Chapter 3
It took me several days to sift it all out in my mind. Finally, though, I arrived at an unmistakable conclusion.
I had been seduced!
Not by the ex-convict attendant in the adult book store. Nor even by some long-repressed strain of lust lurking in my unconscious. But I'd been a victim nonetheless. An unwitting victim, I constantly reassured myself.
I hadn't really wanted to have sex with a total stranger. Not at all, I was increasingly certain. Some larger force had made me do it, so powerful in its strength that it was as potentially lethal in its own way as germ warfare.
Pornography! It was the culprit.
Like the Prince of Darkness, pornography had stepped out of the shadows, seized me, and as much as literally raped me. A gang of dope-crazed motorcycle thugs couldn't have done a more complete and brutal job.
Despite the horror of having fucked a man other than my husband, I became convinced I was on the right track. Obviously the battle against obscenity was one that had to be fought and won.
If this filth could do what it did to a morally upright person such as myself, then think of the damage exposure to it could cause those who were far more impressionable than I.
This smut had to be wiped out ... and now! There was no time to waste if we were going to save our young people!
I decided I would go see my minister to enlist his aid in the fight. Pornography was a deadly enough foe so that I needed every ounce of strength I could manage on my side.
The Reverend Worthington was always happy to see me because I was so active in church affairs, and our family was always a big contributor to the building fund.
"Well, well, Mrs. Edwards," he smiled. "What brings you here today? Is it already time again for the annual charity show?"
"No," I replied, as grim as he was genial, "that's not until August."
"Then what can I do for you?"
"Something about this," I snapped, anxious to get to the point. Hesitating not a second I reached into my purse and slapped a magazine on the desk between us.
The center pages opened because of the impact. The smile abruptly faded from Rev. Worthington's face and his eyes bulged from his head as he looked straight down at a two-page spread of a couple having anal sex.
When I'd first thought of it, I'd known showing Rev. Worthington the magazine was an extreme measure. But then I decided there was no virtue in beating around the bush. There'd be no further explanation needed of the fight we had to wage after the pastor got a first-hand look at the infection being spread throughout our community.
"W ... where did you get this?" he finally recovered his wits enough to gasp.
"At the corner newsstand," I replied without blinking. "It was right next to the romances."
I wasn't exaggerating for shock purposes. There was no need to. The sordid truth was far more shocking than anything I could dream up.
After the incident in the adult book store, I'd done some more research and discovered that smutty magazines and books were being peddled openly all over the community. Anyone could buy such material in practically any drugstore, supermarket, liquor store, or newsstand. We'd been wallowing in filth and hadn't even known it.
"Don't you see," I did all the talking while the reverend muttered incoherently, "this garbage available to the most impressionable members of society. I'm talking about children ... mental defectives ... minority groups ... senior citizens. I've come to plead with you to use the church to help put a stop to it."
He looked up at me with a blank stare. Then, like a zombie, he picked up the magazine and stared at it with round, unblinking eyes. The several drops of sweat that abruptly popped out on his forehead were the only clue as to what was going on in his mind.
"Well, what do you think, Rev. Worthington?" I insisted.
"Incredible," he whispered under his breath. "Absolutely incredible. I don't think I really believe this...."
"You'd better," I firmly interjected. "This material is available to anyone with enough money to buy it."
"Excuse me," he said in a trembling voice. "You'll have to excuse me."
He put the magazine down and buried his perspiring face in his hands.
"Is there anything I can do?" I asked, nervous for the first time in the interchange.
"No, that's all right," he answered. "I'll get myself a cup of tea ... maybe that will settle my nerves. Would you like one, too?"
I said I would and waited for him to return. Even before he re-entered the room I heard him coming because the tea service was rattling all over the tray he was carrying. By the time he came into view he looked like he was auditioning a juggling act.
"Say," I said, getting up from my chair, "maybe you'd better let me handle that."
I walked over to him and tried to relieve him of the tray. However, he was shaking so much that he fumbled the exchange. Suddenly I was drenched with hot tea.
"Christ, I'm sorry!" he blurted. Then, as if struck from above, he turned bright red.
"That's all right, Reverend," I consoled him, realizing how mortified he must feel to have taken the Lord's name in vain.
"Thank you for understanding, Mrs. Edwards," he breathed a deep sigh of relief. "There are many others in the congregation who would not be so compassionate."
