Message-ID: <7314eli$9801151859@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Tom Subject: Moly and the Preacher (M/f) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: tje@mail.nls.net MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <00474040612159@nls.net> Molly and the Preacher She had a pretty, angelic face which was very young looking. Her golden hair was a delight to see, shimmering in the sunlight. Her little girl voice tinkled like a wind chime in a light breeze. Her clothes were rather baggy at our first meeting and I could not tell if she were well formed or scrawny. She was a troubled child who came from a broken home and lived with her mother, who had a drug habit. As the assistant pastor of the church my job was to deal with such difficult family problems. Molly did poorly in school, although she was clearly very intelligent. And while she was not unruly, she was unfocused and out of touch. Despite all this, she seemed to be a sweet little kid and I enjoyed talking with her. We became friends. I thought that it would do her good to become involved in some structured activity with children her own age, so I arranged for her to attend our youth retreat. Every year several dozen young people from the congregation, along with a few disadvantaged youth from elsewhere, camped out at the church's property on Lake Huron. As the newly appointed assistant pastor, my job would be to supervise the children and see to their needs. Molly was not at all excited about camping out in tents, but she went numbly along. It was a delightful day in early Summer when our several buses filled with singing children rolled up I 75 to the camp north of Alpena. Molly was in my bus and she stood next to me as I drove, not singing with the others. I felt her hand on the back of my neck and on my head. She stroked me as she stared out the front window at the oncoming, unending forest of northern Michigan. It was a bit unnerving. Finally we arrived and the kids scooted out of the buses with shrieks of delight into the pugent aroma of a cedar forest with the lake in view nearby. Molly stayed behind with me as I sorted out the luggage, trying to help. She was such an adorable little girl. As she lifted up suitcases I noticed then that she had small breasts under her t shirt. Our work crew had already set up the camp and the children stood in line to be assigned their tents, eager to get into their swimming gear and splash in the cool waves of Lake Huron. It was a very busy time for me and Molly stood by and tried to help in whatever way she could, which, really, was not much. I assigned her a bunk in a tent and shooed her off. I did not see her again until late in the afternoon, when the camp counsellors gathered the children for a lesson in water safety. She was clad in a two piece bathing suit and she was stunningly beautiful. I reminded myself that she was just twelve years old, but I could not tear my eyes from her. She had the most exquisite, soft looking, shapely limbs. She stood apart from the other children, looking at me, smiling shyly. It distressed me that I found her so physically attractive. I stared at her upper thighs and her bare midrift and felt guilty. But I continued to stare. I was just twenty five years old and still a virgin. We had a bonfire that night, after which the children were sent off to their bunks. The camp still buzzed with their noises, even after lights out. Then quiet settled over the cedar grove and I walked to the beach and the sound of lapping waves. It was so peaceful as I nestled in the sand and breathed the smell of the lake. Then Molly appeared next to me, still clad in her swiming garb, shivering in the coolness of the evening. Without a word she sat down next to me and lay on the sand, shivering. I had no coat to offer her and I suggested that she return to her tent where she would be warm and could sleep. Instead, she snuggled close to me, her head nuzzling my shoulder, her one arm across my chest. I was in a panic! I could not identify her aroma, part Lake Huron, part girl, but it was an alluring smell. I dared not touch her! I was thinking of touching her! I got up quickly and went to the shore, where I waded in the water, the coldness of it on my feet reinforcing my discipline. Molly followed me and then took my hand in hers. I lost my resolve, stopped, and then embraced the lovely, willing girl. She buried her face in my chest as she clutched me, and we stood with our feet in the lapping water as we hugged each other. My mind was in a turmoil. I suspected that I had fallen in love with her. She was just twelve! I told myself to no avail. Then, suddenly, we saw two dim figures down the beach walking toward us. Molly scampered away and in a minute I encountered two counsellors on an evening stroll. We exchanged pleasantries and chatted about the day's events. Then they left me alone and I looked about. Molly was gone. I went back to my tent and felt awful. The memory of her loviness urged me to masturbate, but I resisted. In divinity school I had a large sign on my wall which stated "DON'T". I had masturbated, of course, more than I would like to admit, but it always left me with remorse and shame. I masturbated that night and did not sleep well afterwards. The next morning upon awakening my first thought was to resign, to leave the camp, the church, and go elsewhere. I thought that I should find a good woman and marry her. My feelings for Molly, however, were obsessive. I wondered how she would dress that day. How soon