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The Circuit Rider

By: Silverstag



Fornication, damnation and hell fire. Those were my topics - in that order -and variations thereof were my main message. I had probably preached the same sermon - with slight variations - a thousand times in my days as a circuit riding preacher. Because I was a circuit rider my audience varied from week to week and since I served from six to eight churches I only had a to make variations every six or eight weeks. 

If I sound cynical I was and, admittedly, that's not a good attribute for a man of the cloth. It hadn't always been so. As a bare-faced graduate of the Tonganoxie Bible College I had possessed, as the old preacher's were fond of saying, the fire in the belly. However, after more than 20 years of dealing with people in the real world the fire in my belly was provided mostly by the corn liquor I was able to acquire in my travels.

The Tonganoxie Bible College is no more. It closed it's doors shortly after I graduated in 1863. Tonganoxie was best known as the short-time capitol of Kansas. It held that lofty position for a brief time while the pro-slavers were in command of things but the capitol moved to Topeka when the Free-Staters took control. Of course when Kansas came into the Union as a free state it was one of the things that provoked the Civil War but that's another story.

Fresh out of seminary I answered the call of a small Presbyterian Church in the town of Hillsboro, Kansas and worked mightily to spread the word of the Lord and in the process began to discover how great a difference there was between the demeanor of people in the pews on Sunday and how they conducted themselves the rest of the week.

I grew to know the butcher who reveled in teaching the men's Sunday School class and regularly put his thumb on the scales in his shop. There was the banker who was a deacon in the church and a mover and shaker in the Chamber of Commerce. He put pocket change in the collection plate while charging usurious interest rates to people who could ill afford them and heartless when it came to foreclosing . I learned about the Doctor who gave generously in the offering plate and loved to examine young boys, paying particular attention to their penis and testicles. It was a small town and as a preacher I was often called upon to counsel my flock. The more I learned the more cynical I became.

I also learned that many women, single and married, lusted for a preacher - especially a young and unattached one. I was advised by my mentors to marry - it would advance my career and I assumed that I would when and if the right woman came along. I was a virgin, not uncommon for young seminary grads in those days.

My life changed after I decided to preach a series of sermons on the Ten Commandments. Ten Commandments, ten sermons. By the time I got to number seven - the big A - I was hitting my stride. I didn't lay it on too thick about fornication, that came later in my career but I must have made my point.

On Tuesday afternoon I was alone in my little office in that little church when an older woman walked in and I struck gold - or in this case, silver - in the form of Mrs. Sterling. She had silver hair and a regal bearing. She was the wife of the only lawyer in town and a very attractive older woman with a magnificent figure as far as I could ascertain from my frightfully lusty looks at her in church. She had been the object of many of my masturbation sessions. Yes, young ministers do masturbate.

I stood up when she approached my desk and said, "Mrs. Sterling, how nice to see you. How may I be of service?"

She sat down on the chair in front of my desk, straightened her dress, touched her hair self-consciously and said, "Reverend I have been thinking about your sermon this past Sunday and I need your help."

I was speechless for a moment and than said, "I'll be very glad to help you, if I can. Perhaps you can be more specific."

She paused and said, "I have committed adultery, I won't tell you when or with whom but that has let the devil get inside of me."

"Inside of you?"

"Yes, inside of me."

"Is the devil in your mind?"

"Lower."

"In your heart?"

"Lower than that."

"In your belly? Are you pregnant?"

"No thank God I'm not. Do I have to tell you explicitly where the devil is?"

"I think I get the picture."

"Good," she said and neither of us spoke for perhaps a minute. Then I took a deep breath and said, "Mrs. Sterling I'm not sure how I can help you. Presbyterians don't do exorcisms as I am sure you are well aware."

She paused and then smiled craftily at me and said "I thought perhaps another man's seed, some sanctified seed as it were, would drive the devil's seed out of me."

"But can't your hu.. hu.. husband do that?"

"Mr. Sterling, I fear, has not fulfilled his husbandly duties for several years. Why do you think I committed adultery."

My mind began to race. Either this woman was very stupid and ill-informed or she was trying to seduce me. I opted for the latter and, being a young man and still a virgin decided to see where this would lead. I would like to say that I prayed about and pondered this decision for some time but that would be a lie and a violation of the 9th commandment.

