Date: Mon, 20 Jun 2022 12:58:33 +0000 From: svetaadams Subject: "The Preacher's Wife" Part 1 Summary: A troubled high school freshman, Claire, goes to her pastor for much-needed advice. Greeted by someone wholly unexpected, Claire receives guidance she could only have imagined. The Pastor's Wife by Sveta Adams Claire chewed her lip as she parked her bike at the back of the church building. She hadn't intended to come here. She'd been biking aimlessly around her neighborhood on the autumn Saturday with her usual thoughts racing in their usual patterns when she'd spied Pastor Bennett's lone car in the parking lot of Calvary Bible Church. It wasn't an unusual sight. The pastor was often alone at the church, preparing sermons for the next Sunday. He was a kind man with a bright smile and ready words of encouragement for all his parishioners. Every Sunday it seemed that the church would empty only as quickly as he could meet with and speak to every congregant that he could. Claire liked how the man didn't talk down to the youth of his small church. He treated them the same as their parents, asking often after their spiritual health and providing advice of all sorts. And it was that advice that Claire realized she so desperately needed. She was tired of feeling so guilty and conflicted. Of feeling every day like she was less and less the woman God wanted her to be. Feeling like a sinner with hopelessly adrift with no path back to Christ. It'd gotten so much worse now that she'd started high school. She'd been transformed from a student at the top of the middle school totem pole to a lowly freshman, staring down four bleak years surrounded by maturity and engulfed by temptation. So much temptation. When she was encompassed by kids largely younger than her, she could mostly ignore her impulses. But now she was fenced in by her impulses. Drowning in them. Claire knew that God wanted her to stay pure. She'd heard her brothers and sisters talk before about how everyone was beset by temptation to lust. A desire to act on impulses that belonged in the marriage bed with their future spouses. But it wasn't future husbands that Claire was lusting after. It was future husbands' wives. Claire couldn't stop thinking about girls. The cheerleaders in their tight tops and pigtails. Her language arts teacher, Ms Canning, poured into her pencil skirts and obliterating any chance of Claire focusing on her classwork. Literally everyone around her in the girls' locker room. After gym class, Claire did her best to get out of that den of iniquity as quickly as she as able. She was terrified that someone in there would catch her staring at them. Because if she didn't police herself, staring she most definitely would be. Claire needed help badly. Terrified though she was of telling the pastor about her sickness, she hoped he'd forgive her. More than that, she hoped he'd tell her how to stop it. Or at least tell her how to become normal and start lusting after the boys instead. She padded down the worn carpet toward the church offices. Golden afternoon sunlight splashed across the hallway, gently shifting as it filtered through the slowly swaying trees outside. She paused as she came upon the closed door of Pastor Bennett's office. She considered turning back but the thought of spending another day all alone facing up the monster inside bid her to move forward. She steeled herself and knocked lightly on the door. "Pastor Bennett?" she called out, twisting the knob and poking her head in. Claire went pale as she looked over the room. It wasn't Pastor Bennett sat at the wide desk at the back of the office. It was the worst person imaginable: his wife. The gorgeous queen of Calvary, Sarah Bennett. Claire should have run. Gotten out of the church with her life and forgotten about ever telling anyone her dark secret. But it was too late. The stunning raven-haired beauty had caught sight of Claire wide-eyed and unmoving in the doorway, her mouth slightly agape. The woman beamed at the sight of the girl. "Claire!" she exclaimed in her soft, slightly husky voice. "What are you doing here?" Claire was staring like she did when she wasn't being careful. Out of all the pretty women that filed into and out of Calvary every Sunday, the pastor's wife was the one that Claire thought about the most. Whereas Donald Bennett was humble and approachable, his wife was classy and cultured. She didn't look like a pastor's wife. She was tall, thin, and always dressed in fashionable clothes: tight blouses, svelte skirts, and breezy summer dresses. Her feet shod in tasteful heels and her ample bust never seemingly contained beneath her tops, she looked to Claire more like a model or a starlet. Engaging as Pastor Bennett's sermons were, his wife was half the reason Claire went to church so religiously, even if she couldn't admit such blasphemy to herself. "Claire?" the woman repeated, concern tinging her voice. "Are you okay?" She