Paul Conroy - Sex Sated Minister

Susan pressed her eye to the hole, staring closely, suddenly wanting Vivian to come. She had to come. Her father was pumping Vivian with such hard strokes it was certainly only a matter of seconds before he came.

"G… give it to m… meeeeeee… " Vivian begged.

"You've got it all, sweet… uhhhhhh… asshole… "he gasped, still running the full length of flesh hose back and forth.

She shuddered madly, clenching her asscheeks tightly around the heavy phallus continually violating the sanctity of her rectum. Feelings were building to a greater pitch than ever, and Vivian knew she was totally out of control. Her orgasm was there, hitting her with sledgehammer force as she screamed a low, "Eeeeeyyy-yyyyyyyyooooowwwwwweeeeee!"

It was the wildest, most different kind of climax she'd ever enjoyed, but it was a real, honest-to-God climax. Her asshole tightened, squeezing and tightly clenching the cock within, and because of the pressure, Ira Frank began unloading heavily into her rectum.

"Ggnnnnngggggghhhhrrrrnngghhhhh!" he grated through clenched teeth. A loud yell, even with acoustic tile and paneling covering all the walls, would have been heard.

Vivian bucked madly, feeling the softening cock still moving through her rectum. Slowly she began coming down to earth, letting her lush body collapse on the orthodontal chair as if it were deflating.

Ira Frank kept his cock inside as long as possible, falling on top of her still, white form. The last few heavy drops of cream were leaving his cock, dripping into her anal cavern, already flooded with all the white cream he'd had to offer on that particular fuck.

She felt his hairy thighs rub her soft, quivering buns, and it was a secure feeling. But he finally stood back and pulled his penetrating cock out with a "pop." She felt her rectal hole tighten against itself as the cock left.

"C'mon," Ira Frank panted. "We still have a lotta kids whose mouths need caring. Let's get dressed and go to work."

"Doctor Frank," Vivian murmured, hurriedly dressing. "I'm afraid I'm going to continue needing treatments like this."

"I'll take care of it, nurse," he promised, buckling his belt.

Long after her father and the nurse left, Susan stood in the storeroom thinking about everything she'd seen and heard. The whole world was hypocritical. People went to church and promised God they would do good things and avoid evil and temptation, and yet, when it came down to doing things, everyone… everyone she knew, including the Reverend Trashman, her mother, and the father she adored and loved more than anyone, did what she had been taught was evil.

If people really enjoyed fucking so much, why did they preach it was wrong? Why did parents teach children what not to do, and then go ahead themselves and do it?

The only open, honest person she really knew was Al Lasten. He was openly licentious, outwardly lascivious, and an admitted pervert. He was as vile in habit as he was in appearance. And his words seconded his actions. No one had to guess about him.

And yet, the mere conjuring of his face in front of her eyes made Susan shudder. Al Lasten was not just a rake. He was evil in its most primitive form. He represented all the things shunned by decent folk and hypocrites, alike. Decent folk? Susan found there were no such animals. All people were either hypocrites, or openly disgusting, like Al Lasten. If one could not be like Lasten, then one had to pretend to be pure while indulging in certain fantasies in secret. At least sex was a fantasy one could indulge in and not destroy one's physical self. Even if one's soul was forever doomed afterward, one's physical being remained unharmed.

Susan left the storeroom and sneaked out the way she had come in. She returned home and found Betty making supper.

"Can I talk to you?" she asked Betty as the woman hustled around the kitchen.

"Sure," Betty nodded, smiling.

To look at her one would never guess she had committed adultery with her own stepson. Her face seemed so openly happy and innocent.

Susan's mother had given Susan her own ideas about sex. But the mother had not adhered to them, herself. She was using self-abasement as an excuse to indulge in all sorts of sexual exercises. Now it was time to hear what Betty had to say. Susan was curious what lies Betty might come up with to hide her own actions.

"Mother used to lecture us about sex all the time," Susan said, sitting at the kitchen table. "She told us it was evil, and if we wanted to go to heaven when we died, we would have to abstain from it, except for those times when we wished to procreate."

"Uh huh," Betty nodded, testing a soup she had on the stove.

"Well, I'd kind of like to hear what you have to say about sex," Susan prompted.

"Seriously?" Betty asked, putting a salad in the refrigerator.

"Very seriously," Susan nodded. "And what if you don't like what I have to say?"

"Whether I like it or not isn't really important," Susan said. "What is important is the truth. I want to know what you believe is the truth about sex."

"Well then," Betty said, sitting opposite Susan at the kitchen table. "The truth is very simple. God, or Nature, or whomever or whatever force is out there, put us together with very, very strong desires. Many of us have such strong desires we let them override everything else we feel."

"And is that wrong?" Susan asked.

"Each of us has to individually decide what is right or wrong for him or herself," Betty replied. "What may be right for me might easily be wrong for you. I know I made up my mind before I met your father that I had a lot of love in me. Although certain animal instincts occasionally became so strong they needed satisfying, I didn't think of them as being a part of love. To this day, people who do not love each other marry and sleep together, having children. But something is lacking in their lives. If one can get love along with sex, well then, one should get as much of it as one can. But if there is no love available, I think it criminal to keep one's physical emotions bottled up. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Not really," Susan said, shaking her head.

"Well then, to put it very plainly, if one can love a man, she should love him in every way possible. She most certainly should not hold back any part of the love in her. However, if there is no emotional love around, a woman still needs a physical release from certain tensions, and should therefore seek them from someone."

"You're saying, it's all right for a woman to fuck for a man she doesn't love."

"Crudely put," Betty nodded. "I think a woman has to fuck with someone in order to relieve inner tensions that build from day-to-day. I'm not saying a woman should go out, lay down in the streets and yell for the men to come and get it. There should be a certain amount of discretion. But fucking is as much a part of life as eating, breathing, and sleeping. It's necessary."

"What about marriage?" Susan asked.

"Marriage is something wonderful, if it's with the right person," Betty said. "When you marry a man, you're saying to him, I want to live with you, to share myself with you, and to share part of you with you."

"Doesn't it mean a woman or a man should keep herself or himself faithful to that one marriage partner?"

"I don't think a woman should sneak around behind her husband's back having tawdry little affairs," Betty acknowledged. "But if her husband is the right kind of man, he'll understand her need for more than one man, just as she should understand his physical needs for more than one woman. We have variety in the foods we eat, the beverages we drink, the clothing we wear, and even the perfumes we apply. Why shouldn't we be able to occasionally vary our sexual partners? It doesn't mean we love our mates any less. On the contrary, it makes us appreciate them all the more."