Holy Field Sermon
17 hours ago

The Colorado air hung thick and sweet, scented with pine and the distant promise of rain. We’d escaped, really escaped, for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The weight of the church, the endless cycle of baptisms and Sunday sermons, the constant demands of our two children – it had all become a suffocating blanket. So, we packed the car, a beat-up Ford Explorer we affectionately called “The Beast,” and pointed it west, towards the mountains and the anonymity of the open road. My wife, Sarah, was a force of nature disguised as a woman of the cloth. Twenty pounds of sculpted muscle and curves, she possessed an undeniable magnetism that even the most pious amongst us struggled to resist. We'd been reading Marriage Heat stories together lately, a shared guilty pleasure that had ignited a fire within us, a desperate need to reconnect with the primal urges that had been simmering beneath the surface of our lives.
As we cruised down I-80, Sarah devoured tales of uninhibited passion, her eyes wide with a mixture of longing and excitement. One story, in particular, caught her attention – a particularly graphic account of a wife engaging in cowgirl riding until both partners reached a feverish climax. She turned to me, her voice husky with anticipation, and said, “I want to do that to you.” My cock instantly tightened, a surge of heat flooding through me. Her suggestion wasn't entirely out of character; Sarah had always been adventurous, a wild card in a world of beige conformity.
She flipped through the pages of the tablet, stopping on another story about a husband away on a business trip, his wife desperate for his touch. As she read, she began to tremble, her breath growing shallow, her body arching in response to the vivid descriptions. When she finished, she discarded the tablet, a mischievous glint in her eyes. With swift, practiced movements, she pulled down her skirt, revealing her generous cleavage and the tantalizing curve of her clitoris. For the next five minutes, she rubbed her pussy with fervent intensity, moaning with pleasure, her juices starting to flow freely. I watched, mesmerized, my own arousal building with each passing moment. I reached across the seat and gently massaged her chest, feeling the heat radiate through my fingertips as her skin flushed with desire. “Not yet, pastor,” she whispered, her voice thick with anticipation.
She then found another story, this one depicting a wife kneeling on all fours, her husband pounding her from behind, showering her with hot, thick cum. The image was so explicit, so visceral, that it nearly brought tears to my eyes. Sarah gripped the seat, her muscles tensing, her breathing ragged. She spread her legs, placing her feet on the dashboard, a clear signal of her readiness. As we drove deeper into Nebraska, she began to stroke her clitoris with increasing speed and force, her moans escalating into desperate pleas. Each movement was deliberate, each thrust more intense than the last. Soon, she began to convulse, her body writhing in a frenzy of pleasure. Then, with a final, explosive push, she released, a torrent of cum erupting from her pussy, splattering across the dashboard and seats. The force of the release sent a jolt through my body, and I instinctively grabbed her hair, pulling her close, drawing her into my embrace.
As she recovered from her first orgasm, she looked at me with an expression of pure bliss, her eyes blazing with passion. “Pull this car over when you can,” she commanded, her voice barely a whisper. Without hesitation, I gripped the steering wheel and signaled to the right, pulling the Explorer onto the shoulder of the highway. We found an empty spot in a desolate rest area, a haven of solitude in the vast expanse of the Nebraska plains. Stepping out of the car, I saw a group of truckers huddled around a dilapidated picnic table, oblivious to our presence. They offered no resistance, their attention fixed on their own conversations and cigarettes.
As Sarah changed into a lace negligee, her movements slow and deliberate, I retrieved our pleasure toys from the back of the car. We settled into the back seat, the leather seats creaking beneath our weight. Sarah took the lead, unzipping my pants and pulling down my jeans to reveal my throbbing cock. She began sucking on it with a ravenous hunger, her lips parting to show her pink, glistening tongue. I reached around her, grabbing her ample backside and using two fingers to stimulate her pussy, while with one finger, I massaged her ass. She loved this combination, the simultaneous stimulation of multiple orifices, the intense pleasure that followed. As she continued to suck, I massaged her pussy, feeling the heat build within her, her body trembling with anticipation.
The air crackled with unspoken desires, each movement charged with electricity. Her hips began to sway rhythmically, mimicking the motions of a skilled dancer. With a final, desperate thrust, she released a massive cum shot into my mouth, the taste both salty and sweet. Her hips continued to move, driven by the sheer force of her pleasure, her body writhing in ecstasy. I intertwined my hand in her beautiful, long hair, pulling her closer, deepening the intimacy between us. She leaned into me, her lips brushing against mine, sharing the juices that flowed between us. She looked up at me, her eyes glistening with arousal, a faint smear of cum clinging to her lower lip. "You're a good pastor," she whispered, her voice husky with pleasure. "A very, very good pastor." Her pussy was always eager for a good rubbing or a good fucking, and tonight, it was receiving its due. The world outside faded away, replaced by the intoxicating sensation of her body against mine, a perfect blend of lust, desire, and pure, unadulterated pleasure. We continued our shared indulgence, lost in a world of our own creation, a world where the boundaries of propriety no longer existed. It was an escape, a release, a celebration of our forbidden desires. And as the sun began to set over the Nebraska plains, casting long shadows across the desolate landscape, we knew that we had found something truly special, something that would forever change the course of our lives.
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