"Mrs. Stu...Stu...Sterling, what are you proposing?

"You're an intelligent young man. I think you'll figure it out. I might add that I've noticed the way you look at me in church. It's extremely flattering."

Busted. I paused and said, "What should I do?"

"You can start by taking off your clothes."

"You want to see my, my"

She interrupted me to say, "How delightfully naive you are. I want to see your cock, your prick, your tool, whatever you choose to call it."

I paused and smiled and said, "Alright, I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours."

"That seems fair," she said and pulled up her dress. She was wearing silk hose, apparently held up by a garter belt. She had great legs meeting at her groin which was covered by a thatch of abundant black hair.

She touched her head and than her crotch and said, "You'll notice that there may be snow on the mountain top but there's fire down below. Now get undressed and show me what you've got for me."

I stood up and began to undress. She stood up and took off her dress. She stood before me naked except for her garter belt, stockings and shoes. Her breasts were full with but a bit of sag, crowned by luscious looking erect pink nipples. Her belly had some matronly paunch but she was magnificent looking and the first nude, or almost nude woman I had ever seen.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"Good God Almighty," I said and then I realized that I'd just violated the third commandment.

I hastily removed the rest of my clothes while she looked at me lovingly and expectantly. When I was naked she looked me up and down and said, "It appears that the bible is not the only impressive tool in the preacher's arsenal. Come here, now."

I walked around my desk and stood in front of her. "May I touch your breasts?" I asked.

She nodded her head and said, "Be my guest."

I put my eager hands tenderly upon her massive orbs and lightly touched her nipples.

"Harder," she said, "they won't break."

Thus encouraged I gripped each one firmly, drawing my fingers out to tweak and knead her nipples.

She groaned and said, "That feels good and so does this," and she moved her hands to my crotch, squeezing my cock with one hand and cupping my balls with the other as if to weigh them.

I groaned and said, "May I kiss your breasts."

"Sweetie you can kiss them and suck them and even bite them, but not too hard."

I leaned down and took one impressive breast into my mouth, kissing and sucking and biting, but not too hard and moved my hands down her belly, running my fingers through her luxurious thatch of pubic hair and arriving at her tunnel of love. I ran my middle finger up her carnal canyon and was amazed at how wet she was.

"This feels wonderful," I said.

She laughed and said, "Just wait till you put your tool in there and than tell me how wonderful it feels."

"But I don't have a sofa in here," I said, "much less a bed."

"Silly boy," she replied, "we don't need a bed for what we're going to do." 

She moved away from me and leaned over, bracing her upper body upon my desk and waving her impressive ass at me. She spread her legs and said, "Saddle up and fuck me."

I moved behind her and made some tentative pokes at her privates. She reached around behind her, centered my randy cock at her moist entrance and said, "Fuck me."

I pushed into her, marveling at my first feel of a woman's insides.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I said.

"I'll bet you've wanted to," she said.

"Oh yes," I said, I've dreamed about this."

"I knew it," she said, "I saw the way you looked at me in church. I saw the hunger in your eyes. I was just waiting for the right opportunity. When you started your sermon series I could hardly wait for the seventh commandment.."

"Mrs. Sterling, you are a conniving woman."

"Call me what you will, conniving, seductive, a Jezebel. Call me what you will or, better yet, just shut up and fuck me."

And so I did and I must confess that it didn't take long. A few hard strokes inside her well of wonderness and I erupted. I gasped and, pulling out of her I said, "I'm sorry that I came so quickly."

She turned around, gave me a hug and a wet kiss and said, "That's alright. There'll be another time."

And indeed there was. She would come by my office or I would go to her house when her husband was away on business. Erelong I learned to postpone my orgasm and she taught me how to touch her and play with her and get her just to the point of climax before I plunged inside of her.

A month or so into our relationship we were lying, naked, on her big four poster bed, fondling each other. She said, "I want you to kiss me."

"Gladly," I said and moved my lips to hers.

"Not on my mouth," she said.

I stopped and said, "But where?"

"I want you to kiss my pussy."

"I've never done that," I said.

"Well give it a try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"Alright," I said, "I'll kiss it."

"You do that," she said, "and also suck it and bite it, but not too hard."

"How do we do it?"

"Get on your knees on the floor facing the side of the bed," she said, "just like you're about to say your nightly prayers."