As he said this, our eyes met. I felt as though I were looking straight into his soul and that we had achieved a deep communion.
"Here ... here...." he broke the lock of our gaze with nervous suddenness. "Let me help you clean yourself off."
Before I could wave him away, he was hunched over my midriff and brushing his hand down the front of my skirt. He was so tense I could feel his stiff fingers pushing through the fabric to pinch my skin.
Most of the tea had landed right on what would have been my lap had I been sitting down. That was where Rev. Worthington concentrated most of his feverish rubbing. Coincidentally, it was right at the point of my body where my thighs intersected to form the triangular mound of my pubis.
He was unknowingly feeling me up. And, although I didn't want to acknowledge it, my pussy was rapidly becoming soaking wet.
And not with tea.
"Please ... please, Rev. Worthington, I don't think you should be doing this," I stammered self-consciously.
"But I was the one who spilled the mess all over your dress," he protested earnestly. "I don't want your clothing ruined on my account."
"I'm afraid it's soaked all the way through," I told him. "I can feel it against my skin."
"Really?"
For some reason I added, "Yes, I can feel it against my thighs."
"In the crotch of your panties?" he asked so quickly that I failed to notice how bizarre a question it was.
"Yes," I admitted, "they're dripping."
"Let me see," he said, slipping his hand beneath my hem before I could respond.
Suddenly I felt his probing fingers forcing their way between the softness of my thighs. They lightly gripped my cunt, and then rubbed it around in the pressing palm of his hand.
"See," I bleated, anxious not to be misunderstood, "I told you it was wet."
"It certainly is," he answered. "You're soaking."
He twisted his hand against my throbbing cunt. I tried to control myself, but I couldn't help but shudder and moan.
"Am I touching you somewhere I shouldn't?" he asked coyly.
"No, no," I let it all hang out. "Please keep rubbing ... harder ... harder."
That was the signal for him to slip his hand inside my panties and began fingering my cunt in the flesh. My pussy lips seemed to leap out to meet his touch, lapping against his probing index finger.
By now neither of us needed to kid ourselves about any tea dripping from my twat. The sticky wetness oozing from between my legs could only be one thing-raw pussy juice.
He knew it ... I knew it. That's why he was rubbing my cunt ... That's why I was writhing with delight.
"Put your fingers inside," I begged him. "Finger-fuck me."
A pair of stiff digits breached my rubbery labia and settled in the tight canal of my pussy. When they began moving back and forth the ecstasy was blinding.
"Find my clitoris," I gasped urgently. "Rub it with your thumb."
As if I had to tell him. He couldn't have missed it if he'd tried. The turgid spike of flesh was protruding almost an inch from the folds at the top of my snatch.
"Mmmmmmm, that's it," I crooned as the fatness of his thumb smothered my joy-button. "My pussy is creaming all over again."
Gradually the strong feeling emanating from between my legs became overpowering. Eventually I could no longer stand under the exquisite strain, dropping to my knees while I kept the reverend's hand imprisoned at the crux of my thighs.
My eyes had been closed as I rode the peak of an orgasmic crescendo. When it temporarily abated before the surge of the next spasm, my lids fluttered open and I found myself staring straight at Rev. Worthington's crotch. His fly was taut with an enormous bulge.
He glanced down and saw what I was looking at.
"It's hard, Mrs. Edwards," he breathlessly informed me, as if I needed to be told. "I'm afraid you've made my penis as hard as a rock."
"Call it a cock!" I blurted impulsively. "It's more exciting when you call it a cock ... or a prick ... or a hard-on."
The obscenities rolled off my tongue like they were the only language I spoke. I was so horny I was totally unaware of how much against my character I was going.
"My cock is hard," he corrected himself. "I have a hard-on, Mrs. Edwards."
"Yes ... Yes?" I panted expectantly.
"And I want to fuck you with it. Right on my desk. I want you to get up there, pull down your panties, and spread your legs so I can stick my cock in your cunt and fuck the living Jesus out of you."
I was on my feet and hoisting myself onto the desk in an instant. Pushing the books and paper out of the way, I planted my back and ass on the green blotter and yanked my dress to my waist. My sopping panties were off immediately and I was prying my legs as far apart as they would go.
The smell of my randy cunt suddenly dominated the room as I thrust my exposed crotch into the open. Looking down my body to the vortex of my spread limbs, I could see my pussy flexing like a hairy fist.
