing, and then you'll never hear another word about it again from me..."

"Just one thing?" she echoed.

"But it's pretty -- intimate," I cautioned.

"I will NOT have sex with you, Mr. Verbeek!" Sarah insisted.

"That's not exactly what I was going to suggest. Bill Clinton wouldn't refer to what I have in mind as 'sex'. He did NOT have sex with that woman -- Monica Lewinsky," I declared solemnly.

"I -- I'm not putting your -- your THING in my mouth," she exclaimed.

"That's also not what I had in mind."

"It's not?"

"No. Remember, I said YOU could use some comfort, too..."

She stared blankly for a moment. Then, as the realization as to my meaning sunk in, her green eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. She looked down at her own pelvic region. "You mean -- you want to -- you're asking to provide -- ORAL stimulation to ME?"

I smiled at her and nodded.

"But -- but -- I've -- I've -- I've NEVER done something like that, Mr. Verbeek. Larry says that it's -- SINFUL!" she cried out.

It was just as I had suspected. Brother Larry, selfish prick that he was, had never gone down on his wife. He had even convinced her that it was morally wrong, even for husband and wife.

"Tell me where the Bible says anything about that," I retorted.

After an uncomfortable silence, I challenged her with what I knew to be true. "You can't do it. It's not there," I said.

Her continuing silence validated my assertion.

"I think your husband's been robbing you of a healthy marriage," I ventured further, "just like he robbed me of mine. Now, shall I go to the deacons tomorrow night?"

"But -- I'd -- I'd be so -- so EMBARRASSED to let you do what you're suggesting," she countered.

"Your husband will be MORE embarrassed when his sins are uncovered," I taunted accusingly.

"Do you PROMISE that's all there will be to it? It ends TONIGHT, and you won't make me do ANYTHING more than you've suggested?" she pleaded.

"Scout's honor," I said, "anything further will strictly be at YOUR bidding. And I think the embarrassment will be fleeting."

"You'll keep your clothes on?" she asked.

"For as long as you want me to..."

She flushed in embarrassment, then looked down at the floor. "I -- I can't believe I'm actually considering this," she muttered softly.

"I promise you that you'll like it," I said simply.

I saw a flash -- a spark -- light a dormant fire in her eyes.

"Let me get ready in the bathroom," she said quietly.

My plan was working to perfection. Even if she simply let me go down on her, the video evidence would be sufficient to get her husband fired. If she liked it as much as I suspected she would, her husband was in even deeper shit.

I waited eagerly, sitting on the edge of the bed. I heard water running in the sink. "You go girl," I thought distractedly, "get yourself ready for me."

The bathroom door creaked as it opened. I turned to watch Sarah enter the bedroom. I was sorely disappointed. She still wore the same long dress that she'd had on since she arrived.

"Change your mind?" I asked, visibly disappointed.

She didn't speak a single word. She simply held up a pair of white cotton panties for me to see.

I was pleased at her silent message. She was telling me that she was giving in. She simply didn't want me to see her for any longer than was necessary.

I smiled benevolently and patted the spot on the bed beside me. She sat down, moving like an automaton, in response to my silent invitation.

I leaned toward her and put my arm around her shoulder. She flinched, obviously fearful.

"I won't hurt you, Sarah," I assured her, "why don't you lie down and close your eyes? Imagine it's all just a dream."

I fluffed the pillows and propped them against the headboard. She rotated sideways and lifted her legs up onto the bed, still fully clothed -- save for a pair of missing panties. She leaned her head back against the pillows, eyes wide open.

"That's it -- relax," I coaxed. Her green eyes shone like a cat's. Her auburn hair spilled over her shoulders, cascading across the pillows. I found myself anxious to get started.

"I need to know something, Tom. I need you to be truthful with me," she requested.

"Yes?"

"I need to know that you won't tell my husband about this. I know you said that you won't go to the deacons, but I need to know that our secret stays between the two of us."

