The Preacher
I was raised in the 1960s on a small farm near the town of Dozier, Alabama, a tiny rural community located in the southern part of the state, about an hour and a half south of Montgomery.
Our farm was quite small, with only two cows and a handful of chickens. Because of this, my father worked a regular job at the grain processing plant located about forty minutes away in Goshen. This meant that my mother and I were responsible for the daily tasks around the house and barn, which mainly involved feeding the animals, milking the cows, and collecting eggs from the chicken coop each day.
It was a relatively meager and isolated existence for the most part... our closest neighbor was over half a mile away... so I grew up rather introverted and shy, with very limited socializing opportunities outside of church and school.
Every Sunday my parents drove us into Dozier for weekly services at the town’s local chantry, after which we’d always stop off at the general store to re-stock the necessary food and sundries for the house.
Every weekday during the school year I’d catch the bus at the end of our long dusty driveway, then endure the tedious ride through the farms and ramshackle houses... picking up other students along the way... until we finally arrived at the schoolhouse. After school was over, I’d reverse the process... taking another dreary bus ride to get back home in the afternoon.
I actually liked school... at least it was a chance to interact with other people my age. But I was quiet and very reserved, so I really didn’t have a lot of friends.
I started getting a bit more attention... at least from the guys... during my freshman year in high school, once my breasts started to develop.
By the time I was a sophomore, I had perky, C-cup boobs that jiggled around a lot underneath my simple clothes... filling out my dresses and sweaters nicely... and I sensed that I was beginning to turn a few more heads just about everywhere I went. I wasn’t all that pretty in the traditional sense of the word, but in those days... and in a tiny town like Dozier... decent looks and a nice body seemed to go a long way.
By the end of my junior year, my breasts were even bigger... and pretty hard to miss... especially since I didn’t wear a bra very often, and I seemed to have perpetually stiff nipples creating obvious bumps in whatever dress or top I had on. I couldn’t help but notice that my classmates... and even some of the teachers... struggled to keep from staring at my wobbly chest whenever I passed them in the halls.
I was still fairly diffident, and a bit of a wallflower, but I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed the attention I was getting at school... even though it was mostly sneaky and furtive stuff... like little side glances at my tits in the classroom, or guys copping a feel whenever we were out of sight of our teachers.
But... even with the surreptitious ogling and occasional fondling... I was still extremely shy... and as I finished up my junior year and headed into the summer before my senior year... I still hadn’t had any real boyfriends.
At that point, I wasn’t actually a virgin anymore, thanks to an older cousin that my family had visited in Lawrenceburg, Tennessee during the previous summer. We stayed at his parents’ ranch for a whole week... and on the second day we were there, he’d taken me out to their barn, bent me over a bale of hay, and fucked me from behind... promptly blasting his load of cum all over my ass cheeks and lower back... while the horses and goats simply ate their feed and ignored us.
By the time my family’s visit was over five days later, he’d fucked me at least once every day we were there... some days two or three times... usually in the barn... but sometimes out in the woods, or behind the tool shed, or sprawled out on the picnic table in their back yard while our parents were running errands in town.
In retrospect, he didn’t really know what he was doing... and, to be fair, neither did I... but, by the third time he fucked me, I have to admit... I really enjoyed it... and found myself eagerly looking forward to the next opportunity we’d find to do it again.