I did and she moved her body to the edge of the bed, spreading her legs and pulling my face toward her nether lips. As I moved toward her she draped her legs across my shoulder and said, "Dinner is served."

"Should i wear a bib?"

She laughed and pulled my face firmly into her crotch almost smothering me. Her musky smell and the feel of her pubic hair on my face was breathtaking. Instinctively I darted my tongue into her folds relishing the taste of her. I began lapping like a dog after a long run.

"Go to it, preacher man," she said, "you'll never taste anything sweeter and juicier."

I grunted my approval. 

Then she said, "Move your tongue up higher and find my little button."

I did and I must have found it because she squealed in delight. I captured it between my teeth and gently nibbled while I licked her lovingly. She began to thrust her pelvis toward me in rhythm with my mouth with an occasional sigh and a squeezing of my face between her legs.

I stopped for a moment and said, "How'm I doing?"

"You're doing fine, so fine, so fine, so fucking fine."

Than she began to wail and keen and said, "Put your fingers in me."

I thrust my right index finger inside of her and she said, "More. More fingers. Fill me up."

I inserted a second finger and than a third and began to twist my hand as if I were trying to core an apple. She reached down and grabbed my hand with my palm up and my fingers touching the top of her channel. She said, "Strum me with your fingers. Play me. Play with me."

I did that and stopped licking her button.

"Don't stop with your mouth boy. Use your fingers and your mouth. Give me all you've got.."

I took a deep breath and dove back in, licking, sucking, nibbling and strumming like a one-man band and soon my performance was rewarded with a shuddering orgasm. I continued to lick and stroke until she cried out, "Stop. Stop. You're killing me."

That was certainly a commandment that I didn't want to violate so I stopped.

She sighed and said, "I think the earth moved."

I laughed and said, "I don't know about that but I think we did nudge the bed just a bit."

She caught her breath and said, "Now, sweetie, it''s your turn."

I moved to position myself between her legs to fuck her and she said, "Maybe I should rephrase that. Now it's my turn to do you. My pussy has had all the stimulation it can stand for one day."

She got up off the bed and said, "Now we change places."

"Are you going to put my penis in your mouth?"

"Sweetie I'm going to suck your cock until your little balls explode."

"Lord have mercy," I said.

"Well, it's only fair," she said, "you know what the bible says about the golden rule."

"Do unto others," I said.

"As you would have have them do unto you."

"Then by all means go ahead and do me."

She went right to work, taking my cock full into her mouth and cuddling my balls. She pursed her lips and sucked me passionately and hungrily.

I groaned and said, "Do you like to do this?"

She stopped her sucking long enough to say, "I love it."

This was the first time I'd ever been orally serviced by a woman so I had nothing to compare it with but it was heavenly. I discovered that I loved to look at her with my cock in her mouth, her eyes bright, her cheeks bulging.

"Look at me," I said.

She looked up at me with a look of love and lust in her eyes.

"I love to watch you do that," I said.

She grunted approvingly and continued to lick and suck my cock, lapping at the tip, teasing the top and then taking it fully inside.

"I'm going to cum," I said with a gasp.

She stopped momentarily and said, "Cum for me sweetie. Cum for me."

"In your mouth?"

"Oh yes," she said, "I want to taste you."

With a few more loving licks I came, perhaps better than anytime in my life.

Our affair continued for another month or so but Mrs. Sterling couldn't resist bragging about it to some of her friends. Soon some of the Deacons heard of it and it was suggested strongly that I resign my position. Due to the circumstances of my departure it was not likely that another church would take me on as their pastor but there was no shortage of churches seeking ministers on a part-time basis so my job as a circuit riding preacher began.

The job involved a lot of travel - obviously - and the pay consisted of half of the money which went into the offering plate. Some Sundays were diamonds and some were stones but I learned to live frugally and was usually housed by one of the church members in whatever town I happened to be in and, after one or two circuits, I was able to establish a routine, usually staying at the same place.

Thus there was wide variety in the places that I stayed, the churches that I served and the women that I also served and who served me. The techniques which I learned under the loving tutelage of Mrs. Sterling were worth their weight in gold or should I say sterling. Old, young, married, single, tall, short, skinny, fat, big, small, beautiful or plain I enjoyed them all. I had always been fascinated by women and I learned that each was unique, each had different skills and most were longing for the loving touch of a caring, considerate man. 