would I see her. Then I saw her, standing outside my tent looking in. She was clad in shorts and a blouse, barefoot. She stood there and stared at me. I could not bear the sight of her exquisite beauty; it was too painful for me. Still I looked at her lovliness, resisting illicit, shameful thoughts. For the rest of the day I coped, but almost in a trance. Molly seemed always to be within ten feet of me, staring at me, her young flesh enticing. I so wanted to kiss her pouty lips, so expressive, although I fought the notion of doing such a thing. I knew that she would let me do that and more, much more. The little girl was infatuated with me in her innocence, but I knew that I loved her. That night, when the camp was silent and I lay awake on my cot, Molly entered my tent, as I knew and feared she would. I was resolved to resist my feelings for her and not take advantage of the little girl. She stood close by my cot and looked down on me with an expression that was neither happy nor sad. It was a look of wonder that I could not comprehend. She knelt on the floor next to my cot and just stared at me, her face inches from mine. Her lips were slightly apart and I could see the tips of her upper teeth, white and even. I did not know what motivated her, what she saw in me, but I was in real physical pain because of her; my throat ached. I got up from the cot and pulled her to her feet. My fingers tingled at the touch of her bare arm. I told her that it was time for sleep, that we needed our rest. The girl then leaned against my body, her arms at her side, her head on my chest. Her lovely golden hair tickled my chin, and again I smelled her aroma. I dared not touch her, but she touched me. She placed her hands on my shoulders for leverage, leaned up and pressed her mouth against mine. That kiss was so innocent, so inexperienced; her lips were slack and unpuckered. I did not kiss back, despite my desire. I placed my hands on her pale cheeks and gently seperated us. She smiled quickly into my face, radiantly. I had never seen her more beautiful. She then left my tent. She never spoke a word during her visit to me, which seemed to have lasted forever, but was over, in fact, in just a few minutes. The next morning I realized that Molly was my girl, although I did not have a clue about what I was to do with her. My first thought was a mental calculation: in less than six years she would be of legal age, and I would be just thirty. I was thinking of marriage. Then I scolded myself at my naivete; her infatuation would certainly not last the Summer. Still, I looked about for her in camp. In fact, I followed her around, gazing at the lovely softness of her young body. She knew when I was near and always turned her head and smiled at me. I was totally smitten. That night it was quite warm and I lay on the sand listening to the waves, knowing that Molly would find me. It was after midnight and no one was about. Molly quietly lay down beside me and I felt happy that she did. She nestled to me and I put my arm around her, feeling the warmth of her skin through her blouse as I stroked her back. I felt free to touch her without guilt or remorse. I could kiss her and feel her flesh, because my love for her entitled me. My confusion and frustrations resulted in such a rationalization: there was no objective morality, just love. I had planned nothing, nor did I have a goal. I would let Molly love me however she wanted and ask nothing of her in return. I placed my hand on her upper arm and was aroused by the softness of her flesh. She raised her head from my chest and looked into my eyes. Then she kissed me. I did not push her away. I taught her how to kiss properly. For uncounted minutes our lips were pressed together and then, tentatively, my tongue darted out and touched her lips. Her tongue immediately met mine and our kissing became intensely passionate. She was lying half on top of me with my arms around her. Her blouse had pulled up somewhat and I found my hand on the bare skin of her lower back. As we kissed I ran my hand up under her blouse and fondled her back all the way to her shoulder. My thumb poked at her side and she raised herself slightly so that I could cup her left breast. It was small but almost filled my hand. I felt its hard nipple tickle my palm. I had never before felt such erotic softness. Still kissing, I rolled the little girl onto her back so I could explore her titties. I quickly unbuttoned her blouse and saw in the moonlight her firm mounds surmounted by roseate tips. I broke the kiss and rushed my mouth to suckle the soft lovliness of her pubescent breasts. She fondled my head and mewled. As I ravished her titties my hand dared to find its way to her thighs, touching one, kneading it high up near her shorts. I was so aroused that I suddenly had an orgasm and messed my undershorts. As I groaned, my mouth on a tittie, I clutched her groin and tried to give my Molly pleasure with my fingers. I was not in the correct spot and the girl pulled my hand higher as we writhed in sexual excitment. I raised my head to hers and we resumed kissing as I masturbated the little girl. She gasped and then cried out into my mouth as I fingered her to a series of orgasms. Finally we quit and I held her lovingly in my arms. We fell soundly asleep after that first sexual experience for the both of us and awoke shortly before dawn. We then kissed some more, looked into each other's face and pleged love words. In time we married. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |