Chapter 30: Baring Buxom Becky

The innocent and naïve Becky had been very impressed by the gentle and handsome minister. She noticed also that her mother seemed happier and more relaxed than she'd been since before they moved here. The minister's message had been good for her, she thought and she felt a certain warmth and closeness to him because of that.

Next day Reverend Wilson waited impatiently for young Becky Bartlett to arrive to receive her instruction for joining the church. Her mother had definitely been an above average lay and clearly her husband had not developed her sexual talents. But Wilson wanted innocence. He had not had a virgin since the precocious pre-teen, Shelly and that was a month or more ago. The Philipino girl had been remarkably skilled but she certainly had not been innocent or a virgin. The lecherous preacher felt his organ swell as he remembered the caress of Marie's muscular passage and how Becky's sex-starved mother had responded to her own indoctrination.

Although the good Reverend Wilson had enjoyed extreme intimacies with many lovely women and girls, young fourteen-year-old Becky Bartlett was something special.

She had a clear brow, which is not surprising for one so young, and an upturned nose with slightly flared nostrils, high cheekbones and a firm round chin. Her eyes were large and brown and whenever he spoke to her they seemed to sparkle with friendliness. Would she be as friendly as he wanted?

The young girl's mouth was delicious, rather small but soft and pleasing with a superbly bowed and very full upper lip over an equally full, permanently pouting lower lip. The thought of having that small mouth stretched around his manhood and feeling those pretty, red lips slicing over it was a huge turn-on for the lecherous preacher. But it was not the greatest turn-on.

Becky's body was beautiful in a plump, girlish way. She was not very tall but was stunningly curved. The predatory preacher stripped her with his experienced eyes and, as he would soon confirm, his assessment was surprisingly accurate. The girl had wonderful breasts, large, full, firm, ripe and delectable with, he guessed, nipples that would be long and dark in puckered areolas when she was properly aroused. And, despite their size that was impressive for an adult, let alone a fourteen-year-old girl, they jutted out proudly as if defying gravity.

Beneath the prominent outswell of her breasts Wilson could see because of the stylish gap between skirt and blouse that her belly was convex, a sign of maybe residual babyfat making a bit of a roll at her waist. The rest of his mental image was pure fantasy although it too was surprisingly accurate. There would be an almost hairless mound that curved inward between her full thighs. His eyes bored through her clothes to imagine the narrow slit that bisected the target of his lustful dream. She had to be a virgin, he thought. She must be. And she must have inherited her mother's carnal aptitudes.

Yesterday when he interviewed Becky after her mother set things up it had been difficult to retrain his urge to have her right away. As he had already noted, at fourteen the dark-haired youngster was nicely rounded, in body anyway if not in experience, and she seemed to be delightfully tractable. She wasn't stupid but her innocence was such that she could be easily led, he was sure. He'd rely on the new substance he brought back after his vasectomy, with no hypnotism. If that didn't seem to be working he could always revert to his old technique. And of course he'd got her mother without any chemical assistance. Now he waited impatiently in his office.

Becky Bartlett stood in front of the minister's office door and stifled a moan. She had butterflies flittering around in her stomach from nervousness. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

The fourteen-year-old girl shivered when she heard the minister's deep voice say, "Come in"

Reverend Wilson looked up from his large desk. His eyes were like magnets, drawing her gaze to his as he said softly, "Dear Becky, please come in and sit down."

Becky came forward hesitantly and sat in the big padded chair in front of the desk. She sat up very straight with her ankles, not her legs, crossed; her hands folded submissively in her lap.

Reverend Wilson looked at her sternly. He was very nice looking, the girl thought. Bigger than her father and younger. And the dark robe he wore today gave him an almost majestic appearance, like a king in a fairy book. The way his eyes bored into her made her feel uneasy but at the same time it made her feel strangely warm. Silently she accepted the glass of lemonade the preacher offered.

Becky had almost no experience with boys. She'd gone to school with them of course but her parents kept her at home and she'd played mainly by herself. Despite that she had thought about boys like girls do but she had never even touched herself intimately or allowed herself to fantasize. She had been feeling strange sensations through her body for almost two years now, ever since her breasts began to swell and she had her first period. She sometimes slept with a pillow between her legs, getting a funny feeling from its pressure there but she was almost totally ignorant of what it meant.

"Becky," said Reverend Wilson. "I know that you have decided to join our church but before we can complete your baptism you have to be sure you are ready... and that the church is right for you."

As he spoke the minister rose to his feet and took the girl by her hand, leading her into the adjoining room and over to the couch where he had consummated so many sexual baptisms.

"Come Becky, sit down. I have been around many girls coming to womanhood and making this decision." Reverend Wilson sat down on one end of the couch and patted the seat near him.

Becky drained the glass of lemonade and then gingerly sat down on the couch several feet from Reverend Wilson. Demurely she placed her hands in her lap, her feet and knees together and her back straight. She glanced up at Reverend Wilson and said shyly, "Please Reverend, I... I... I hope you can help me." and she felt as if she needed help but she wasn't sure why.