made her way out from behind the desk and advanced on the girl rooted in the doorway. If Claire had wanted to escape, she'd now lost her chance. She was frozen stiff, staring into the queen's captivating blue eyes. "My goodness," said the woman, concern redoubled. "You look like you've seen a ghost!" Claire nearly jumped as the woman grasped her shoulder and guided her into the room. "I'm sor--" began the girl, her mind racing to find a polite way out of the situation. "Let's get you some water," Sarah cut her off and gently guided her to the worn leather couch that Pastor Bennett provided his visitors. The knockout crossed the room and Claire blanched as she bent to pluck a bottle of water from the mini fridge at the far end of the office. The skirt she was wearing was shorter than the ones she typically wore for Sunday service. "There we go. Have a drink and take a breath, sweetie," said the woman, gracefully taking a place next to Claire on the sofa. Claire obliged, though neither the breath nor the drink seemed to do her much good. She felt heat rising in her body. Did people usually sit so close to each other on couches? "What can I help you with?" asked the woman. "You looked troubled." "I, um, came to see Pastor Bennett," stated Claire meekly. "I'm so sorry. He's gone to Northridge to see a friend of ours," explained Sarah. "But I'd be happy to help you." "Oh. Uh. That's fine, Mrs Bennett--" "Call me Sarah," stated the woman warmly. "I can come back tomor--" "Nonsense!" cheerily exclaimed the woman. "I'd love to help you! Besides," she continued with a knowing twinkle in her eye, "you'd be surprised how many women of the church prefer to confide in another woman." Surely she couldn't do that, the girl told herself. With the things Claire had imagined doing to Sarah Bennett and more so the things she imagined the gorgeous woman doing to her, it would be insanity to confess her sickness. "I would very much like to help you, Claire." The girl's knees went to jelly. Even in the face of all the embarrassing fantasies, there was something terribly alluring in the woman's gaze. Something that compelled her to tell the truth. Something that told her she even might find understanding there. Claire felt detached from herself, almost as if it wasn't even herself speaking anymore. "I'm, um, having trouble at school," Claire started haltingly. Maybe she could tell Sarah without actually telling her. Something about the woman demanded she speak, but maybe Claire didn't have to say _everything_. "I'm so sorry to hear that," cooed the woman. "You're at a tumultuous age. Full of all sorts of feeling and conflict. You shouldn't feel so badly about it." Yes, she _should_. "No. It's awful," Claire quipped reflexively, chastising herself immediately for being so forward. "Now, now," Sarah comforted. "I'm sure it's nothing so serio--" "God hates me!" exclaimed Claire. She blushed as a beat of silence engulfed the room. The beauty had a look of astonishment across her face. "Claire," she said seriously. "That is simply not true. God loves everyone. His children most of all!" Tears began to well up in Claire's eyes. The woman didn't know. She didn't know about her disgusting impulses. Her sick fantasies. "No," cried the girl, shaking her head. "There's something wrong with me." So worked up was Claire that she didn't really process her instincts as the gorgeous Sarah Bennett wrapped her in a tight hug. "Claire, there's nothing wrong with you," she insisted, rocking the girl gently. Claire gave in to the comfort and buried her head in the woman's shoulder. "What could make you think something so awful?" Sobs worked their way free as all pretense of Claire holding herself back dissolved. "I keep thinking terrible things!" "No, no, sweetie," Sarah comforted. "You're a wonderful girl. What are you thinking that would make you feel this badly?" "It's sick!" exclaimed the girl. "I'm sure its not. Please tell me, sweetie," Sarah entreated in a way that made Claire feel even more guilty simply for keeping the concerned woman in the dark. "I-- I--" Claire felt stuck. As if the confession was just too big to make its way out of her mouth. "I can't stop thinking about other girls!" Claire's stomach dropped as her evil secret left her at last. She cringed back to give Sarah the space to retreat off the couch and get away from her. But the woman didn't move. She didn't even take her hands off Claire. "And?" The prompt hung heavy in the air. Claire's head spun in circles. What "and"? Hadn't the woman heard her? "And!?" exclaimed the girl, eyes wet with tears regarding the pastor's wife with incredulity. "And its sick! It's wrong!" The warmth Claire saw in the woman was bizarre and so completely unexpected. "Claire," Sarah began deliberately, "what you're feeling isn't anything wrong or sick." The girl was incredulous. "Homosexuality is sin," she stated flatly. Everyone good Christian knew that. "It's not," stated Sarah flatly. "I know some people say that, but they're wrong." "What?" was all Claire could manage. The beautiful woman bit her lip in brief deliberation. "People get scared when they come across something they don't understand," she began, "so they tell themselves that it's wrong or it's evil. That it's unnatural. Then they start telling each other that. And soon everyone feels better about themselves because they don't _have_ to understand it anymore. They never stop to ask themselves if all they're really doing is avoiding difficult questions." Claire sniffled. "But the Bible says it's wrong." Surely a pastor's wife would know that. "Where?" asked Sarah seriously. "Outside of the Old Testament, the law which Jesus delivered us from, where does it say that?" Claire blanked. She'd memorized a lot of scripture, but she couldn't actually pinpoint a passage. "It's in there..." Claire said uncertainly, "Isn't it?" The pastor's wife shook her head with a knowing smile. "It isn't." Claire hadn't actually checked. She'd been too consumed in her shame to think to. "God made us all who were are. He loves us. And who we love -- who we're attracted to -- is all a part of who he wants us to be and what he has planned for us." Claire's head started swimming. So much of what she'd been feeling was crumbling beneath her feet. She felt simultaneously free and adrift. What did all this mean for her? "But I'm always thinking about other girls... Thinking about--" she paused, still mired in guilt, "their bodies." "God wants us to be attracted to each other," said the pastor's wife, her smile apparent in her voice. "It's more than natural for a growing girl to be thinking about bodies a lot." The woman reached out and turned Claire's chin so she could see her seriousness. "A lot," she emphasized. The girl looked away again and shivered slightly at the touch. That was all abstract. Time for the other shoe to drop. Time for Sarah to actually understand. "What about women?" she asked. "What about them?" "I think about older women's bodies too." Tears again. Claire squinted her eyes shut. "I think-- I think about you." A beat passed in silence. "What do you think about me?" asked the pastor's wife bluntly. The woman's tone made Claire's eyes slowly go wide. The energy in the room lurched wildly and all of a sudden, she could no longer ignore Sarah Bennett's arm across her shoulders. The girl slowly looked to see the gorgeous woman's eyes twinkling back at her. "What _do_ you think about me, Claire?" Claire leapt up off the sofa. "Whoa," she said, backing away from Sarah Bennett as if she were a dangerous animal. "What?" asked the woman, her voice holding every pretense of innocence. "I--" Claire started a sentence she soon realized she had no idea how to finish. Sarah straightened her skirt and stood up. The look on her face and the way she moved made her seem now entirely unlike a preacher's wife. All that poise and class seemed to rush back into her beautiful frame. It made Claire begin to feel very small and very strange under the woman's gaze. "Call me curious," the woman began, a hint of playfulness creeping into her voice. "But I'd like to know what you think about when you look at me." Claire didn't -- couldn't -- answer. She shivered again as Sarah grasped her wrist and firmly guided her back to her seat. The woman didn't sit with her. "Look at me, Claire," it was a command even if it didn't sound like one. Claire obeyed. "Don't think," said the beauty, "Just tell we what comes into your head when you see me." "I--" Claire was frozen again. This was _far_ beyond any confession she'd ever imagined herself giving. "Mrs Bennett--" "Sarah," interjected the woman easily. "I-- I don't think you want to--" "Don't I?" interrupted the woman. Claire couldn't help but stare into Sarah Bennett's eyes. The girl felt like the deep blue pools were swallowing her up. Like a trap. "Tell me, Claire," she said, putting her hands on her slender hips and shifting her weight into a coquettish stance. "What do you think about when you see me?" Claire unconsciously licked her lips ever so lightly. "Do you think about my legs?" Sarah reached down and ran a hand up her thigh, fingers catching on the hem of her skirt and dragging it up just barely. "Do you think about by chest?" she continued, raising her hands to her shoulders and pressing in with her elbows until it seemed her bust was only barely contained by her white cotton blouse. Claire remained in stunned silence, unable to look away as the raven-haired vision stalked slowly forward until she stood directly before her, staring down from on high. She reached down, grasped the girl's chin, and planted a thumb on Claire's bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. "Do you think about my lips, Claire?" Sarah crouched until they were level, her face just inches away from Claire's. "Do you think about kissing them?" she asked with