The Preacher's Wife: A Hotwife Fantasy Novel

by Jason Lenov

  The Preacher's Wife

  A Hotwife Fantasy Novel

  by

  Jason Lenov

  Copyright 2017 Jason Lenov

  Thirteenth Line Publications

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, companies, organizations, products and events in this book, other than those that are clearly in the public domain, are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, companies, organizations, events, or products, is purely coincidental.

  All characters depicted in this story are 18 years or older.

  Cover characters are models. Image(s) is/are licensed from:

  depositphotos.com

  If you enjoy this story, we'd love it if you spent a few minutes checking out the rest of our catalog at Thirteenth Line Join the Thirteenth Line mailing list, to get notified about our releases.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  We arrived in Scramonston in the full heat of high summer. The air was so sticky with moisture it seemed as if even the cattails in the swamp were sweating. There was a beautiful blue lake just north of the city with a small beach that Faith remarked would be perfect for swimming.

  I had prodded her into the guilty pleasure of hiring movers. Mostly because I had no interest in hauling chesterfields and beds up and down stairs.

  Mostly.

  Faith had agreed after some convincing. I finally had a job, after all, and things would not be as tight as they had been and I think a part of her was looking forward to being a lady and supervising where things were set instead of dragging them around herself.

  So Faith and I sipped lemonade on the porch and watched as the men, very professional I might add, did their job.

  Every hour or so they would indulge in a cigarette break. They would huddle by the truck just out of earshot smoking and talking amongst themselves.

  Faith was oblivious to their furtive glances as she had been to all men's glances since the day we met.

  And I?

  And I.

  I, a newly ordained minister, sat next to my wife pretending to look in a different direction. But behind my dark glass I was indulging my forbidden fantasy, my dirty secret that no one but I knew about.

  Had I prayed?

  Oh how I had prayed. I had prayed so often and so hard to the Almighty to heal me of this affliction. I had prayed every night on my knees that He might make this dark desire that haunted my thoughts go skittering back into whatever hellish crevice it had crawled from.

  But I knew deep in my heart that this was a battle for me and me alone. I would have to exorcise this demon on my own.

  I tried. Every day I tried. Sometimes I was overcome by weakness.

  This was one of those times.

  My eyes danced back and forth behind my glasses. To Faith, her sweet smile that made the contours of her face the softest I'd ever seen. Then to those rough and muscled men and their occasional leering stares.

  I felt the familiar short-circuit in my mind as I took another sip of lemonade. The thought, ignited by the sight of the their eyes raking over her supple curves skipped the human, thinking, rational part of my brain and darted straight to the animal reflex.

  The image it inspired flooded through me like a drug, shooting down my spine and nestling itself firmly between my thighs, hardening my member and warming my loins.

  Faith. Beautiful, blonde Faith. Her sparkling blue eyes. Her pert but ample bosom. Her round bottom and slender legs that ended in dainty, pointed toes.

  That lovely creature Faith that I had the privilege of calling my wife. I laid her on her back in my mind. I watched those legs split lovingly open, saw the perfect pink rose kissed by dew yawn ever so slightly.

  And what did I do then? What did I think of next?

  Why, I put all three of those black men that were smoking by the truck around my pretty flower. Why? Why did I imagine these things? Why did I harden as I imagined their meat defile my beautiful wife?

  “William? Will?”

  Faith's gentle voice shook me from my dark reverie and put me back into the sticky heat.

  The men were standing by the porch eyeing me, expectant and waiting.

  “William, are you alright?” Faith asked quietly, setting her hand on my arm.

  I shifted in my seat, so as to hide the bulge that had formed below my waist. “Yes…what? I'm fine.”

  Faith shot me a curious look. “The gentlemen were just saying that they’re done. They moved the last few items. I believe…I believe it’s time to…”

  It took me a moment to realize what she meant. Faith didn’t like speaking about money aloud in front of strangers but she nodded at my jacket.

  I turned in my seat and reached in for my pocketbook muttering, “Yes, yes, of course it is.”

  The first gentleman who looked like he was in charge handed me his invoice.

  I made the check out for the requested sum, then pulled out a few bills, then a few more, to tip the men for their services. Or perhaps to assuage my guilt at the thrill I had gotten at their expense.

  They were all thankful and tipped their hats and muttered thank-you’s on the way back to the truck.

  Faith smiled as she watched them leave.

  I sat clutching the arms of my chair as I waited for the finale of my depravity.

  It came just as I expected.

  As each of the men mounted the cab of the truck they glanced back.

  I made sure it looked like I was looking the other way but my eyes were affixed to their backs.