"You have to trust me, Becky. You have to trust me while I prepare you for a woman's place in the church... and for becoming a wife and mother." He stared at her intensely, watching her reaction. "I'm sure that you're getting a special feeling here," and Wilson placed his hand on the firm bulge of the girl's tummy. The lemonade would have taken effect by now, he was sure.

Becky gasped softly and brought her hand to her mouth. Her belly felt warm but empty and her body weak. How had he known about how she felt?

The horny preacher drank in the sight of the pretty teenager, so young, so beautiful and so trusting. Her eyes, dark brown glowed with intelligence and yet confusion of youth. Reverend Wilson could see the outline of a matronly brassiere cupping those succulent globes. They were large like her mother's but firmer, he mused. Her torso dipped into a trim waist cinched tight with a belt then flared into hips that would hold him comfortably when her completed her baptismal preparation. Her legs were firm and shapely, her knees, pressed so firmly together that he wondered how he would get them spread apart.

"Do you think you can tell me how you are feeling, now that you are fourteen and can make the decision to join the church?" Reverend Wilson slid closer to Becky and put a hand on her shoulder.

Becky trembled slightly. She was not afraid or upset by the Reverend's nearness. On the contrary, her body was very aware of the man by her side. There was a sense of something special about the man, almost an odor that was making her even warmer. And her mother had told her that she should trust him. She squirmed slightly under Reverend Wilson's hand and she felt her nipples stiffen against the fabric of her brassiere.

Wilson's hand went to the back of her neck and gripped it lightly then began to rub it. He slid closer to the compliant youngster, her scent filling his nostrils. He breathed deeply, savoring the smell of Becky's virginal arousal. He let his hand massage her soft neck and the heat from her body was incredible, an aphrodisiac of innocence and freshness.

"Am I helping you to relax, my dear?"

The girl's breathing was getting heavier as Reverend Wilson's big, warm hand stroked her neck and stirred up deep longings in her belly that she could not identify.

The unprincipled preacher smiled to himself, enjoying her embarrassment as she stumbled for words she didn't know. His hand began kneading up around her shoulders. Moving his head closer still, Reverend Wilson put his mouth next to her ear and whispered; "Now you must relax totally, my dear. You must give yourself over to my care and teaching."

His hot breath caressed the delicate skin of her ear and he felt her shiver. He allowed himself the briefest surge of power and relished the feel of his cock jumping and straining under his robe. Gently he turned the girl's face to his and looked at the startled doe eyes staring at him, pupils dilated. Her full lips were slightly parted and wet from her licking them.

"Reverend?" The whimpered word came out as the extension of a breath as Becky leaned forward bringing her face closer to his.

The girl's sweet breath on his face made Wilson's prick jump under his loose robe. Her eyelashes fluttered close and she tilted her face up and with a tiny, soft whimper swayed toward him. The impressionable youngster was affected by the spiked lemonade and also by her trusting innocence and she was under the minister's spell. Her lips met his.

The soft resilience of her moist lips touching his told Reverend Wilson that he could proceed. Quickly slipping a mint into his mouth, he put both hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him, pulling her to him. Her young body yielded unresistingly. He pressed his lips onto hers tasting her and, holding her head gently he let the kiss deepen. The girl moaned softly, soothed by her minister's gentle, minty kiss and he took advantage of her acquiescence and let his tongue tease her closed lips. They parted slightly and his tongue slipped easily into the humid depths, claiming her, exploring her teeth, searching.

Wilson could tell that Becky didn't know what was happening to her. Her breathing was erratic and the small catches and pants she made sent shivers of desire through his veins. Clasping one of her demurely folded hands, he held it and drew her closer. The naïve fourteen-year-old girl came to him willingly and in her unsuspecting innocence her large, soft ass snuggled down on her minister's lap. The lustful preacher was exploring her mouth almost brutally now, his teeth bruising her lips and his tongue raping the depths of her innocent mouth just as another probing part of his body would plunder an equally virginal orifice.

Becky was mindless as the storm of desire danced over her body. Ignorant though she was of man-woman things she sensed that what her minister was doing was somehow sinful and in her purity she believed that it was her fault. But the nagging guilt she felt for allowing the Reverend to kiss her was overcome by the strange, hot hunger in her belly. She melted into his kiss and nearly fainted when he pulled her onto his lap. She could feel something hard under his robes and sensed that he too had special feelings. She moaned deep in her throat as the preacher claimed her mouth again and again, enjoying the feel of his teeth bruising her swollen lips. Her nipples felt achy and distended and she unconsciously rubbed herself against him making herself weak and shaky all over with the sudden surge of desire that flooded her young, innocent body.

The unseasoned teen felt the novel stirrings of adult arousal as her clitoris began to tingle and swell and her vagina became wet with the lubricating nectar that would soon ease her transition into sexual womanhood.