I soon discovered that most of them had rarely had an orgasm, even the married ones. Apparently their husbands were only interested in their own gratification and many used their wives merely as instruments for sexual satisfaction or machines to make babies. With one or two exceptions I was the first man to ever give them oral sex and among the first to see that they had an orgasm if, indeed, they were orgasmic and most women are if given the proper attention.

I discovered that making a woman cum was almost as pleasant for me as cumming myself and I took great pride and satisfaction in pleasing my partners. You may think me boastful but I believe that I did nothing more than any man could do if he would just apply himself diligently to the task. I also learned that a satisfied woman was always more than willing to satisfy me - the Golden Rule again as it were.

Through time my faith and beliefs began to dwindle. One could argue that if I had been less worldly that wouldn't have happened and I would have to agree but it happened nonetheless. I began to wonder about another line of employment. Something which would involve less travel and less hypocrisy. I also began to wish for just one woman who could satisfy my needs both sexually and intellectually. I came to realize that, distilled to the essence, all orgasms are pretty much the same and that the sexual part of a relationship is, or should be, only a small albeit important part of it. In short I guess I wanted to change some aspects of my life and settle down.

And then I met Laura. I was riding from one circuit stop to the next. Another lonely ride on another dusty road. It was autumn, my favorite season. Others may find that season depressing but I loved the change in the weather, the trees changing colors although Kansas is not noted for it's foliage. The hint of winter was in the air and the prospect of cold rides across the prairie was not enchanting. As I neared a small town my old horse threw a shoe, forcing me to dismount and walk her into town. I found a blacksmith and was told that I would have to wait for an hour or so for the horseshoe to be replaced.

It was a warm, Indian-summer day so I walked to a nearby park, a pleasant place with trees and benches and picnic tables right in the center of town. It was a weekday and few people were there. As I strolled I noticed a woman sitting on a bench reading a book. She appeared to be about my age. She was small and attractive with an intelligent glint in her eye and I decided to try to engage her in some conversation. 

I sat down on a bench across the path from her. She looked up at me and smiled and then went back to her book.

"What are you reading?"

She looked up and said, "The Brain and the Bible."

"By Robert Ingersoll," I said.

"You've read it?"

"I have."

"What's your review?"

"It's very interesting," I said, "Mr. Ingersoll is an interesting man."

"Are you a free thinker?"

I laughed and said, "Actually I'm a Presbyterian minister."

"And you read Robert Ingersoll?"

"I like to know what the other side is thinking."

"How very interesting," she said.

"What do you do?" I asked.

"I edit the local newspaper," she said, "actually I own it. I inherited it from my late father."

"You own and edit the Gazette?"

"You're familiar with it?"

"Indeed but I had no idea it was owned and edited by a woman."

"I hesitate to ask you what you think of it," she said.

"I think it's an excellent publication with much more than just the goings-on of the local ladies sewing circle. I don't read it every week but as I recall some of the editorials were very insightful. Did you write them?"

"I did and thank you for the compliment," she said.

"You're most welcome."

She smiled and then she said, "Tell me how a Presbyterian minister comes to be reading Robert Ingersoll."

"Well, as I told you, I'm interested in how the world works and what people think and, truth be told, under my preacher's hat there may be a free-thinkers brain."

"That must be interesting and sometimes troubling," she said.

"It's both," I said "but that's how life is, isn't it?"

"indeed," she said, "but isn't it hard to be a man of the cloth and a free thinker?"


The Circuit Rider



"Hard scarcely describes it. In fact I've been thinking of leaving the ministry."

"What would you like to do?"

"I think I'd like to write. I enjoy the process, I write all of my sermons."

"I'd like to read some of them," she said.

"I have some of them with me, actually they're in my saddle bag which is now at the blacksmith's," I said.

"If you don't mind we could walk over there, it's on the way to the newspaper office," she said.

"Well, let's go."

We walked to the blacksmith's and talked and told each other a bit about our lives.

"By the way," she said, "my name is Laura Parker. What's yours?"

"Jeremiah Jones but my friends call me Jerry."

"Jeremiah. That's a fine biblical name," she said.

