And then they were done. He pulled out of the whore. Donna Paxtor moaned in delight, clearly satiated like I was. I stepped back from the window, pulling up my jeans and buttoning them. I stared at the juices on my fingers then bolted.
I had to think. Reflect.
And my reflection led me to my current position, kneeling on the floor of the deacon's office before Sunday Service, the door locked, and Deacon Bill Paxtor's slacks around his ankles, his boxers around his knees. His cock thrust at me, hard and angry.
Seducing the cuckold turned out to be quite easy...
He and his wife, Donna, always showed up early to help setup the church along with my family. While my father slipped into his office to ready for his sermon, and my mother and the whore were busy making sure all the printed off sermon guides were on the pews, I headed to seduce Deacon Bill, a coquettish smile on my face.
He was a handsome man, old, in his thirties, tall, handsome, with the roguish good-looks of a James Dean-well, not that roguish, but who is? I slipped into his office where he was going over church documents, a coquettish smile on my face, my hands behind my back as I swayed forward.
He looked up at me, a polite smile on my face as I locked the door behind me. I stood in my Sunday best, a white, sleeveless dress, belted at the waist, with a bell skirt falling down to my knees. I had my black Mary Janes on and white stockings vanished beneath my skirt. My smile turned seductive, hungry as I stopped before his small desk.
"Well, Miss Alexandra," he said, using the polite tone adults used with us young teenagers. "What a surprise? Do you need something?"
"I need guidance, Deacon Bill," I purred, my finger stroking his desk surface-smooth, polished wood. I leaned on it, my fingernails painted with clear lacquer, reflecting the light. Blonde hair fell off my shoulders before me. "It's... very personal."
"And not something you want to talk to your father about?"
I shook my head from side-to-side. "I saw something the other day. Something so very naughty and sinful and it has me feeling all ... flustered."
He swallowed. "I'm not sure I'm the person to talk to you about this. Maybe your mother?"
"Or your wife?" I asked, licking my lips.
His eyebrows furrowed. "And just what did you see?"
"A man and woman violating their marriage vows with each other. It was obscene. The woman was bent over the desk, almost like I am right now. She was naked, her butt wiggling while the man"-I lowered my voice into a conspiratorial whispered-"fucked her from behind."
"Alexandra Powell, such language for a young woman."
"I don't know how else to describe it," I moaned, leaning farther over, wiggling my hips. "But it made me think ... about things."
"Uh-huh. And who did you see?"
"My father."
He lifted an eyebrow. "The Reverend was committing adultery."
"Doesn't that make him just a hypocrite?" I asked, licking my lips. They were full, red, lush lips. Ricky, on the last night I went out with them, called them cock-sucking lips. He had the presumption to want me to blow him-a preacher's daughter.
Oh, if only I knew the truth, awakened to my body, I would have gladly done it. Adults pretended to talk about how sinful sex was, but they were all doing it. Cheating, fucking, enjoying themselves with carnal passion. It was so wrong for them to deny me. Ever since I watched Father and Donna, I had masturbated at every chance I could get. It was hot, exciting even.
"It ... does," Deacon Bill swallowed after a moment. "And you're sure?"
I nodded.
"And with a married woman?" His eyes raised. "A member of the congregation."
I nodded again.
"Who?"
"That really doesn't matter," I moaned, sensing if I revealed it was his wife it would only distract him from my purpose here. "But it is so sinful of him. So hypocritical. He's always preaching about sexual immorality. Always condemning those who fornicate." I licked my lips. "And I so want to fornicate."
His eyes widened. He glanced at the door again. "What are you saying, Alexandra?"
"That I'm flustered. And ... I was hoping you could help me out. It's so wrong that he gets to have his fun. I want to have fun. Seeing him ... educated me." I reached over his desk, touching his dark-blue tie. "Won't you help me out?"
"I'm married," he groaned.
"So?" I asked, my fingers sliding lower down his tie. It was silk and felt wonderful.
"You're the preacher's daughter."
"And?"
"I'm married."
"Didn't stop my father." My hand reached the bottom of his tie. I caressed his stomach through his white dress shirt before I moved lower to his dark-blue slacks. I craned my neck, glimpsing his bulge. "Why should it stop you?"
His chair creaked as he shifted.
"You're a child."
"I'm eighteen " I purred, my fingers moving down. My pussy gave a sinful shiver as I stroked his bulge. "Mmm, that feels just nice. I would love to learn how to give a blowjob."
"Lord have mercy," he groaned, his face growing red.
"What a sinful harlot you are."