Reassigned - FChapter 3: Physiological free porn video

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When Jen Blake’s alarm woke her, David’s arm was draped over her. That was fine, a luxury even in warmer weather. His erection was pressed against her, which wasn’t so fine. Although David might not have any work deadlines, this was Sunday morning and she had to lead a service in a few hours.

Since he didn’t do anything, though, she didn’t say anything. She hit the alarm, lifted his arm, and went to run her bath while he slept in.

His alarm sounded while she was drying off. She abandoned the bathroom to him and dressed in the bedroom. He cooked them breakfast before taking his own bath. After that, she was a pastor rather than a wife. The only attention she could spare for David was a brief feeling of satisfaction when she heard his voice on the first hymn. She told herself that any pastor would enjoy having that voice in the congregation, but probably others would enjoy it less than she did. She’d really fallen in love with his voice before she’d fallen in love with him.

They had Sunday dinner with the Bryants. “We’ll miss you, pastor,” Elaine Bryant said. Jen had never persuaded most of her congregation to call her by name, and it was much too late now to make an issue of it.

“I’ll miss you, too. David won’t miss the commute, though.”

“Your new church is real close to the seminary, isn’t it?”

“Walking distance,” David said.

“Yeah,” said Tom Bryant. “But, the way you walk, so’s anywhere.” People in Independence joked about the amount of walking David did. He’d given up his bike, local roads having lots of traffic and no sidewalks, but he still walked miles whenever he could. The amount David walked would be extreme anywhere, even in Chicago, but country folk walked much less than urbanites did.

“So,” David said on their drive back, “tomorrow, we both have off. Want to do something special? Picnic?”

“Sounds great,” she said. “Do you think the weather will co- operate?” There were clouds in the sky even then.

“Man proposes; God disposes. Let’s keep up our side.”

“Okay. Picnic lunch tomorrow. God willing and the creek don’t rise.”

He laughed. “God willing and the rain doesn’t fall.”

Sunday a week from today would be Pentecost, and she’d preach on the second chapter of Acts. At least 90% of the preachers in the Conference would be dealing with that, maybe 99%. That didn’t stop David from taking the Gospel for their Sunday after- supper conversation.

Upstairs, David stripped her slowly. He kissed each newly- uncovered piece of skin and then returning to kiss her mouth. “Lie on your stomach,” he said. When she did, he kissed her back while stroking between her thighs. When his mouth reached the back of her neck, the sensations were too great. She turned over.

His hand went to her mound as his mouth went to her breasts. Even then, he teased her. When he was kneeling between her legs and kissing her thighs, she could stand no more. “David,” she said and pulled his head where she needed it.

His tongue on her lower lips brought her higher and higher. When he concentrated on her clitoris, it took her over. Her heat flared within her, flared again and again.

He cuddled her collapsed body while her spirit returned to it. “Sweet Jen,” he said, “darling Jennifer.” When she turned her face to him, he kissed her. His kisses traced the same route over her body as before, and her response was as enthusiastic. When she was at the edge, though, she wanted more than his tongue.

When she tugged on his shoulders, he came back up the bed and kissed her. She reached down to put his erection where it belonged. “Jen!” he said as he entered her. He rested on her, spread her lower lips, filled her.

His motions within her took her over. “Jen,” he said again as her spasms shook her. Then he was throbbing within her. She tightened her legs and arms around him, tightened a more important part around a more important part of him. When she relaxed, he moved aside.

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Reassigned FChapter 4 Reassigned

There were months in which the countryside around Independence, Illinois, was beautiful. March, thought Jen Blake, was definitely not one of them. She’d just come back from visiting three different homebound parishioners; her hair was damp, and her shoes were soaked. Her internal state was no better than her external one. The phone rang. “Independence United Methodist Church,” she said into it. “Reverend Blake, please.” “Speaking.” “This is Terry Metzger. I’m superintendent of the...

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“Get it, will you?” Jen called from the bathroom. Get what? Oh, yes. The phone was ringing. Since the phone was never for him, David had learned to ignore it. And it was especially unlikely to be for him on a Saturday. “Independence United Methodist Church.” “Professor David Blake, please.” It was for him. “Speaking.” “This is Terry Metzger. I’m superintendent of the Northern District.” “Yes, Reverend Metzger.” Jen came out of the bathroom and looked a question to him. “Bob Lawrence,”...

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