I laughed and said, "My mother loved to read the Bible and she loved alliterative names. My brothers are Joshua, Josiah and Joseph. I'm the baby of the family."

"I'm an only child."

When we got to the blacksmith's he was working on my horse and said he'd be done shortly. I took some sermons from my saddlebag and handed them to Laura.

"If you have a few minutes why don't you walk with me to my office and I'll read some of your sermons, that is if you have the time."

"I have all the time in the world for a charming lady like you," I said.

She laughed and said, "Well I can see that you have a way with words, Reverend Jones."

"Time will tell. And call me Jerry."

We walked to the newspaper office and while she read my sermons I browsed around, occasionally glancing at her to try and gauge her reactions. When she had finished reading she looked at me and said, "You wrote all of this?"

"Except for the passages from scripture and who knows who wrote most of them," I said with a chuckle.

She said, "You obviously have a gift for writing. Writing a sermon isn't the same thing as the things we write here at the newspaper but good writing is good writing. You can also spell and punctuate tolerably well and that's a plus."

"Thank you," I said, "I've always suspected that I was a decent writer but whether someone would pay me to write is something else."

She paused for a moment and then said, "I would pay you to write."

"Are you offering me a job?"

"Yes," she said, "except for the pressman who only works part-time and a bookkeeper, also part-time, this is pretty much a one-man, make that a one-woman band and it's getting to be a bit much. I work pretty much dawn to dusk every day. My reading sojourn today in the park was not an everyday occurrence."

"What exactly would be my duties?"

""Reporting some of the news, obviously and maybe an occasional editorial. We'll see how your writing progresses before we decide about that. I would also like you to sell some advertising. Have you ever sold anything?"

I laughed and said, "Laura all ministers are essentially salesmen. Instead of selling a product we're selling an idea."

"I get your point," she said, "and you would also lay out some of the ads you sold."

"I'm not an artist."

"Not necessary, You can obviously structure a sermon and laying out an ad is much the same process only sometimes with illustrations."

"How much money are we talking about."

"You'd be paid a weekly wage for your writing and a commission on all the ads you sell. You won't get rich but you'll make a living wage and you'll learn a new trade."

We discussed the details and sealed the bargain with a handshake. It was the first time I had touched her and she felt fine.

"How soon can you start?"

"As soon as I send a telegram to the synod and tell them that I won't be in Lebo this Sunday."

"Good," she said, "the telegraph office is at the railroad depot. It's not far from here. I'll show you the way and then we can see about getting you a place to live."

We walked to the railroad station and as we walked she told me more about herself and about the town. It had been settled by German immigrants who had named it after the famous German explorer Count von Humboldt, hence the name Humboldt. It was one of many Humboldts across the country, she explained, all settled about the same time in the mid 1850s. The principal industry was a huge rock quarry just south of town. Aside from the quarry the main occupation was farming. 

As we walked we passed the Presbyterian Church and she said, "You might earn extra money by preaching occasionally here or at the Methodist Church just down the street. I know both ministers very well and I'd be more than happy to put in a good word for you."

"Thanks for the offer," I said, "but I've decided to close the door on that chapter of my life completely. I am now a full-time newspaper man."

"That's the spirit," she said.

"And I'm pleased to be walking through my new home with a very charming full-time newspaper woman."

She laughed but said nothing.

After I wired the synod we walked back toward the main part of town. 

"There's one hotel here," she said "and it's pretty good but I might suggest Mrs. Jensen's Boarding House. She provides breakfast and dinner along with a room and she's a pretty good cook. She makes heavenly swedish meat balls and noodles, or so I've been told. For a little bit more she'll pack you a lunch. Some of her boarders work at the quarry where they have to take a lunch. Most days I just eat lunch at my desk and some company would be nice."

I told her that sounded delightful and we stopped at the boarding house. She introduced me to Mrs. Jensen and told me she'd walk back to her office by herself while I conducted my business with Mrs. Jensen and got settled in. 

Mrs. Jensen was a handsome older woman with a pleasant face and an ample figure attributable no doubt to her good cooking. She had two vacant rooms for me to choose from. She recommended a corner room on the second floor explaining that a corner room would give me some cross ventilation which would be desirable if I were still living there when the hot days of a Kansas summer arrived. It was small but cozy and very neat with a single twin bed, night stand, wardrobe and dresser.

"We have very few rules here, Mr. Jones," she said. "No guests of the opposite sex are allowed in the bedrooms although you can entertain guests in the sitting room downstairs. No smoking inside the house. You can smoke if you want to on the porch. I do allow moderate use of alcohol although I won't abide drunkenness. I, myself, enjoy a glass of schnapps now and then. Breakfast is at seven a.m. and dinner is at six p.m. and if you're late I can't guarantee that there'll be any food. If you snooze you lose," she said with a laugh, "although not many are late for my meals."

I walked to the blacksmiths, collected my horse and brought my things back to the boarding house. It had a small barn in the back for the horses and there was a small additional fee for boarding animals. It didn't take long to unpack and put away my meager possessions. There was a place for everything and after everything was in it's place I stretched out on the small but comfortable bed and thought about my future. I was embarking on a new phase of my life with a new home and a new career and, I hoped, a delightful instructor.

After a few moments of quiet revery I got up and walked to the newspaper office. I walked in the door and Laura looked up from her typewriter and smiled at me. "Jeremiah Jones, boy reporter, reporting for duty," I said.

She laughed and said, "I know the boy part isn't true and we'll see about the reporting."

"You'll find me to be an avid learner," I said.

"I certainly hope so."

I quickly adapted to my new routine. Most of the reporting was pretty mundane. Church news, local gossip, wedding announcements and wedding stories, an occasional obituary, very little crime. I discovered that I enjoyed the sales aspect of the job and soon got the knack of laying out the simple advertisements that I sold. The office had two of the new Remington typewriters and I soon mastered the art of typing. The actual type for printing was set by hand, letter by letter but Laura was considering the purchase of one of the new linotype typecasting machines which had recently been invented by Ottmar Mergenthaler. For a small newspaper we were well equipped as was our delightful editor.

Laura, herself, was a treasure and still somewhat of a mystery to me. I certainly found her attractive and she seemed to feel the same about me but she was, after all, my boss and I was so pleased with my new occupation that I hesitated to do anything to jeopardize our relationship.

The highlight of my days were the lunches we shared in the newpaper office. I soon learned that she was a very intelligent woman, extremely well-read with an inquisitive, inquiring mind. We had long animated discussions about politics, current affairs and religion. We shared a common interest in history and the arts although small-town Kansas offered little in the latter. The occasional traveling show on the Chautauqua circuit would come to town and admission to these was always free for the members of the press. One of the highlights was a lecture by Mr. Ingersoll which sparked many hours of animated conversation.

Soon enough winter came to the prairie with the inevitable snow and blustery wind. One frosty night I walked her to her house. We slipped and slid along the icy road and as soon as we were inside she buillt a large fire in her fireplace. I had been inside her house a few times, strictly on business and except for an occasional glance and lingering touch of hands our relationship had been strictly business. 

She told me that she had been engaged to marry a young man she had gone to high school with but he had been killed in a farming accident before they could marry. I didn't know if she had had any experience with men and I discretely failed to mention my previous liaisons. For all I knew she was a virgin and I felt like one whenever I was in her presence. I decided not to force the issue but rather to let things take their natural course, all the while hoping that we would eventually become lovers if not more.

We sat side by side on a settee in front of the fireplace, enjoying the welcome warmth.

"The fire feels good," I said.

"That is so," she said, "and a little brandy would also be warming, don't you think?"

I agreed and she went to the kitchen and quickly returned with a snifter of brandy and two glasses. She poured us each a glass and before we drank I proposed a toast. "Let's drink to my new life, my new job and my lovely teacher and employer," I said.

She smiled, touched her glass to mine and said, "I'll drink to that but not too much. I don't want to get tipsy."

I smiled and said, "And what might happen if you got too tipsy?"

She laughed and stared deeply into my eyes but didn't comment. We sipped our brandy and stretched our toes toward the fire. "Perhaps we should take off our shoes," she said. "I don't want the melting snow to make a mess on my carpet."

We took off our shoes and she took them and put them by the door. She was wearing silk stockings and a looked at her sweet, petite and perfectly formed feet. "You have lovely feet," I said.

"Thank you," she said, "I've never had a gentleman comment on my feet before. Most men are more interested in other parts of a woman's anatomy."

