7 comments/  34339 views/  18 favorites

The Pastor's Daughter

By: komrad1156



Chapter 1

"You know, I haven't seen you in a pair of pants in over five years, honey," I told my wife, Cathy, as we pulled up to a little retail store called Cato.

"That's because I don't own any pants," she replied. "Until recently, we both believed that a woman wearing pants is a violation of scripture and shows a lack of submission to one's husband and to God."

I sat there for a moment and wondered how we'd ever gotten so deeply into that mess. How had we allowed ourselves to give up our own sovereignty over our lives and hand it over to the pastor of a fundamentalist Baptist church? Answering that wasn't as simple as it seemed. Billions of people on earth believe in one God or another and all did so by faith. Yet very few of them ever stop to think that the people in other faiths hold mutually exclusive beliefs. That means that while all of them could be wrong, only one of them could be right. Even when some did take a moment to confront that thought, they glibly dismissed it with something as simplistic as being grateful for having found the one true faith. The others have all been deceived by the devil. How convenient is that? Oh, by the way, how exactly does the devil "talk" to us anyway? Don't ask, okay?

Those beheading people and setting them on fire are utterly sure of their faith and that they are doing God's will. So are those protesting at the funerals of service members and gay Americans. My best friend in high school was a Mormon. I clearly remember his dad telling me how he once believed the Mormon Church was true but he now KNEW it was true. How did he gain this certain knowledge? By faith, of course. He claimed God had revealed it to him but the truth is it's nothing more than believing something for so long one decides one "knows" it to be true. 

As a third example, there was a little old man in my very small hometown who lived in the jewelry and watch repair shop where he worked. He'd given up pretty much everything for what he called "the sake of Christ." He was 100% certain of his cause while he was equally sure that Islam and the Mormon Church were instruments of the devil and their adherents on their way to a devil's hell. His work was a front for his real purpose which was to witness to people to try and lead them to Christ. I was one of his converts at an age where I was too naïve to know better.

The story is too long to tell, but in a nutshell I came from a home where God wasn't discussed let alone believed in. This man made everything seem so simple. All men were sinners. I'd done wrong so I was a sinner, too. The wages of sin is death or eternal separation from God. But no worries! God loved us so much he sent Jesus to die for our sins so we could go to heaven. If I'd just believe that and ask God to save me, He would. So I did. I didn't think to ask where God and Jesus were or why they needed this man to their work. Why didn't they show up and talk to me? Good question!

For several more years, I believed there was a God who "heard and answered my prayers" in spite of the fact that my prayers seemed to be only randomly answered if they were even actually answered at all. Those doubts only grew larger as time went by. On those rare occasions when I asked others who allegedly knew more than I did about my such things, the answers I received were at best vague and unsatisfying. One was that God moves in mysterious ways. Gee, thanks! Another was that we couldn't understand everything in this life so we'd just have to trust God and wait until we get to heaven. Then we'd see all things clearly. Well, okay. Maybe so but... My favorite was, "How do you know He hasn't answered your prayers already in a way you didn't expect or that He won't do so in the future?" How could I argue with any of those without losing my faith? And MY faith, of course, was the TRUE faith. Losing it would be a fate worse than death.

So I pushed those doubts aside and continued to go to church, attend and even teach Bible study, and sing in the choir. Then one day I saw a young woman about my age at church who was visiting with a friend. I was hoping she was single and a Christian because she was stunningly beautiful. Much to my very pleasant surprise, I learned she was indeed unmarried when I spoke to her after she "walked the aisle" following the "invitation" (at the end of every sermon the pastor would invite those not saved to walk down the aisle and receive Christ as savior.) On that first visit, this beautiful young girl did just that. 

I couldn't wait to shake her hand and introduce myself after she was "saved." I stood in line waiting my turn to welcome her into the family of God. I also remember being completely smitten with her and her beautiful smile. But most of all, I remembered the way she was dressed because she wore what I most love seeing on a woman. She was wearing a very sexy looking, form-fitting beige sweater and matching skirt. As crazy as that sounds, nothing turns me on more than that. Not thick, baggy, multi-colored sweaters your grandmother would wear, but very sexy knit tops that show off a woman's best curves in all the right ways. I justified having such 'impure' thoughts as long as I didn't lust after them, but in her case, I found myself masturbating—another sin because it was "spilling seed"—every day thinking about her until I finally got up the nerve to ask her out. That happened the next Sunday right after church.

I was a little surprised when Cathy said "yes" because she was by far the prettiest girl in the church and one of the most attractive women my age I'd ever seen. She was 20 years old and worked as a bookkeeper in a doctor's office. I was 22 and getting ready to graduate from college. I'd decided to join the Marine Corps as an officer so I spent a lot of time running and getting physically ready for Officer Candidate's School in Quantico, Virginia. 

As far as girls were concerned, I didn't lack confidence. I'd never had any trouble getting dates and I'd had more than a few girls tell me I was very cute. But Cathy was so good looking I wondered if she would consider me to be in her league. She later told me she felt the same way about me and we both laughed at our own insecurities.

I'd been a Christian for a couple of years by this time while she was just learning the ropes. That worked in my favor because she was hungry for "the Word of God" and I was all too happy to teach her as we got acquainted. We dated for several months and I should point out here that those dates excluded both dances and movies. Both were "worldly" and therefore sinful. Of course, the same thing applied to smoking, drinking, cursing, or sex before marriage. But that's not all. 