Talk about feeling like a cad -- I'd never lied to a woman in the way that I did at that moment. "You can trust me," I said with deliberate sincerity. I glanced toward the darkness of the closet and saw the faint red blink of the video camera as it recorded.

"Then let's get this over with," she sighed.

I knew better than to berate her for her attitude. Something better than Brother Larry's relational tactics needed to be employed. I decided that my cunnilingual skills should be sufficient to the task.

I removed my shoes and climbed onto the bed. I removed her shoes as well. I then began massaging her feet and toes. Despite herself, she let out a relaxed murmur. I moved further toward my goal.

As I rubbed her ankles, I trailed kisses up the front of her calves. She initially stiffened at the sensation of my lips, but then relaxed as I began rubbing her taut calf muscles.

I pushed the hem of her dress up a few inches and gently kissed her knees. My massage moved from the back of her calves to the lower part of her thighs. My tongue darted out, licking circles around her kneecaps. She breathed a muted sigh.

I positioned myself between Sarah's feet and pushed the hem of her dress further up. My massaging fingers and nibbling lips worked their way up to mid-thigh.

I paused mid-way between her knees and her crotch. "Sarah, I'm going to need you to move your knees further apart," I instructed. She hesitated, then spread her legs far enough for me fit my shoulders in between.

The hem of her dress was now tantalizingly close to her hidden treasures. I massaged further up the back of her thighs until I felt the soft flesh of her ass cheeks. My kisses moved along her upper thighs, then more centrally toward her inner thighs.

"Are -- are you SURE about this?" she asked unsteadily. Her breathing was noticeably more labored.

"It is a noble deed, indeed -- one that expresses unselfishness like no other." I left it to her to ponder what that said about her husband.

My kisses along her inner thigh crept upward. It was the moment I had been waiting for. Her anticipation was palpable as well. "Sarah," I said, "I want you to move your dress out of the way so I can pleasure you."

She cleared her throat as if beginning to say something. Then, without a word, she pulled the lower part of her dress up to her waist.

Just as I had thought, her auburn hair color was natural. Her pubic mound was adorned with hair of an identical color, though its texture was dramatically different. It was plentiful but well-groomed.

Below her mound of Venus, the pink puffy lips of her vagina were beautiful to behold. I saw no indication of lubrication, but I knew I could take care of that.

Her scent was mostly soapy. I was pretty sure that the running water I'd heard was from her efforts to wash up and minimize embarrassment. Based on her husband's judgments, she surely thought of this act as "unclean."

I gently continued to kiss along her inner thigh until I reached the juncture of her legs. At first, I simply kissed her labia and pubic mound. Soon, however, I flicked my tongue out and licked slowly along the line of her slit.

I heard her breath catch in her throat. Her hips twitched involuntarily. I brought my hands around to cup her ass from behind, then slid my tongue slowly into her warm depths.

"Oh, MY!" she exclaimed.

I smiled inwardly. "You ain't seen nothin' yet, baby," I thought silently.

I began thrusting with my tongue. After a minute or two of tongue-fucking her, I brought my right hand back to the front. It had been cupping her soft, smooth derriere. Continuing to massage her ass with my left hand, I used my right thumb and forefinger to stroke and tease her clitoris.

Her hips jerked upward. "Oh, Mr. Verbeek! How are you DOING that?" she asked.

That moment was the first time it crossed my mind that Sarah may have never had an orgasm in her life. It immediately became my mission to make sure that it was an experience she would never forget.

I sat up briefly. "Sarah," I said, "I want you to try to just let go. I'm going to make you feel good -- VERY good. Don't try to hold back -- just let yourself go. There's no need to be embarrassed about your reaction."

"But -- I never... I mean..."

"I know," I said empathetically.

I leaned in again, my mouth zeroing in on her clit. I teased it to erection with my tongue, then began suckling it between my lips. With my saliva and her now-building juices, lubrication was no longer a problem. I moved my middle finger to her warm and inviting slit.