"Don't suppose for a moment that I have any kind of a foot fetish," I said "but the fact is that you do have lovely feet and the rest of you is not bad either."

She chuckled and I held one of her hands in mine and gently stroked it. "You also have lovely hands, " I said, "I love to watch you type."

"I've noticed you looking at me when I write," she said, "which probably accounts for my occasional typographical error."

"I love to look at you, Laura. I am, frankly, in awe of you."

"Oh my," she said, "you do have a way with words."

"Probably my Irish heritage," I said.

"Have you ever kissed the Blarney Stone?"

"No. Unfortunately I've never been to the old sod although I've longed to go there."

"Someday, perhaps, we could go together," she said.

"That sounds delightful and beyond my wildest dreams."

She smiled and then she said, "And you've never kissed me."

"Not for lack of wanting to," I said with a catch in my throat.

She turned to me and said, "I'm glad to hear you say that. I've wanted to kiss you almost from the moment that we met."

"Well," I said, "how about this moment. We're both grown-ups , well past the age of consent."

She smiled and brought her face to mine. Our first kiss was light and chaste and delicious. I put my hand behind her head and brought my mouth more forcefully on hers, running my tongue lightly upon her lips. She took it into her mouth and then pulled back and said, "Oh, Jeremiah, where in the world did you learn to kiss like that?"

"Pure instinct," I said, "compelled no doubt by a wonderful kissee, if there is such a word."

"If there isn't such a word there should be," she replied.

I kissed her again even more deeply and our tongues tangoed together. I pulled back from her and said, "Laura if we do much more of this I fear that we'll go past kissing. At least I know that I'll want to."

"What if I said that I want you to."

"Your wish would be my command."

"Then that's what I wish," she said with a slight blush on her small lovely face.

I looked deeply into her blue eyes and said, "May I touch your breasts?"

She replied by taking on my hands in hers and putting it on her left breast. I touched it lightly and then more firmly and she sighed and said, "It's been so long, so very long since I've felt a man's hand upon my breast."

"I'm honored to be so entitled and delighted to hear you say that," I said.

She sighed and kissed me and then she said, "You're lips feel so good on my mouth. I long to feel them on my breasts."

I pulled back from her and touched the buttons on the front of her dress and said, "If I may be so bold."

"You may."

Never taking my eyes off of her and working by feel alone I slowly unbuttoned her dress until I had it unbuttoned to her waistline. It fell open, revealing a white silk chemise and underneath that the points of two firm nipples. I took my hands away from her buttons and started to move them toward her nipples but she took my hands and put them back on her buttons.

"Your job is only halfway done," she said.

I sighed and smiled and unbuttoned the rest of her buttons. She stood up, removed the dress and folded it carefully on a nearby chair. She moved to me and said, "Let's get you out of some of those clothes while we're at it. "

I removed my coat, vest, shirt and trousers and stood before her in my long underwear. It wasn't stylish but it was the middle of winter in the middle of America. I smiled and said, "My undergarments are not nearly as fancy as yours."

She laughed and said, "Let's see what's under these undergarments and than we'll discuss fancy."

She quickly pulled he chemise over her head while I fumbled with the buttons on my long johns. I took it off with fumbling fingers and sat down to pull it off my legs. She sat down beside me and removed her silk stockings and than stood up to remove her pantaloons. I reached out my hands and said, "Please let me help you."

She smiled and nodded and I took my hands and pulled down her pantaloons. She stepped out of them and stood before me gloriously naked. Her body was bathed in the glow of the firelight. Her breasts were small but firm without a hint of sag. Her mound was covered with a thick thatch of dark brown hair. There was the look of love in her piercing blue eyes.

"Awesome," I said, "simply awesome."

She smiled and looked me up and down. "You are handsome to behold Jeremiah. It's been quite some time since I've gazed at a naked man."

"Than I am not your first?"

"No, but the first in a long, long time. I am not a virgin but neither am I very experienced. Are you a virgin?"

"No."

"I thought not. You seem so comfortable around women that I sensed you had done some navigating of the territory."

I laughed and said, "I may seem comfortable but right now I'm as nervous and skittish as a hog on ice."

"How sweet," she said. She moved her gaze to my erect cock and said, "My, my, I think I'm going to have a good time with that."

"Miss Parker, whatever in the world are you proposing?"

She knelt on her knees in front of me and said "I think we need to get to know each other a bit better before we start proposing. And speaking of knowing each other better," she reached out a hand and touched my cock. "Play with me, Jeremiah. Do you feel like playing?"

"Certainly,' I said, "what are the rules?"

"We'll make them up as we go along."

She began to slowly stroke my shaft and I reached down with both hands and began to tweak and knead her nipples. I leaned forward and gave her a kiss, burrowing my tongue deep into her mouth. 

"Pinch my nipples," she said, "but not too hard."

"Play with my balls," I said, "but not too hard."

"Speaking of hard," she said, "little Jeremiah feels very hard and very good."

"You have certainly got his attention," I said.

"I love him," she said. "Why don't you touch little Laura."

I moved one hand from a breast down to her pussy and started to explore. My finger worked through her bush down to a deliciously warm and wet channel and I began to stroke her lovingly while she fondled and cuddled my balls.

"This is good," she said.

"This is great," I replied.

"Fantastic," she said.

"Stupendous," said I.

She laughed and said, "we may run out of adjectives."

"Don't forget awesome, earth-shattering and cataclysmic," i said.

"Ever the word smith aren't you, Jeremiah."

"Well you certainly inspire me," I said.

"I'm ever so glad," she said, "Now I want you to make love to me. Let's go to my bed."

She stood up and led me into her bedroom. She stopped just along enough to light a candle, pull back the coverlet and stretch out on her bed. In the glow of the candlelight she was beautiful.

"Awesome," I said.

She laughed and said, "Don't forget earth-shattering and cataclysmic."

I laughed and said "That will come soon enough but not too soon, I hope."

"Don't worry about that," she said. "We'll save that for another time. I trust there will be another time."

"Oh yes, another and another and another and another."

"You're getting repetitious," she said, "but I like the thought and the prospect. Now come over here and make love to me."

She spread her legs and I got on my knees between them. I stroked her pussy and said, "Laura you are so sweet and wet."

"Thanks to you," she said.

"it's not necessary," I said, "but I'd like to get you even wetter."

"Why Mr. Jones," she said, "whatever are you proposing?"

"This," I replied, "with your permission," and I leaned forward and put my mouth on her pussy.

"Oh God, permission granted," she said with a husky voice.

I nuzzled my face through her pubic hair, inhaling her wonderful womanly smell and than lapped my tongue up her tunnel of love. I parted her labia and moved my face to and fro, coating my nose, mouth and mustache with her essence. I stopped long enough to say, "For what it's worth I'm doing this as much for my pleasure as for yours."

She sighed deeply and said, "I love a man who enjoys his work."

"Consider it a labor of love."

"Aptly put."

I put a finger deep inside her and moved my lips and tongue to her clitoris.

"That feels awesome," she said.

I laughed and said, "You left out earth-shattering and cataclysmic."

"Well it's certainly orgasmic which is what I'm going to do right away if you don't stop."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Not on your life," she said.

"Good," I said and returned to my oral ministrations. Soon she began to buck and quiver, gasp and moan and, finally, squeezing my face between her legs she came. I stopped and looked up at her. "Was that good?"




The Circuit Rider



She laughed throatily and said, "Earth-shattering and cataclysmic."

"I dearly love a literate woman."

"And this literate woman dearly loves what you do to her."

"Now it's my turn," I said and, moving up to her I pressed my hard cock against her entrance. "May I come in?"

"You may. Oh yes, you may."

"Thank you," I said, "show me the way."

She reached down and inserted the head of my cock part way inside of her and said, "Come inside. Please."

"Well, since you ask so nicely," I said and thrust as deep inside her as I could.

She groaned and said, "A perfect fit."

"A perfect fuck," I said, "if I may use that old tried and true Anglo-Saxon expression."

"You may but not in my newspaper."

That struck me as funny but I was much too involved in what I was doing to laugh or comment on it. instead I plunged in and out of her, reveling at the tightness of her tunnel and propelled by her hands pulling on my ass. She opened her mouth as if to speak and I buried my tongue inside it. She sucked my tongue fervently even as her vagina did the same to my throbbing cock.

"Oh, baby, I'm going to come," I gasped.

"Come for me, come for me, come into me," she said and I did. We rested for a moment and than we said, in unison, "Awesome, earth-shattering and cataclysmic."