As if that isn't restrictive enough, Independent Baptists (who are WAY to the right of Southern Baptists) have two other big rules. The first is that women may not wear pants. No, I'm not kidding. Dresses and skirts only! So Cathy willingly gave away all of her jeans and other pants and made the transition without complaint. The second is that women must submit to their husbands just as a man must submit to Christ. HE is the decision maker and his word is final. He can and should "seek his wife's counsel" but he has the final say in all things. Looking back, both of these seem bizarre to me now, but when you're inside the bubble, it all makes perfect sense—by faith. The faith you somehow "know" is true—by...well—faith, of course. 

We did plenty of kissing and even some light petting but abstained from sex until we were married. Neither of us were virgins but being relatively new to the whole church thing we were both very motivated to "do God's will." I proposed to her during Spring break my senior year and we were married the day I graduated from the University of Washington in Seattle in early June. 

I left for OCS the following week and was gone until the middle of August. When I returned, we had movers pack up our modest belongings and headed for Virginia. I spent the next six months in what the Marine Corps called The Basic School or simply TBS. It was a grueling entry-level course which focused heavily on Marine infantry training and every officer went through it regardless of what he she later did. Pilots, lawyers, and everyone else went through TBS so that they all had this common experience of what it was like for the guy on the ground serving in the infantry. We joined a local Baptist Church there and attended every single Sunday I wasn't in the field.

About a month before graduation, I got orders to my first permanent duty station at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. One of the first things we did when we arrived there was to find another local, Bible-believing, independent, fundamental Baptist Church where we began attending.

At some point, my old doubts about answered prayer began once again rearing their ugly head. I remember having to work up the nerve to tell my wife about these doubts of mine and I was more than a little afraid of what she might think. After all, I was the head of the family. How could I be leading her and have serious doubts about something as basic and fundamental as to whether or not there's a God "up there" listening who cares about us? 

Not surprisingly, her answers came in the form of anecdotal stories she'd picked up along the way. She recited one she'd heard about Brother so-and-so who was "miraculously" healed of his terminal cancer after a prayer vigil. That was followed by a tale of Sister so-and-so who was a widow who needed a hundred dollars to keep her electricity on. A check came from out of the blue for $110! The extra ten bucks was so she could pay tithing on the other hundred after paying her bill. Hallelujah! Another miracle! Of course, there was no mention about the little girl from our church who died of leukemia after a similar prayer vigil or the couple that lost their Christian book business and went bankrupt in spite of many prayers on their behalf. Those too, were all the will of God. In other words, no matter what happened it was God's will whether you prayed or not but you had to pray because it pleases God who is listening but who works in mysterious ways. Whew! Are you dizzy yet?

Once again, I shoved those doubts deep, deep down inside and went on living like this for another three years before making the decision to leave church after a very long sermon on an Easter Sunday. But before I get to that, I should add that it was in this particular church that I met a woman who was almost as attractive as my own wife. Her name was also Kathy but she spelled hers with a "K." She also happened to be the pastor's daughter. 

Kathy wasn't a little girl but an adult and a married woman. Her husband was named Dean, who was a former enlisted Marine and a convert to Christianity. He met Kathy while stationed at Camp Lejeune and began attending services and was soon "saved" then engaged and later married to her. As such, he'd sewn his fair share of wild oats before settling down with Kathy. She, on the other hand, was the consummate good girl who'd never done a single thing wrong in her life. Many said they were the ideal couple in our church although more than a few others thought that was an honor that belonged to me and my Cathy. Regardless, he was good-looking guy with a great smile and she was beautiful young woman with very long blonde hair, amazing C-cup boobs, and a perfect smile of her own. 

My interest in her was due not only to her obvious external beauty but also to the fact she regularly wore the kind of things that got me all hot and bothered. She played the piano and the organ in church, so she was up front with her father for the first 15-20 minutes every Sunday and she caught me staring at her more than a few times. I would be zoning out on the sermon and instead looking at her soft, round mounds under whatever very pretty sweater she was wearing that day. When she realized I was staring at her, she played it cool so as not to draw attention to it. She never gave me the "skunk eye" but I'd seen her give it to more than one guy who was guilty of the same offense as me. In my case, she'd just wait until I looked up at her face and then smile ever-so-briefly at me. It was a polite way of saying, "I'm not upset, but you are looking at my boobs, Brother Cal."

The four of us weren't socially close by any means, but we were all cordial with one another and on one occasion we had dinner with them. That was about a year before I quit going to church and maybe 18 months before I was scheduled to be discharged. 

After the meal, Dean and I were swapping "war stories" (neither of us had been in combat) while our wives chattered away about various things. I wasn't paying any attention to their conversation until I overheard my Cathy say, "Oh, Cal loves sweaters so I wear them all the time for him." 

My ears perked up and I heard Kathy say, "I'm sure he appreciates that a lot. I love sweaters. You always look so pretty in yours. I'm guessing they must be the kind he favors."

Cathy then spent a fair amount of time describing exactly what I liked in terms of colors and style, and that surprised me because this just wasn't something women like them would talk about especially with us sitting right there with them. 

Kathy continued by saying, "Oh, I love sweaters. They're definitely my favorite thing to wear. It's cold here about seven months out of the year so they're also very practical." 

Cathy smiled and said, "Oh, he's noticed that you wear them. Trust me." Dean's wife was immediately embarrassed and mine said quickly, "Oh, no! Don't be embarrassed. It's just that you're obviously a very pretty girl and it's understandable my husband—or any guy for that matter—would notice." Her explanation only served to add to Kathy's obvious discomfort.

Kathy recovered fairly quickly and said, "Well, Dean doesn't share my preference. He prefers things that are a little more..." She hesitated and was clearly embarrassed again. At this point Dean finally realized I wasn't listening to him at all. He stopped talking and noticed I was listening to our wives and did so himself. The girls had no idea we'd overheard any of this.