  As each of them drank in one last glance of Faith, sitting primly in her chair, the faintest snarl curled their lips and bared their teeth.

  And there I was again, in that world I so loved and so reviled. Faith splayed and moaning on the ground as they defiled her with their veiny cocks.

  And me, the preacher, gazing and lusting on the sidelines.

  “William?”

  Her voice startled me again. My eyes met hers but she couldn’t tell behind my glasses.

  She reached up and took them off, shaking her head. “William, what has gotten into you? Is it this heat?”

  “What? How do you mean?” I stammered, feeling like a cornered animal, ready to bolt.

  Faith raised an eye and smiled. “How do I mean? You seem comatose? And nervous at the same time!" A giggle bubbled up from her tummy and she covered her mouth. "Those men were standing there for a good minute before I had to wake you up. Are you sick?” She pressed the back of her hand to my head. Her skin felt cool against the summer heat.

  I shook my head, shaking out the last of the vision that had entranced me, and smiled. “I’m fine. Just a little tired is all.”

  Faith smiled, seemingly reassured. “Shall we go in? Maybe open a box or two?”

  The question was innocent enough but in my aroused state my mind drifted to the soft, fleshy box that I would attempt to pry open that night. The thought made my cock throb.

  The motion of it caught Faith’
s eye. Her gaze darted to my crotch then to the side as she realized what she was looking at. A moment later, her cheeks flushed.

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea!” I said, standing up and adjusting my trousers, sparing her the embarrassment of an uncomfortable silence between us.

  Faith forced a smile but couldn’t bring herself to look at my eyes.

  As the familiar guilt welled inside me I walked through the front door of our new house.

  Oh, how I would have to pray that night.

  Chapter 2

  I met Faith Summers at a bible camp. We were both nineteen and I had already heard the calling to service. Up to that time I had resisted my bodily urges, for the most part. There were moments of weakness, of course, nights when the ache became too great.

  But Faith’s beauty burst the dam.

  I still remember what it felt like to first touch her as we shook hands. She had the most pleasant demeanour and the softest skin and I had not met many girls before. I fell for her almost instantly, her constant stream of questions about me and my life drawing me out of my shell.

  That time was also the first time my little black demon came crawling out.

  After Faith and I had finished our conversation, she turned politely to the next boy in line and began asking him the same things.

  My heart sank even as my lust swelled. A deep and confusing jealousy gripped me, one I could barely control. I stared as she smiled and giggled at this boy in the same way she had with me. My cock grew to an uncomfortable hardness and I didn’t know why.

  That night I gave in to my carnal desires and took myself in hand, the whole time thinking of Faith and what she had looked like simply being polite to that other guy.

  I spent the week getting to know her between classes whenever I could and falling more and more in love with her. By the end of our time at the camp, I was sure of the path that had been chosen for me and quite confident that Faith felt the same way.

  I announced my intentions to her and felt the most wondrous flood of joy and relief when she replied with a “yes.” Little did I know that the most difficult part of my life had just begun.

  As I was heading to seminary almost immediately following the camp, Faith and I asked our parents for permission to go on a small holiday. Both my parents and her in-laws were thrilled at the news of our union.

  You might think it quick, that we decided to marry after only a week but we were both very sure of ourselves and each other and it wasn’t unusual in our tradition. The fact we’d met at bible camp reassured our parents that we would live a good life together.

  Though we had our parent’s blessing for the marriage they were less enthusiastic about a young un-wed couple sharing a vacation. Her parents, instead, invited me to their house which was just a few hours drive from ours, so Faith and I could spend time together under their watchful eyes.

  Though I had the best intentions to remain chaste until our wedding, I saw how wise their decision was once Faith and began taking strolls alone together or sitting on the bench under the big willow tree in their backyard, often holding hands.

  It was a struggle to control my aching cock throughout the day. Just the scent of her in the room would send blood rushing from my head and into my cock. I spent the days trying to hide the growing bulge, the evenings praying for forgiveness and the nights pumping myself to release after release as I envisioned Faith.

  On my last night, her parents suggested we might stay up after they went to bed. Her mother took her into the kitchen for a private conversation while her father stayed in the living room with me. He took a seat next to me on the sofa and put a heavy hand on my knee. “I suppose you know what I mean to talk about?” he asked.

  I did but didn’t want to admit it, for fear that by doing so I would betray sordid thoughts I’d been entertaining about his daughter for the last few days. I shook my head.

  “Come on now, William,” he said in his deep voice. “We are men of God but we are men. You can trust me when I say I know how difficult it is to keep the faith in times like this. But I know that you will respect my daughter and for that you have my thanks.”

