Fertile Histories

By Jess Thick

Three women in three different eras - Puritan seductress, a 1920s phone operator, and a Victorian Widow and the men who adore them.

Three fertile women in three historical periods find their husbands. Some rich, some French - all erotic.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.B. Black
• Release date: Mar 18, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005043292

Jess Thick

Jess adores the steamy side of romance, exploring the quick scenes that leave your heart fluttering as strong, fertile heroines find their Happily Ever Afters!

Book preview

Fertile Histories

A Collection of Erotic Historical Shorts

Jess Thick

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Wrecking the Minister

The Fertile Widow’s Torrid Affair

Wooing the Fertile Widow

The Operator’s Dangerous Affair

WRECKING THE MINISTER

A Taboo Puritan Reverse Harem Erotic Short

Jess Thick

Wrecking the Minister by Jess Thick

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

WRECKING THE MINISTER

Copyright © 2019 Jess Thick

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior permission in writing of the publisher.

She came like a force of nature. No temple of chastity and goodly works could stop her covetous heart, and with a bright twinkle in her enchanting blue eyes, Reverence Stradford haunted the preacher’s church like a bad spirit. Daily, she would come. Her dresses always seemed to cling to her curves unlike the other women. Her full bosom threatened to burst forth as her nipples - peaked beneath the fabric.  She was the visage of temptation, and try as he might the good minister, Hezekiah Barebone, could not be free of her.  On one sorrowful Tuesday, his great strength broke.

Mistress Stradford, Minister Barebone greeted. His eyes unwillingly traced over her curves. Are you in need of guidance?

Oh yes, she purred. Raising her hand, she untied her bonnet, removing the fabric to allow her black hair to pool around her shoulders in loose curls. 

Cover yourself! You are in a house of God! 

Reverence laughed - light and melodious and enchanting. A sound which drew him near to swooning. Within his trousers, his cock twitched, hardening as she drew closer, allowing the white of her bonnet to fall to the ground in the aisle. 

I think he would be pleased, dear minister, if we worshiped his creation this way, don’t you? the wanton jezebel drawled. Her voice curled around him. Enthralling him to mischief - to the lustful wanton levity which he warned his parishioners away from in his daily sermons. Her long fingers trailed down his chest. Isn’t it the truest sign of all? The truest gift - go forth and multiply?

Her breath - floral and fragrant - fanned over him, and like a beast, he could hold himself back no more. He lunged forward. His hands curled around her back, sliding over the smooth fabric and buttons of her dress as he smashed their lips together. She kissed like a serpent. Her mouth a haven for something sugary sweet - dangerous and gluttonous, but he drank from her lips, hungry for whatever sucor she could provide.  

His hands rose to curl into the dark locks of her hair. Tearing his lips from her, he pressed his face within the black, smelling the perfume - a delicate bouquet of summer - which radiated from her hair. Like pure sunshine. An angel made flesh or temptation. Cruel and heavenly. 

Her hands, however, drew him from his trousers. Wet poured from the tip. She smeared it up and down his shaft, pulling him quickly to full hardness, and when she pressed him down into a pew, she threw her leg over his thigh - straddling him before she guided him within her, reveling nothing hid beneath her skirts. A sinful secret which he would never be able to unknown. Minister Barebone would imagine her like this always. Bare and waiting and wet - so very wet - as she slid down onto his cock, taking him easily within her slick channel. Her sex milked him, rippling around him. 

She rode him. Reverence rose and fell, her thighs strong about his as she balanced with her hands on his shoulders. Tilting her head back, she grunted, moaning and gasping as she bounced on his cock, burying him deep within her before rising to leave him sheltered beneath her skirts but almost entirely out of her soft warmth.

Do you like it? she asked, rocking her hips to squeeze around him. Don’t I feel good around you?