Dean chimed in out of the blue saying, "It's okay, honey. You can say 'revealing.' After all, it's true. I like short skirts and low-cut dresses but Kathy can't wear them for obvious reasons. Well, except here at home when it's just the two of us." 

Dean laughed at his own comment. Kathy did not. She was blushing deeply and put her hands over her face. "I can't believe you said that, Dean! I'm so embarrassed! How could you do that? How could you say something so personal in front of friends from church, honey?"

Dean was still smiling and he just winked my way when he said to her, "Well, it's the truth and we do need to be honest in all things, right, sweetheart?" She turned to Cathy for a little sympathy which she received in spades. Kathy soon recovered again and the conversation was forgotten as quickly as it had started. Or so it seemed.

Little did I know that that conversation set Kathy's mind in motion and started her on a path toward temptation and a desire for new experiences which led her to my house about a year and a half later. She told me that after that conversation, she carefully chose what she wore each Sunday with one objective in mind—to draw my attention to her. She said she alternated between feelings of deep shame and total exhilaration each time she found herself choosing what to wear to church hoping I would end up lusting after her beautiful body. It was her own private fantasy world about which she told one until she shared it with me when a confluence of events brought her to my home and into my bedroom. 

Shortly after that dinner, I received orders to deploy on board the USS Okinawa for a period of six months as part of a Marine Expeditionary Unit. I was an infantry platoon commander as was my closest friend, George, who was killed during this deployment. He was gravely injured in a mortar attack and I remembered praying for him as sincerely as I could. Everyone liked George and he attended a different Baptist Church not far from our own. How could a loving God not want to spare such a good, decent, moral young man? Several hours later, he was dead and my doubts about prayer increased exponentially. Even so, I still wasn't ready to throw in the spiritual towel. At least not right then. 

When I returned, I only had about a year of obligated service remaining and had no idea I had only half that much time left in church.

My doubts continued to grow. One day I was eating lunch and something hit me out of the blue. I remembered what I thought was a line from Steinbeck's classic The Grapes of Wrath. As it turns out, I botched the quote, but what I thought I recalled made a huge impression on me whether I'd gotten it exactly right or mostly wrong. What I believed (by faith?) I was correctly recalling from that book was something which I attributed to Tom Joad. I thought I remembered him saying, "I used to believe they was a right and a wrong. Now I just believe theys things people do." For some reason, that (mis)quote stuck with me day in and day out until Easter Sunday when the final straw was laid that broke the camel's (spiritual) back. The reason prayers didn't get answered was now crystal clear. There's no one "up there listening." Right and wrong really were relative and there is no absolute morality from "on high." These revelations were literally tearing me apart at the seams.

I didn't mention the epiphany to Cathy. She'd recently met a young woman about our age and invited her to church on Easter Sunday. She and her husband did indeed visit and they also brought their year-old daughter who was back in the nursery where my wife often volunteered to work. On this particular Sunday that's where Cathy was while the man and his wife sat with me. 

The pastor of our church was very long-winded. No three-point sermons with a poem and a prayer for him. He often rambled on for over an hour and this particular Sunday was even worse. My friends weren't used to that and after 20 minutes the husband asked me how much longer he would be. I told him what he wanted to hear by saying, "Not too long" knowing that wasn't true. I remember praying in spite of my new-found beliefs to the contrary that God would guide the pastor into somehow miraculously stopping early just this once. After another 20 minutes of pastoral ranting and raving about sin and hell, this guy leaned over and said, "We really need to go check on our daughter. Is he almost done?" 

Like a bolt of lightning, it hit me. "This is bullshit. ALL religion was made up by people who were trying to explain the unexplainable during a time when the world was a very scary place. I'm done with this shit!"

Five minutes later, my friend grabbed his wife's hand, stood up, and said as he stepped past me, "I'm sorry but we can't stay any longer. Good bye." They walked out before the service was over but just I sat there thinking, "I'm right behind you, my friend. I can't take this any longer, either. I'm so outta here, too."

My wife cried when I told her how I felt later that evening. She said, "You just have to keep praying and trust God and work through this."

I told her as politely but as firmly as I knew how, "I'm sorry, honey. I love you but I am NEVER going back to church again. Ever." She continued attending for another two months then went to visit her grandmother in Kentucky. Her grandma was 90 years old and she'd sneak up into the attic 3-4 times a day to smoke a cigarette. My wife told me she found her joining Grandma and before she left, looking forward to having a cigarette. When she returned she told me, "I did a lot of thinking and I agree with you. I'm through with church, too."


The Pastor's Daughter



That was two weeks ago and now here we were getting ready to go into a store and buy her a pair of pants; something that would have been absolutely unthinkable just a few months before. Again, I asked myself how I could have ever gotten in so deep with something so...cultish. 

Chapter 2

My wife looked great in dresses and skirts but I'd forgotten how amazing she also looked in pants. She had such a tight little waist and I loved how she looked. Getting her some pants was just one of the many other firsts we experienced in the days and weeks that followed. One of the most significant for me was my decision to start drinking alcohol. I'd drank a little bit in high school, but all told that was probably less than a six-pack worth of beer and I'd never tried wine. To my very pleasant surprise, I found that red wine was one of life's greatest pleasures and it soon became a regular part of my life. As to Cathy and smoking, she'd tried it in junior high and when her grandmother snuck upstairs to smoke, she wanted to see what she was missing. It was her first "forbidden fruit." So for the next couple of years, she smoked. (Fortunately, she managed to quit.) That said, it was never an issue for me beyond her health because I'd become quite the Libertarian and if she wanted to smoke, that was fine by me. Secretly, I even found it a little bit sexy but I was grateful she only did it outside.