I ran it up and down the length of her inner labia, then slowly poked it into her tunnel. My tongue and lips continued their magic on her clit. Her hips were now gently thrusting against my face.

I let go of her ass with my left hand and reached up to clasp her hand. She curled her fingers around mine.

I slid a second finger into her fiery furnace. My finger-fucking matched the rhythm of her hip thrusts.

Her clit had become engorged. I could feel her pussy walls slowly throbbing around my fingers. I slid a third digit into her slippery tunnel, still matching the rhythm of her thrusts.

"Tom... Tom... I feel all -- TINGLY," she cried, her voice more shrill than I'd ever heard it.

"Mmm-hmmmh," I encouraged, not wanting to relieve the tension on her clitoral nub in order to answer with words.

I moved to her side, my face still planted between her legs, to get a better angle. I suckled her clit for all I was worth. I was fascinated to see the way her vaginal lips clamped around my fingers and stretched outward each time my fingers retreated for a new thrust.

Her vaginal walls began throbbing more rapidly. "Let go, Sarah," I managed to say between licks of her clit.

"Okay," she said huskily.

The throbs of her pussy turned to clenches. My fingers felt like they were being squeezed in a vise. Her thrusting became frenzied, as did mine -- her with her hips, me with my fingers, lips and tongue.

"EEEEEEAIEEEEEEEEEE!" she shrieked, her climax reaching a crescendo. "MMMM-OOOOOOOOH!"

I continued stroking, licking, sucking, thrusting for two or three more minutes. I felt her body spasming in wave after wave. I wanted to keep stimulating her until there were no more waves breaking on the shore.

When she finally began to recover, I sat up beside her, my fingers still playing with her pussy. She opened her eyes -- their green luminescence fixed on me.

"I can't believe that Tricia walked away from -- from THIS!" Sarah said, almost admiringly.

Her mention of Tricia struck a nerve. I had indeed somehow failed her. I dropped my head in shame.

Sarah's empathetic motor kicked into high gear. "I'm sorry," she said soothingly, "I didn't mean to touch a sore spot." She leaned toward me and gave me a hug.

I smiled through my pain. She was indeed a sweet woman. I kissed her cheek -- a chaste kiss of thanks.

She surprised me by turning toward my kiss. Her lips grazed mine. At the same moment, I felt her vaginal walls constrict once again around my fingers.

"Um -- Sarah," I said, "you might not want to do that. It might make it difficult for me to..."

"To what?" she replied, then pressed her lips against mine.

I leaned away from her. "To -- to keep my word. That it ends here."

She smiled a playful smile, her green eyes blazing, her freckled nose then scrunching in a gesture of unexpected disdain. "You'd better NOT!" she rejoined. With that, she grasped the hem of her dress and pulled it all the way over her head. In a matter of seconds, her bra was unstrapped and thrust on the floor. She was naked beside me.

I was astounded but joyful. I cupped her breasts and leaned in for a deeper kiss. Her tongue demanded entry to my mouth. I gladly acceded.

I wanted to feel her body against mine, but I was fully clothed except for my shoes. "Let me get out of these," I suggested. She helped me get quickly undressed.

"My -- you're so BIG!" she marveled when she saw my erect penis. I consider myself average or just a little bigger. It made me wonder about Brother Larry.

"And you -- you're GORGEOUS!" I told her sincerely.

We slowly explored each other's bodies. She seemed to have particularly sensitive breasts. As I suckled her nipples, she clung desperately to me. She began moaning, so I fingered her pussy again and brought her to another writhing orgasm.

I wondered how in the hell Larry had managed to squash this wonderful creature's sexuality for so long. He apparently wouldn't even give her the pleasure of sucking her tits. Surely she would have cum sometime in her married life if he'd even given her the slightest attention.

I decided to stop thinking about Larry and focus on Sarah. And right now, I wanted to fuck her brains out.

"Sarah -- were you planning on having me -- inside you?" I asked humbly.