"Please," I begged, "hurry up and get out your cock. I can't wait a second longer."
His hands dropped to his pants and had his fly open immediately. As his trousers and shorts dropped to the floor and he stepped out of them, nude from the waist down, his unsheathed hard-on twanged like an over-sized tuning fork.
"Your cock is enormous!" I gasped. "It's even bigger than it looked in your pants."
"Eleven inches," he said proudly. "It'll stuff your tight cunt until you can't take any more."
"Try me," I gushed, expanding and contracting my pussy muscles so my labia sucked provocatively at him.
Licking his lips, he went around to the far end of the desk and crawled up onto the top. Balancing himself on his knees, he inched into the enclosure of my splayed legs and aimed his prick straight at my hungry cunt.
Then, lurching forward, he stabbed cleanly into my cunt on the first attempt. The thick meat of his prick barrelled up my fuck-hole like a runaway locomotive.
When something spasmed deep within me, I realized hp had penetrated all the way to my womb. My uterus was convulsing like an interior cunt.
Yet, despite the magnitude of his insertion, he still had several inches of cock to spare. That's how big his beautiful hard-on was.
"All the way," I urged him. "Fuck me to the hilt like you promised, Rev. Worthington."
"You asked for it, Mrs. Edwards," he grunted, letting loose with all he had.
His final shove took my breath away with the same effect as a punch to the solar plexus. His balls searing against the bottom of my groin felt like a pair of hot coals.
Realizing I had him inside of me as far as he could go, I automatically lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist in an unyielding lock of passion. Then, pulling him toward me, I forced his prick to twist within me like a high-speed drill. I felt like he was gouging a hole in me that would never close.
While I moaned with ecstasy, the reverend lowered his face to mine and covered my mouth with his lips. His tongue shot down my throat just as completely as his cock already had in my pussy. The hot soul-kiss made it seem like I was being fucked at both ends.
The only thing left to make the situation heaven on earth was for him to come. Recognizing that God helps those who help themselves, I set every sinew and muscle in my cunt to work in an attempt to wring his prick like a washrag.
It worked, of course. Even eleven inches of muscle-bound gristle couldn't resist the pressure of my ultra-tight pussy. My constricting twat would have been able to draw blood from a turnip. Pumping jizz from a hard-on that was on the verge of coming in the first place was child's play.
Probably all my squeezing effort just advanced his ejaculation a few seconds. But it was worth it since I would have probably gone crazy had his explosion been delayed even that short a time.
Because I wanted it. Sweet Jesus, how I wanted it. My cunt was thirsty for his cream.
Had to have it! Couldn't wait!
"Ooooooh, my God!" I squealed as his huge prick erupted right on schedule inside my twat. "It feels like you've got a fire-hose up there instead of your cock!"
"Maybe I do," he giggled, and then seemed to re-double his squirting. I couldn't imagine where he was getting it all.
Blast after blast of jism filled my fuck-hole until the canal could hold no more. As inevitably as death and taxes the overflow spilled from between my legs. Soon both Rev. Worthington and I were drenched with his cum.
There was so much spunk splashing around that I didn't realize he had stopped coming until he'd pulled his cock out of my pussy. As I peered at it through the crux of my spread legs I saw to my glee that it was still as hard as ever.
He could fuck me again immediately if I wanted it.
But there was no sense in concentrating all of the action in my cunt. Not when there were holes in my body begging to be screwed-most particularly my asshole. My hot, throbbing asshole. The tight orifice normally reserved for the one-day ferrying of shit craved a fuck more than my lungs craved oxygen.
"Do it to me in the ass!" I urgently hissed. "Fuck me in the ass, preacher!"
To accentuate my desire, I reached down under my thighs, gripped the spongy meat of my buns, and pried my butt apart. My asshole winked at him like the CBS eye.
"Are you sure you can stand it, Mrs. Edwards?" he asked considerately.
"What are you talking about?" I scoffed. "What more could I do to show how much I want your cock fucking my ass?"
"You've just never seemed the type in all the years I've known you," he said.
"Then maybe you didn't know me as well as you thought you did," I snapped impatiently. "I hate to tell you this, padre, but when a woman spreads her cheeks for you and offers her asshole, it isn't nice to ask questions."
"I guess so," he mused.
"Then stop gabbing ... and start fucking," I urged. "My asshole's spasming so much I'm about ready to shit all over your desk."