We'd stopped attending church a little over five months ago when Cathy came home from doing some shopping one day at the local mall. She set her things down and said, "You'll never guess who I ran into today." I told her I had no idea and she said, "Kathy. You know, as in Dean and Kathy."

I didn't mention I still thought about her often and even imagined Cathy was Kathy during sex every now and then. It was one thing to quit church and another altogether to tell your wife you wanted to fuck someone else. Especially someone she knew and thought was very pretty. Instead, I just said, "Wow. That must have been uncomfortable. How'd it go?"

"It was actually very pleasant. Kathy said she missed us at church but respected our decision. We did some catching up and then she said she'd like to stop by next weekend and spend some time talking with me. I let her know I'd be out of town visiting my parents and getting things ready for us to move back to Seattle. That won't leave much time after I get back before the movers pack us up but she may stop by and say hi sometime."

"That's too bad it didn't work out, but I'm sure she'll find the time to stop by before we leave."

"Yeah, it would be really nice to see her. She's such a nice person. Dean, too, for that matter," she added.

I didn't give the conversation any more thought until Cathy was out of town and the doorbell rang that Friday evening about 7 o'clock. I was drinking a glass of merlot after making myself a TV dinner when I heard it ring. I went to the door and looked through the peephole and was very surprised to see Kathy standing on the porch. It was turning cold and I noticed she was wearing a black coat and gloves and I could see her breath. I'd forgotten just how pretty she was.

I opened the door and said, "Oh my goodness! How in the world are you, Kathy? Please come in. It's freezing out here." Then I realized it was "wrong" for a married woman to be alone with a man and said, "Um. I'm sorry. Cathy's not home. She went to visit her mom and dad for a few days. I should have told you that before I invited you in."

I was very surprised when Kathy said, "Oh, I didn't know she wasn't home. I guess I should have called first." She stood there for a moment as if she was thinking about something. Finally she looked at me and said, "Well, I guess I could come in for a few minutes just to say hello, if that's okay?"

I gestured for her to come in and as she did I closed the door behind her. I showed her to the couch and offered to take her coat. "Oh, um, that's okay. I won't stay long. I just wanted to stop by and talk to Cathy for a few minutes. I wish I'd known she wasn't here."

Then I remembered the conversation Cathy and I had about her bumping into Kathy at the mall. I began to suspect something might going on but didn't want to mention how I knew that she knew Cathy was out of town. Instead I said, "Can I get you something to drink or maybe even to eat? I make a mean TV dinner," I said with false bravado.

Kathy laughed. "No thanks. As tempting as runny potatoes and mystery meat sound, I think I'll pass on the dinner. Maybe just something to drink, please?"

I realized my wine glass was sitting on the table in plain view so it seemed silly to pretend it wasn't mine so I picked it up and said, "Well, as you can see, I'm having a glass of red wine. Give me just a second and I'll see what else we have that might be more to your liking, okay?"

Kathy said, "That's okay. And for the record, I don't mind that you're drinking wine. This is your home and you're over 21 so it isn't my business." She sat quietly for a moment as I began looking through the refrigerator for juice or a soda when she said, "Honestly, I've wondered what wine tastes like all my life." I stopped rummaging and closed the door. Kathy paused for a moment then said, "Would it be okay if I tried a little?"

I didn't show my surprise, but I was shocked by her request. I managed to play it cool and told her, "Of course it's okay—at least with me. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I'm sure," she said. "But just a little bit, okay? I've never tried it before and I don't want to waste it if I don't like the taste."

I got down another glass and poured about half the normal amount into hers, picked up mine, and joined her on the couch. I handed her the glass and sat down next to her leaving about enough space for someone to sit between us.

"This is quite a surprise," I said to her as she took the glass. "Not only you having a glass of wine with me but just seeing you." I hesitated then added quickly, "A very pleasant surprise."

Her smile was amazing and she was definitely smiling. "I'm glad to see you too, Brother Cal. Oh, sorry. Old habits with the 'brother' thing." She quickly changed the subject, "Aren't we supposed to toast first?" Kathy asked. 

"Oh, yes! A toast. Most definitely." I thought for a moment and said, "How about a toast to trying new things?"

Kathy laughed then repeated my toast as we lightly clinked glasses. "Take very small sips, okay?" I warned her.

"Oh, okay. And thank you! I might have drunk it like Kool Aid had you not warned me," she said continuing to smile brightly.

Kathy took a small sip, swallowed and said, "Mmmm. It's not bad. I mean, it's a lot stronger than I expected, but it's actually quite pleasant. Thank you, Cal."

"You're welcome," I replied. "So can I get your coat for you now?" I asked again.

Kathy looked down and away and then back toward me. "Umm. No. I think it would be better if I just kept it on."

"Okay. As you wish," I said politely. "But I promise you it isn't cold in here and you'll find that drinking wine makes you feel a little warm rather quickly."

Kathy took another larger sip and I saw her raise her eyebrows. "Ohh! I feel this sort of tingle at the back of my neck." She giggled and put her hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry! I have no idea why I just laughed."

"It's the wine. That feeling is from the alcohol. Do you like it?" I asked her.

Kathy thought for a moment then said, "I do. It's very...new." She laughed again then added, "And very pleasant." She took another large sip and I noticed hers was nearly gone.

"Would you like a little more or do you need to run?" I asked.

"Um. Well, I could have just a little more, I suppose. Do you mind?"