a deliriously husky whisper. "I--" was all Claire could say as Sarah closed in. "Do you think about kissing me?" repeated the seductress. Claire felt electricity jolt through her as their lips met. "Mmm," moaned Sarah slowly, her hot breath washing down the girl's face. Claire had never kissed anyone before. As much as she could feel anything in her stunned state, she felt clumsy as the gorgeous woman closed her lips around Claire's, the tiniest bit of suction emitting a soft smack into the otherwise-silent church office. A shaky gasp escaped the girl's mouth as brand new parts of her body stirred. Hands clutched between her thighs, Claire's shivers didn't stop this time. A hint of concern flicked over Sarah's face. "Did I frighten you?" she asked in a whisper. Breath still quivering, Claire answered immediately and truthfully, "No." The girl felt the beautiful woman touch her knees and then slide up her legs until they grasped Claire's own hands. "Was that your first kiss?" Claire began to curl up, suddenly very self-conscious that this woman of the world might be judging her performance. Ready tears threatened to well up again. "Do you want to leave, Claire?" As dangerous a place as she felt she was in, Claire knew she didn't want that. She desperately didn't want that. "No!" she gasped softly. Beaming smile now bolstered, the queen of Calvary pivoted on her heels and lay on the far end of the couch, reclined against the high arm rest. Skirt hiked up in a way that made Claire's head swim even more, she patted the cushion between her legs. "Come here," came the next command. Claire couldn't imagine herself doing anything else. She obliged, not sure of how much to lean into the woman until Sarah reached out, gently grasped her shoulders, and pulled Claire to her breast. The girl felt like she might shake out of her skin. "There, there," Sarah shushed the girl, planting one hand tenderly across Claire's temple, slender fingers stroking through her dirty blonde hair. Her other arm wrapped around Claire's torso tightly. The woman's body heat soaked through the girl, emanating waves of slow calm. "Deep breaths," instructed the woman. "Like this." Ear against cotton blouse, Claire could intimately hear Sarah's breath flow into her lungs. She followed suit. "Good," Sarah commended. "That's very good." Claire felt she could live on nothing but the praise of the woman who held her. The two lay there for several minutes, speechless. Claire felt she had no need to talk. The feeling of being cossetted in Sarah's embrace, the sensation of the woman's hand slowly running through her hair, was all she needed. When it seemed like Claire had recovered some sense of composure, Sarah Bennett spoke. "As far as first kisses go, that went pretty well." Claire would take the woman's word for it. Playfulness again creeping into her voice, Sarah remarked, "You never did tell me what runs through your pretty little head when you're staring at me from across the chapel." Claire cringed. "You-- you noticed that?" "I'm perceptive." The girl could hear Sarah's wry smile. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm flattered that you find me attractive. I certainly enjoy it more than the slack-jawed gazes of all the horny boys." Claire was still stunned that the seemingly chaste pastor's wife knowingly provoked such thoughts. "I-- I look at your face," Claire admitted. "Your lips. Your eyes." She felt Sarah wriggle slightly and tighten her grasp. "And the rest of me?" she asked, an uncharacteristic hint of vulnerability creeping into her voice. "I try not to think about that in church," Claire remarked, embarrassed. "What about when you're not in church?" pressed the woman. "Do you think about me when you're alone? By yourself?" Of course she did. But Claire felt a subtext to the query of which she didn't grasp the significance. "Wh-- What do you mean?" Sarah's hand drifted down from her head to her side, gently gripping under her arm and stroking down her side. Her voice went into a lower whisper. "What about at night? When you're alone in your bed and nobody's watching?" Claire felt Sarah's head dip down until her lips were nearly pressed against her earlobe. "Do you touch yourself thinking about me?" Claire supposed she shouldn't be shocked to hear Sarah talk about things like that. Apparently there were quite a few things which Claire had thought were forbidden that the preacher's wife seemed obsessed with. "I thought..." Claire trailed off. That taboo was strong. "You mustn't be afraid of your own body, Claire," purred the woman. "It's God's greatest gift to us." Then, tentatively, "Do you want me to show you?" Propriety screamed at the girl to rebuff the seductress. "Yes," answered the girl almost immediately. Sarah grasped Claire under her armpits and straightened them both up until the woman's chin sat on Claire's shoulder. Sarah took Claire's hand in her own, first bringing it up to