Paul Conroy - Sex Sated Minister

"Mrs. Lasten is as widow. When her husband was alive she had a most enjoyable sexual relationship with him. But when he died she became terribly frustrated. She was ready to go to another town and peddle her body on the street corners. Aside from the possible venereal diseases she might have picked up, she ran the risk of going to jail. Could I allow something like that to happen, leaving her son completely homeless?"

"I suppose not," Susan reluctantly admitted.

"Remember, Susan, there are times one must use one's body to save the soul of one we love. There's no shame in it. I don't go talking about it to everyone because not everyone will understand. But remember this: there may come a time when you will be called upon to make such a sacrifice. Don't think of it as merely a sacrifice. You are giving love, and therefore are entitled to all the enjoyment and pleasure you can reap from it"

"I don't know… " Susan shrugged.

"I'm not advocating the complete surrender of your body to any and every male you see. In fact, I'm not suggesting you really become physically involved with anyone, certainly not at your tender age. But it would be best if you were understanding. And remember, love is not a commodity one really finds too openly."

"I'm still confused," Susan told him, heading for the door.

"You're a young girl," Trashman told her. "You've been given much to absorb today. You'll have to think about it, sift it all in your mind, and reach your own conclusions. Don't depend on the ideas and thoughts of others. God gave you a mind. Use it!"

"Tell me, Reverend Trashman, would you make love to me if I asked you to do it?"

"You're much too young to feel frustrated or unloved, Susan. What I have to offer is a substitute for the kind of love other women will either never get, or once had and lost. I hope you will never get to the stage where you have to come to me or someone like me. You're young, vibrant, alive. At this point in time I think it best you make your own way and not think of me as a part of it."

Susan thanked him, and left. She was more confused than ever. Yet of one thing she was certain, and that was, the Reverend Trashman was a good man.

Was Betty really evil, then? Was she enticing her father into a life of evil?

And what about her mother? How could her mother call what her father wanted evil, and yet perform what she felt was even greater evil with her new husband, calling it absolution? Susan was more confused than ever.

Betty Frank was worried. She felt she had lost some kind of communication with her two stepchildren. This bothered her, because she wanted to be on good terms with everyone in the household.

It was while Susan was Reverend Trash-man's, and her husband had gone to the corner grocer-open seven days a week-that Betty chanced to hear sounds coming from David's bedroom. She peered in and saw part of David's naked body lying on his bed. The rest was hidden by a high headboard. But what she saw was enough to convince her her stepson was becoming a man. He was jerking on his hard penis, a phallic extension only slightly shorter and thinner than his father's, and he was moaning and groaning as he masturbated.

Quietly easing herself out of the room, she waited until Ira Frank came home, then took him aside and said, "I'd like to talk to you about David."

"Sure," Ira nodded. "What's the problem?"

"Davey is starting to grow up. I saw him masturbating, today."

"Good," Ira nodded. "It's a healthy sign."

"True," Betty agreed. "But it won't be long before he wants to become sexually involved with girls. Heaven only knows what might happen. He has to be taught to take precautions so the girls won't become pregnant. Most important, he has to be made to understand he can bring a girl home and use his own bedroom. We don't want him caught with his pants down behind some bush."

"Just what are you suggesting?" Ira wanted to know.

"I think I should be allowed to show Davey the right way to do things," Betty told him.

"Hey now, I'm the last man in the world to deprive you of something you really want, but we're only married three days. You're already going to give yourself to Davey?"

"Ira, it's because he's your son that I want your permission. Otherwise I would just go ahead and do it. I mean, you know this has nothing to do with us and how we feel about one another."

"I know," Ira Frank nodded.

"Let's be a real family in the true sense of the word. We both know love is very important. And there is no reason why I shouldn't give both, you and Davey, every conceivable kind of love I'm capable of giving. Whatever love I give to Davey will not be taking any away from you."

"I realize that, honey," Ira answered, smiling. "Who knows? In time we may be able to make love to you jointly."

"I think that would be a wonderful idea. I'm glad I waited for you, Ira. No other man would be as understanding."

"It's easy to be understanding with a woman like you," he said warmly, and Betty knew he meant it. "If you feel Davey is ready for the facts of life, you go ahead and teach them to him. Just keep that sweet little hole ready for me, after."

"All of me is ready for you any time you want me," she assured him, and he felt the sincerity of her remark warm him.

"When will you proceed?"

"Tomorrow. It's Susan's late day. Davey will be home from school a good hour and a half before her."

"Fine. The two of you will have the house to yourselves, then."

The following day, at two thirty, Davey came home from his last class in the eighth grade and dropped his books on the hall table near the front door.

"Hi," Betty said. She was wearing a simple blue dress clinging tightly to her ample figure. If Davey was growing up as fast as she believed, she knew he would be affected by it.

"Oh, hi Betty," he said, smiling a little. But Betty recognized the way he had forced the smile.

"Come on into the kitchen for some milk and a piece of pie."

"I'm not hungry," he whispered, and she saw him redden as the bulge in his groin became evident.

"Something is bothering you, Davey," she said. "Suppose you and I go upstairs and talk about it."

"Upstairs?"

"In your bedroom. It's clean. I made the bed. Or would you prefer my bedroom."

"Gee, I dunno. I mean… "

"Come on," she urged, putting an arm around his shoulders. Tm not so terrible. You can talk to me."

She guided him up the stairs and into his bedroom, shutting the door as she said, "We want to talk privately, without being interrupted."

There was a tremor in her voice which hinted at her own nervousness, but Davey was too shaken up to notice.

She had reached over his shoulder to shut the door, and now her arm came down on his. A sudden jolt of electricity buzzed through her body as she found herself swaying on her feet.

"Hey Betty, be careful," Davey whispered, reaching out and grabbing her by the waist.

He guided her toward the bed, but before either could sit, Betty brought her lips level with those of Davey and lightly kissed him. The pent-up passion in the boy suddenly released itself. He pushed his mouth against hers fiercely, flattening her aching, swollen breasts against his own chest. One of his hands reached down as if of its own free will, and pressed against her asscheeks, hard, pushing her crotch into his cock. He jammed his tongue between her gasping lips, stroking it smoothly and deftly against hers, as if he'd done such things all his life. The hot wet caress of tongue on tongue made both shiver violently before Davey broke the kiss and tried pulling away.

"Don't go," she whispered almost harshly, holding him to her. "Stay with me, Davey."

"I can't," he muttered. "It's wrong, Betty. You belong to my dad."