"No, of course not. I'm actually very grateful for your company. I fully expected my Friday night to be spent with this bottle and the TV." Oh, shit! TV is also a no-no. "Sorry, Kathy. I know television is..."

She stopped me in mid-sentence. "Please don't apologize, Cal. You're living your life the way you want to now and that's all that matters." I brought her the second glass. She thanked me then said, "Actually, I admire that. I mean, the way you're living the new life you want to live, that is. And...well..." Kathy looked down for a moment then without looking up said quietly, "I'm a little bit envious in some way too, I guess."

"How so?" I asked as she took another drink.

"Well, I mean...you're not constrained by the Bible and church and all that anymore and sometimes I wish..." She stopped and set down her glass. "You were right. I do feel kind of warm all of a sudden." 

"I told you!" I said matter of factly. "So may I help with your coat then?" I asked without sounding insistent. It made no sense to me that she would show up to see Cathy knowing she was out of town but then choose to come inside, try drinking alcohol for the first time, but not take off her coat. I just didn't get it.

Again, Kathy hesitated before answering, "I am a little too warm to leave it on but I'm also a little too embarrassed to take it off." She looked at me then said, "That must sound ridiculous—maybe even schizophrenic."

"I'll admit I'm not sure what's going on here, but you're my guest and I want you to be comfortable. You can certainly decide what to do when it comes to your own coat, but if you plan to stay a while it might be best to take it off."

Kathy was clearly uncomfortable but I had no idea what to say to change that so I waited for her to explain what was going on.

"I haven't been completely honest with you," she finally said.

"How so?" I asked. "If you don't mind sharing, that is."

Kathy looked down into her glass as she began by saying, "I was honest about wanting to try new things. That part is true. I've been honest about feeling a little tipsy and in saying that it feels nice. But I didn't tell you the truth about why I really came here."

I waited for her to look back at me again. "Listen. Whatever's going on, I'm not here to judge you. Lord knows you get enough of that in church." I was pleased when Kathy smiled at that remark. "So whatever the truth is doesn't really matter. I'm glad you're here and this is very nice. Well, at least for me anyway." I was now smiling at her.

"The truth is," she began. "I knew Cathy wasn't home." She looked down again and I could see she was being torn by conflicting or competing emotions. "I don't know if she mentioned it, but we ran into each other in the mall and she told me she'd be out of town this weekend." Another long pause without looking up. "After we parted company, I decided to actually do something I've thought about doing many, many times." More silence.

"What might that be, Kathy? What 'ominous' thing did you plan to do?" I said kindly.

Again, she looked up and then back at me. "Do you remember when we all had dinner at our house and the topic of what you like a woman to wear came up?" Kathy was so sweet and demure and so...beautiful.

"I do," I answered honestly. "My wife spilled her guts telling every detail of my one and only fetish." I paused for a moment then said, "Fetish may be too strong a word but 'preference' certainly fits the bill."

Kathy laughed politely. "After Cathy left the mall, I spent the rest of the afternoon shopping."

"That hardly sounds terrible to me," I said in a playful way.

"No, silly. Shopping isn't the problem. It's what I was thinking about and what I was shopping for that's the problem." Again she looked down. "Dean and my dad are in Haiti doing missionary work for a week and I came here with the hope that you might see me wearing what I bought and think I'm...attractive to you. But then when you opened the door I lost my nerve and wanted to just turn around and get in the car and go home. When you asked me to come in, I felt trapped. I couldn't tell you the truth but running away seemed impolite so I forced myself to come inside. Once I managed to come in, I was secretly glad I did but I still couldn't find the courage to take my coat off and show you what I wore in the hope it would get your attention. And now...maybe it's the alcohol...but I don't feel as guilty about what I've done and...I want to show you what I'm wearing. At least a part of me does, anyway. The rest of is screaming to get up and leave." Another long pause. "Do you think I'm some kind of Jezebel or evil temptress?" she asked quietly without raising her head.

I reached over and took her tiny hand in mine and waited for her to look at me again. When our eyes met I felt like I could see several things: loneliness, sadness, confusion, and even excitement. "Kathy. You don't need to wear anything special to make yourself beautiful. You are beautiful. In fact, you're very beautiful. I really do understand how you're feeling. Or at least I think I do. In my case, I wanted to make up for so much lost time, as it were, for the years I spent living a life that was so restricted and so...sterile." I held up my wine glass and continued, "This is a perfect example. I wanted to know what I might be missing. Clearly, something or some things are missing from your own life and you're also curious about what you might be missing things you'd like to experience. You're here it seems, to find out if that's the case. Am I close?"

Kathy smiled. "That's amazing. I can't believe how insightful you are. It's as though you somehow managed to read my mind." She looked up at me and said, "Is it that obvious?"

Rather than answer I just said, "Here. Let me help you with this." I reached up and grabbed her coat around the collar to help her take it off. She went to stand up and as she did, she lost her balance ever so slightly. "Oh my goodness!" she said. "I'm so sorry. I think I'm getting drunk!" She giggled like a teenager.

"You okay?" I asked her as she steadied herself. "Just so you know you can't get drunk on that small an amount of wine. But since it is your first time and because it's a totally new experience for you, I can see how you might possibly think you might be. But I can assure you that you most definitely are not."

Kathy unbuttoned her coat and as it slipped off her shoulders, I was dumbstruck when I saw what she was wearing. Her long blonde hair covered her bare shoulders and the top of the most beautiful off-the-shoulder white cashmere sweater I'd ever seen. It was very thin and almost gauzy looking and I loved how it exposed her shoulders, collar bones, and neckline. That was certainly the kind of thing a Christian woman would never wear in public. As she turned around, her head was slightly bowed down which gave me time to notice she was wearing a very thin, white camisole underneath it. Even so, I could still make out the outline of her nipples which were very large and very visible through the thin, almost-sheer material. 