  It was impossible that he didn’t see that even then my cock was bouncing. Shame and guilt welled through me at my lack of control of my primal instincts.

  Without another word he gave my knee a pat and headed up to bed.

  Faith emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later, red-faced and clearly embarrassed.

  Her mother followed her father upstairs and suddenly we were very alone. After a few moments of awkward silence between us Faith cut the tension in the room. “Shall we go sit outside?”

  It was a beautiful summer night. The crickets were all around us and frogs croaked quietly from the pond. A gentle breeze would whip up now and again, tossing the tresses of Faith’s blonde hair up past her ear. She would reach up and tuck them back and close her eyes, draw in a breath and smile at how lovely it all was.

  We sat mostly in silence, a little depressed that this had to end but happy that it had happened.

  “What did my father say to you?” Faith asked after a while.

  I hesitated, a little embarrassed and not sure if I should tell her. But then I came to the conclusion that she was going to be my wife and we should learn to speak of these things. After all, just talking about it wasn’t a sin. “He said that we are men of God but we are men,” I explained.

  Faith burst into soft giggles, a sound that made me fall in love with her even more.

  I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat, suddenly made uncomfortable by her laughter. Why I’m still not sure. I still find women to be complicated creatures and more complicated is the way they make men feel.

  Maybe because they have the thing we most desire. Maybe because they are the givers and we men are the takers and that puts us at their mercy.

  “What did your mother say?” I asked, mostly to break the silence that had settled between us again.

  Faith smiled. It was a shy smile but there was some mischief in it, too. “She sat me down and explained what it means to be a good wife,” she whispered.

  I cocked an eye as my cock engorged with blood. My mouth dried out and I could barely speak, only whisper. “And what did she say about it?” I asked.

  Faith smiled again, then shook her head. She turned her chin up so she was almost looking down her nose at me. “Oh no, mister. That will have to wait until our wedding night.”

  We sat and chatted some more but it was difficult because my mind kept drifting back to Faith’s answer to my question and wondering what would happen on our wedding night, and what her mother had told her.

  The next day we both felt a sadness as I left but were heartened by the fact that we would be together again soon.

  A few months into my time at the seminary, I realized that three years would be far too long for us to be apart. There were other students who were older and had wives, one couple even had a child, and I decided that I would marry Faith much sooner than expected and bring her to live with me.

  It was a small wedding and held at her parent’s church. We couldn’t afford a large one and neither of us wanted one anyway. Just our parents and a few close friends. We married in November, which is a strange time but I was young and eager to begin my life with her.

  The reception dinner was held at their family home, which was also where my parents and I were staying.

  Everyone got along well enough and after dessert her father began joking with me that he was sure I was eager to get to sleep. Everyone had a good laugh at my expense as I sat red-faced at the table, even Faith.

  We helped clear the table, said our goodbyes and then walked upstairs into the guest bedroom her mother had prepared for our first night as man and wife.

  I had a hard time even looking at Faith after we’d closed the door. We had been alone together before but I was practically shaking in anticipation of our consummation of the marriage.

  Faith stepped clo
se to me, put my hand in hers and made me look into her eyes. “Are you nervous?” she whispered.

  I nodded, unable to speak at all any more.

  “Me too,” she said softly. “A little bit. Do you want to help me take my dress off?”

  Oh holy light from heaven did I ever want to do that. Faith turned around and explained how I should unzip the dress, then how to peel it off her shoulders.

  One touch of her soft skin had my cock throbbing in my pants.

  The dress fell off of her and into a puddle of fabric around her feet and for the first time I saw Faith without anything but her underthings.

  My eyes gorged on the creamy round orbs of her bottom cheeks. She had a tiny dimple at the small of her back and her legs were so long and lovely that I nearly erupted into my underwear.

  Faith turned around and looked at me. As I held her lovely gaze she reached behind herself and unhooked the clasp of her bra, then let it fall away revealing her beautiful breasts.

  I sucked in a breath at the sight of her pert peaks. She had very small nipples and they pointed straight out as if begging to be suckled. I couldn’t help but stare at them.

  In between the two perfect mounds, her crucifix glistened, reflecting the light from the bedside lamp.

  “Do you want to touch them?” Faith asked quietly. Without waiting for an answer, she lifted my hand and pressed my palm against her breast.

  I could have ravaged her there and then I was so aroused. The kind and caring William had disappeared, consumed by a ferocious wild beast that wanted to plunder her flesh and make her completely my own. Somehow I managed to stand my ground.

  I kneaded her fleshy breast then let my fingers drift down until my thumb and forefinger were on opposite sides of the pretty pink bud of her nipple.