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In THE PREACHER’S WIFE, Maggie MacDonald is one of those outwardly proper and quite normal people. Though she is a preacher’s wife, there lies a powerful urge to gratify her lusts, to wallow in the flesh of others. This urge lies coiled like a snake waiting only for the proper stimulus to arouse it.
THE PREACHER’S WIFE — a shocking novel about a society that often ignores some of its most important problems.
No boy had ever gotten this far with her! Maggie shivered at the delicious play of his hands beneath her sweater. Loren had unhooked her bra so that he could feel her luscious tits. He now had them stinging with delight. The mounds of flesh seemed to have doubled in size as he massaged them.
Other boys had played with her tits. Maybe they didn’t work on them with the skill of this tall, handsome senior. Still, they had gotten to them. Maggie was accustomed to the boys going ape over her voluptuous breasts. She had given token resistance to Loren as he lay beside her on the campus grass and began to fondle her. She did not put up a protest for several reasons.
Everybody else was probably doing at least as much in the darkness of the evening. She could hear the rustle of clothes, the soft panting and moaning as perhaps twenty other couples took advantage of the area of the campus humorously referred to as “The Factory”. She had asked about the name her first week at Hillcrest College and was told that it was where all the coeds were made.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.