As taboo as this top was, I was even more shocked when I noticed the skirt she was wearing. Anything above the knee was a serious no-no and yet this petite little black skirt was at least four inches above the knee thus revealing a pair of very shapely legs. Her opened-toed black heels gave her calves a very refined, very sexy kind of emphasis that made her long legs look even more so. As she finally raised her head to look at me I noticed a beautiful necklace and matching long, dangling earrings all made of liquid silver.

"So?" Kathy asked demurely.

"I guess I was wrong," I said quietly.

Kathy looked crestfallen. "You don't like it, do you," she said with an air of disappointment bordering on hurt.

I reached out my hand and lifted her chin ever so gently. Our eyes met. "Kathy. When I said you didn't need to wear anything in particular to be beautiful I meant that. I just had no idea that wearing something this...well...sexy...could make you this attractive." She smiled and looked back down. I reached out my hands and took both of hers. As our eyes met again I said, "You look truly amazing. And I have to ask. You did all of this for me?"

Kathy looked down again and very quietly said, "Yes. Everything. I spent hours searching for the perfect skirt, the perfect sweater, the perfect shoes, and the perfect jewelry."

I stepped in closer to her while raising her hands to just below chest level. "Were the thoughts you were having when you bought these things with me in mind also a new first for you?" I inquired.

"Yes," she said again very quietly.

"And did you like the way they made you feel?"

Another one-word answer was whispered. "Yes."

"And you've enjoyed drinking wine for the first time in your life?"

"Very much."

I moved a bit closer then asked her, "So would you like to experience other things here tonight for the first time?"

I heard Kathy's voice tremble as she told me, "Yes."

"Is this the first time you've held hands with another man?"

"Yes." Each answer was so quiet I could barely hear her. Kathy was now finally looking directly into my eyes. Hers were darting back and forth between both of my own.

"Would you like to be held by another man for the first time?"

"Yes. If that other man is you. Then I'd like that very much."

I let go of Kathy's hands and put my arms around her as she embraced me at the same time. The smell of her perfume mixed with her shampoo was overwhelming. "Mmmm. I love your perfume. It smells wonderful on you."

"Thank you," she said. Her head was nuzzled into the crook of my neck as her right hand held the middle of my back. Her left hand was running up and down the back of my head and neck even as my own hands were exploring her back and the back of her upper arms.

"May I experience another first?" she whispered.

Before I could answer she raised her head from my shoulder and brought it in front of my own. "Will you please kiss me, Cal?" she said in a way that was almost a plea of some kind.

"Of course I will." I leaned down and watched her close her eyes as our lips met for the first time. A soft, gentle kiss and then another. "Would you like to be French kissed by another man for the first time?" I asked.

"Yes. Very much. More than you can imagine," Kathy said softly. Our lips met again and as they pressed hard one another's I slid my tongue into her warm, waiting mouth. "Mmmm. That's amazing," she murmured between kisses.

We stood there kissing and as we did, I raised my left hand and placed it just below her right breast with my thumb in the crease of her soft boob. I heard her gasp so I then cupped it and began kneading it softly. Then I felt her hand reach up and take mine as she said, "Can we just kiss? Is that okay for now?"

I didn't let my disappointment show as I quietly answered, "Of course it is—for now." After a few moments I said, "Would you like to dance with me?"

"Another first?" she teased softly. "Yes. I would love to dance with you."

I had a CD of slow dancing music in my DVD player and hit the play button. I turned back toward Kathy and said, "May I have this dance?"

She smiled brightly and said, "Yes, of course you may."

As we danced Kathy alternated between just holding me close, kissing me, and French kissing. Many of them were very deep as she tried to give me her entire tongue. When I did the same to her, she would suck on mine as hard as she could.

"Are you having a nice time?" I asked her.

"Very," she replied. "I love doing new things and being here with you...like this." A few moments passed by and she said, "If I don't say this now I may not have the strength to say it later. I can't go all the way with you tonight. Okay? Anything else is fine but that's a line I can't let myself cross. Will you promise me you won't pressure me to do that?"

I looked into her eyes and said, "I promise you I won't do anything you don't want me to do. You have my word on that. Fair enough?"

Kathy smiled and said, "More than fair. And thank you for respecting my boundaries."




The Pastor's Daughter



During the second song and during a very deep, very passionate French kiss, I took Kathy's breast into my hand again and this time she moaned softly, "Mmmm. That feels so good, Cal. Please don't stop doing that."

As the song ended we were near the couch and without taking my hand off her soft, round breast, I sat her down on the sofa and gently pushed her back. She fell back willingly then took my hand and put it underneath her soft sweater. As I massaged her boobs, Kathy began to breathe harder and her sighs grew deeper. "Mmmmm. That feels SO nice. I love that," she moaned.

I slid in next to her and then slowly moved my hand down her tummy toward her belly button. She pulled me close and French kissed me very deeply. "That feels so good," she said again. I continued moving lower until the heel of my hand was on her mound. I pressed down firmly and heard Kathy gasp sharply. "Yesss! That feels sooo good." I began stroking her clit through her skirt with my fingers when she once again took my hand and said, "Do you mind if we stay upstairs?" I complied with her request and went back to squeezing her large soft boobs.

Several minutes passed with more heaving petting and kissing when I decided to try moving south again. As my fingers began massaging her pussy through her skirt she cried out in pleasure. "Yes! Mmmm. I love that. That feels so good."

I alternated between her breast and her covered pussy and then gently lifted her skirt up and slid my hand in between her legs. My first discovery was that her panties were drenched in her own juices. I initially stroked her clit with my thumb over her silky panties which brought another very deep, very sharp gasp. "Mmmm. Yes! Oh, my...gosh...that feels so good."

I continued to fondle her then said softly, "Kathy? You're soaking wet. No decent host would allow a beautiful woman to stay in wet clothes would he?"

"Mmmm. No. I don't suppose he would. That would be very rude," she murmured with a soft laugh.

I felt her raise up to allow me to remove her lacy black panties. I dropped them to the floor then said, "That's much better, isn't it?"

My first two fingers were already deep inside her hole as she gasped, "Yes. Much...better. Thank you. Ohhh!!"

"My pleasure," I assured her.

I lifted up her sweater and camisole and took her nipple into my mouth. "Oh, sh..." Kathy stopped.

"Have you ever used bad language during sex, sweetie?" I asked as I swirled my tongue around her nipple.

"No. Never."

"But you want to, right?"

Kathy was breathing very hard and her body was trembling. "Y...yes. I do."

"Then please do. Tonight is about new firsts, remember? It's okay to let go, all right?" I said hoping to coax her into saying and doing things that were so evil she could never even dream of them.

"Okay. I'll...try," she said bravely.

I began working my way down her stomach and over her skirt that laid on it. In a moment my mouth was in front of her soft, sweet pussy and I said, "Your pussy is so beautiful, honey." I moved in close and kissed it several times sending shudders through Kathy's body.

"Mmmm. Thank you. That feels so good. No one's ever done that to me before. Oh, sh...shit! Oh! That feels so...da... so da..."

I slid my tongue deep inside then up and onto her engorged clit. "It's okay, baby. You can say it."

Kathy moaned very loudly. "Oh, my go... That feels so da...so DAMN good!"

I licked harder and slower dragging my tongue slowly across her clit from top to bottom. "Good girl. Or should I say good 'bad' girl." I looked up to see Kathy smile. "Keep going," I urged her.

As I continued to lick I put two fingers back inside her. "Oh, fu..." She stopped short.

"It's okay. Don't hold back. Express yourself, sweetheart. Go ahead—say it."

I slipped a third finger in and stretched her pussy. Kathy grabbed for the side of the couch and gasped over and over. "Oh, f...fu...FUCK that feels SO good!"

"It's just you and me, Kathy. There's no one else watching or recording us. Say whatever you feel. And honestly? It really turns me on when a woman talks dirty. I love that."

Kathy started grabbing at me and pulling me toward her. She was breathing hard. She said huskily, "I want to make you feel as good as you're making me feel. Is that okay?"

I kissed and said, "I'd like that very much." Kathy groped for my belt buckle which she found and released followed by the button and zipper on my jeans. I helped her pull them down then kicked them and my underwear off.

"I want to see you," she said. "I want to see...it."

Kathy was desperate but I wouldn't give her what she wanted. "Uh, uh. Not until you tell me what you want to see."

Kathy's eyes were desperate. "That's not fair," she whined. "I just want you to let me see how big you are. I...I want to take you in...my mouth so bad. Please let me have your...thing," she begged me.

"Then tell me exactly what you want, Kathy. What is my 'thing' called? What is the adult word for it, sweetheart?"

She was panting and grabbing frantically but I kept things out of her reach.

She was beside herself. "I want...I want your co..."

"Say it for me, sweetheart. Go ahead."

"I want...your...cock!" Her motions were frantic reaching for my dick. "I want your cock in my mouth so bad, Cal. Now may I please, please have it?"

I climbed up on top of her and lowered my rock-hard shaft into her open mouth. She eagerly took it. First the tip then slowly she took as much of it as she could until I heard her gag. I instinctively pulled back and she said immediately, "Uh, uh. Don't pull away. I want your cock in my mouth. Deeper this time, okay?" Kathy sucked and gagged and chocked until I couldn't take anymore.

I sat up then sat her up. My back was to the back of the couch and I pulled her on top of me. "Let me take off your skirt," I said.

"Okay, but we cannot have sex no matter what," Kathy reminded me. She reached back and unzipped her short skirt then swung sideways long enough to kick it off. When she spun back around her pussy was just inches from my engorged shaft."

"I can't believe how big your cock is." Then she giggled a bit as she said, "Of course, I've only seen one other cock in my entire life so maybe his is just really small." For some reason that made Kathy laugh.

"Does his fit in your mouth?" I teased.

She raised her eyebrows and said matter of factly, "I don't know. I've never done that with my husband. And he's never done what you were doing to me. Those were definitely both more firsts for me. Very fun firsts, if I may say so."

She slid closer and her pussy pushed up hard against my cock. "Did you like giving me your first blow job?" I asked.

"I did. It made me feel so sexy and...and..."

"You can tell me anything, Kathy. How else did it make you feel?"

"Kind of...slutty? And I...I...really liked feeling that way. At least with you."

I began moving my hips to slide my cock up and down her pussy.

"Oh my Go..."

I pulled her close and kissed her deeply. "Saying that is the hardest thing of all, isn't it?"

"Yes. It's so...forbidden. It's so taboo. It's...blasphemy."

"But you want to say it, don't you?"

"Yes. I want to be a bad girl for once in my life. I want to experience everything I've missed."

"Then say it. If not for me, then for you. It's okay. Lightning will not strike. I promise."

I pushed very hard and Kathy ground her pussy into my cock. "Oh my...GOD that feels so GOOD!!"