plant a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Then she guided the girl's hands to her torso, sliding them down from her collarbones to her breasts. "Loving yourself is the most natural thing you can do," whispered the woman, groping Claire's breasts with her own hands. "All you have to do..." Their entwined hands traveled lower until they met the button of Claire's jeans. "...is listen to it." Claire gasped slowly as their hands stroked down between her legs. The girl could feel the heat of her womanhood through the fabric. The thought that Sarah could feel it too send sparks radiating through her lower body. The woman slowly but deftly unbuttoned her jeans with her other hand. Claire could feel a wetness in her underwear. She wondered if she should be concerned, but Sarah's embrace banished all her concerns. "You're so beautiful, Claire," crooned the woman and their hands moved downward. "Your body deserves to know that." Claire inhaled sharply as their entwined fingers followed the crease in her underwear. She could feel her warm wetness through the fabric. Jolts of pleasure the likes of which Claire had never felt followed wherever the digits touched. Sarah guided their hands up again then down beneath the band of her panties. A moan involuntarily escaped her lips as the woman guided Claire's palm firmly over her labia. "There you go," purred the pastor's wife. "Just..." Their fingers slid into the girl's cleft and along her clitoris. "...listen." This time it was Sarah's turn to moan. The sound made Claire's nethers contract. "This is the center of your pleasure," whispered Sarah. "Other people might be interested in other parts of your body..." As their fingers flicked across the bud to stroke up the other side, Claire's legs jerked. "But this is where you should concentrate." Sarah tightened the grip of her other arm around her chest, grasping at Claire's breast all on her own. The woman increased the pace. The pair continued this way, ramping their sensual rhythm up and down. The pleasure inside Claire echoed and rebounded, building furiously. The girl's moans gathered volume and frequency as she approached a tipping point. "S-- Sarah..." she gasped. "Don't stop, Claire," replied the woman, herself breathless. "Not yet." "Oh, God!" groaned Claire as the sensations overflowed from her pelvis and her legs began to squirm of their own volition. "Not yet," moaned Sarah, increasing the pace even more. "Not until..." "OH... GOD!" exhorted the girl as a dam broke inside her and lightning bolts of pleasure exploded outward and overwhelmed her body. Sarah's legs wrapped around Claire's whilst the girl shook furiously. Sarah slowed the pace, finally pausing as the terrible sensitivity in the girl's nethers made her jerk with every tiny brush of their fingers. Claire's gasps and moans gave way to heavy breaths that Sarah seemed to be matching. The warmth in her body seemed to squeeze chuckles of happiness through her breaths. The girl pivoted her head and craned to regard Sarah's face. The beautiful woman beamed down at her with pride and affection. Claire pushed up and pursed her lips. Sarah pulled back with mischief in her eyes until the girl grunted in frustration. Then the woman swooped down to engulf the Claire's lips with her own. The enraptured girl felt the Sarah's tongue probing at her lips and opened herself to it. The pair moaned together as their tongues tangled and Sarah took a gentle fistful of dirty blonde hair in her grasp. She pulled the gasping girl back and planted kisses all over her face. Claire let her mouth hang open as the woman's lips and tongue landed on her cheek and jaw. After final slow suck of her lips, Sarah pulled her hands from Claire's body and stretched. The girl again felt meek and small nestled in the woman's lap. A small part of her mourned as the wonderful preacher's wife scooted her away. Sarah Bennett gracefully slinked off the couch, stretching again and then straightening her rumpled skirt. Implications slowly penetrated into Claire's addled mind, leaving her spinning in confusion once again. Mind absent, she took the woman's proffered hand and let herself be helped off the pastor's couch. She turned to regard Sarah's beatific visage. "I'm glad I could help you today," said the woman with pregnant formality. "We should meet again--" Claire's stomach churned as her heart leapt, "--so I can hopefully continue guiding you on your journey." A dozen questions and more coursed in Claire's mind as Sarah Bennett ushered her to the door of the pastor's office. The girl's mouth opened slightly as she turned to face Sarah in the doorway. "We'll speak tomorrow after service, shall we?" preempted Sarah with a twinkle in her eye. "Bye, now. Have fun." The woman didn't wait for the girl's response. As Claire stood, legs like putty and mouth agape, the queen of Calvary softly shut the door labeled "Pastor Donald Bennett" in her face.