"Okay," he cast away the last of his doubts and grinned. Grabbing his looming prick, he began guiding it toward my pulsing chocolate orifice.
His prick was so big that there wasn't much of a gap to close between us. Just a few inches of descent found the head of his tool flattening sensationally against the ultra-sensitive ridges of my anus.
"Get it inside of me," I gasped. "Quickly! I want it so bad!"
Grimacing from the effort, he set to work trying to fit the over-sized cylinder of his cock into the narrow aperture of my ass. Every law of physics would have labeled the task impossible ... the law of uncontained lust made it a must.
"Do it to me ... do it to me!" I shamelessly begged. "Cram that monster in my ass!"
Then, the strangest thing happened. Upon the first inch of penetration I suddenly lost my nerve. No kidding, with the first feel of his cock within my asshole, I went as limp as a dishrag.
"I knew it," he declared to my utter astonishment.
"Knew what?" I muttered with galloping timidity.
"Despite your bravado, you've never actually taken a man's organ in your anus. You've a virgin rectum."
Oh, my God, he was right!
I'd been so carried away by sheer passion that I hadn't stopped to realize that my asshole was cherry. Not only had I never taken a cock up it, but I'd never even dreamed of it before I began my personal battle against pornography.
Lord, what further proof was needed as to the persuasiveness of smut? I'd been looking at so many examples of perversion since I'd begun my research that I'd started to take kinky sex acts for granted.
Once the truth had occurred to me I felt like I was in a trap. Although my conscience told me to turn back from the runaway lust I was sharing with Rev. Worthington, every nerve-ending in my body implored me to go through with the cornholing. If I didn't, it was a certainty I'd be a nervous wreck for weeks.
My body went hard again. Within me my asshole started working sexually again, spasming all the way to my colon.
"Fuck me," I laid it on the line. "Stop bullshitting and fuck me in the ass!"
He shrugged. "All right," he said, "you asked for it, Mrs. Edwards."
"I certainly did," I confirmed my choice. "Now split me in two, sky-pilot!"
The talking ceased. The only sound in the office was the skidding of the reverend's huge cock suddenly surging forcibly up my narrow shit-pit.
Sparks seemed to be shooting from my ass as he surged deeper and deeper. The effect of his massive hard-on forcing its way inside my slim anal orifice was the equivalent of metal striking against rock.
The pain was intense. I'd never had anything hurt so much....
Naturally I loved it.
"Mmmmmmm," I whimpered, "it hurts so good, so damn, fucking good."
He answered with an even deeper thrust toward my colon.
"Are you sure you can't make me bleed."
That was the signal for the good reverend to really turn it on. Whatever portion of his phallic bludgeon that remained outside my anus quickly surged inside. Then, buried within me to the absolute hilt, he began operating his monstrous hard-on like the jack-hammer it more closely resembled than an organ of the human body.
I could feel the impact in my molars as he battered away. Holding my breath in anticipation, I waited excitedly for my asshole to blessedly bleed.
I started to think of the prospective blood as a kind of anal cum. Perhaps I had no prick to shoot off liquid fireworks, but under the right circumstances my shit-pit could become a stew of bubbling ooze.
The tingling started. Multiple tingling. Massive tingling. One blood vessel bursting after another.
That sticky wetness can only be one thing. Blood! Hot, fresh blood leaking from my raw tissues and thoroughly lubricating the iron cock pumping like a piston within me.
My engine is greased. The fucking in my ass is perpetual motion.
Fucking ... fucking ... fucking....
Ass-fucking.
Jesus, I thought, where has this been all my life!
"Come in me!" I cried. "Come in my ass!"
A flood ensued. The banks of the Mississippi had been relocated to my rectum and were spilling over.
"Keep coming!" I implored. "Harder ... harder ... Drown me with your cum!"
The reverend did his best. I guess a man in his line of work stored up a lot of jizz in between breaking the Sixth Commandment.
Spunk poured out of my anus and spewed down my thighs. The green blotter on which we were lying was sure to be having the greatest test of its career.
There was cum all over the place. It was making the air humid with its steam.
The spunk that hadn't leaked out of my ass was swamping my colon. Turds were swimming in it.
"Oh, sweet Jesus, I love it!" I wailed, and then he finally stopped spurting. Laying back, I luxuriated in the damp after-glow of fucking.
I was not merely brimming with cum. I was also overflowing with confidence.
After this, Rev. Worthington had to cooperate with my plans.