I pushed her back slightly then grabbed my cock and guided the tip onto her clit and began rolling the head of my dick around her love button.

"Oh, fuck! That feels so god...that feels so...so...god...so goddamned GOOD! I love that!" Kathy squealed and moaned and said, "Just don't put it inside me, okay?" 

I didn't answer. I just kept stroking her clit. "Jes...Oh, Jes..."

"Go ahead, sweetie. Don't hold back. No regrets tonight, okay?"

Kathy was biting her lip and her eyes were shut tightly. "Jesus...Oh, Jesus Christ! That feels SO fucking good! Oh, God that feels good. Mmmmm! I fucking LOVE that!"

I knew she was losing control but she had to leave believing we didn't have sex or that she insisted I fuck her. I kissed her hard and asked, "Am I getting all of your clit like this, honey, or should I go just a little further up and down? What would you like?"

Kathy was now fully aroused. "Mmmmm. It feels so good like that but maybe just a tiny bit further up and down. Just not inside me, okay?"

Again, I didn't respond. Instead I started at the top of her labia and slowly worked my way over her clitoris then down to the bottom of it and allowed about half of the mushroom inside her. Kathy moaned. So far so good. "Was that better, honey?" I asked as I continued doing the same thing.

"Yes. Much better. That was...perfect. Keep doing it just like that for me, okay?"

Several more times I did the same thing. Then on the bottom stroke I let the entire mushroom slip inside briefly before pulling it up and over her swollen clit. "Oh, yes. Fuck yeah. Goddamn it that feels so good!" she moaned.

Another six or seven of the same strokes and then I pushed my cock in about an inch. Kathy shuddered. "Feel good, sweetie?" I asked.

"Yes! That feels so, so good, honey. Just don't put it inside me all the way. I can't have sex with you. Please?"

I repeated that over and over until Kathy seemed lost in her new emotions and then after sliding my cock in half way, I pushed it all the way to the hilt once and then back out sliding it over her clit.

"Mmmm. That felt SO amazingly good, honey. But no deeper than that, okay?"

I tried not to laugh because there wasn't any deeper than that but illusion could be my ally. I went all the way back in and this time Kathy pushed back on the one, single stroke deep inside her pussy and then pulled back. "Oh, fuck, that feels SO fucking good! More, please!" she begged.

This time I went in as deep as possible and held it there while she ground her pussy hard; pushing down in order to hit her clit. "Oh, Jesus. Oh, God! Oh...fuck!!"

Kathy's entire body began to quiver and tremble. "Jesus! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh, FUCK!! I'm cumming."

I pulled out of her quickly and pushed her down on the couch. She was reaching for her pussy to diddle her twat and finish the deal as I allowed myself to let go of the huge load that had built up inside of me. Kathy was screaming as I shot my load of hot, sticky goo all over her pretty sweater and beautiful face. As her bucking and screaming subsided she reached up and used her index finger to grab a large string of my cum. She hungrily took it in her mouth and licked her finger clean. "Mmmmm. Another first!" she said while giggling. "It tastes...salty." She found another long string and did the same thing. "I like your cum, Cal," she said with a smile.

We rolled off the couch and onto the floor then both of us began to laugh.

"How did you like your series of firsts?" I said as I smoothed her messy hair.

"Mmmm. I loved them all," she said as she caressed my face with her hand. "There's one more first I'd like to experience if it's okay with you," she said as we held each other.

"What's that?" I asked her.

"I'd like to spend the night with you."

"On one condition," I told her.

"What's that?" she asked me.

"That we take a shower together first." I smiled and kissed her again.

"That sounds nice. I guess we are a bit of a mess. Especially me, huh?" she said wickedly. "Speaking of messes, you've made a huge one all over me. Did I tell you this sweater cost $300? " she said.

"No, you didn't. That's a lot of money. The big question then is this: did you get your money's worth tonight?"

Kathy kissed me and said, "Oh, yes. Every penny of it."

I stood up, took her hand, and helped her to her feet. We kissed one another a few times before I took her hand and lead her to my bedroom where we spent a very long time thoroughly washing and cleaning each other's bodies before finishing off that bottle of wine and making love again before falling asleep in one another's arms.

The next morning, I lay there watching Kathy sleep until she woke up and saw me. "Hi there," I said. I kissed her good morning and asked her, "You okay?"

She turned toward me and said, "My head hurts a little bit but other than that, yes. I am. But..."

"But what?" I asked her.

"Well, it's just that...well, after—this—I don't think I can ever go back to the way things were because this is the life I want now. Not that I want to take you away from your wife or get a divorce or anything. I just want more of this and less of...that."

I brushed her hair gently and said, "Then that's what you need to tell Dean. Let him know how you feel and my sense is he'll come around and follow you out."

"It's not Dean I'm worried about. It's my dad. I agree with you about Dean. I think he does believe all that stuff, but I'm pretty sure he only got into it because of me. And I'm pretty sure he'd leave it all behind for me, too. But my dad will disown me and that scares me."

I held her close. "You can't live your life in fear, Kathy. We only get one of them. There are no dress rehearsals and once you realize this life is all there is then it becomes extremely important to make every day count." I paused and then continued by saying, "When I realized religion—all religion—was invented by human beings—I didn't want to waste one more day being a slave to it. And now you know what you want to do and what you need to do. The only question is will you follow your head and leave or follow your heart to avoid hurting your father and stay? You can't live his life for him but you must live your own and live it to its fullest. Last night was a good start, don't you think?"

"Fuck me again and I'll let you know, okay?" she said with a wicked smile.