The Book of Trinity
                        by "Trinity Barrett"
                       (a pseudonym of Wilma)



                            Chapter One

     My name is Trinity Barrett.  I'm a natural blond and
undisguisedly, outrageously, gloriously beautiful.  I don't try to
hide it.  I love it.  Wherever I go, no one can avoid looking at
me.  I look back and smile because I really understand what it must
be like for them.  For some reason, they never expect to be
acknowledged, especially men who can only dream of goddesses and
can't believe we exist outside of magazines and movies.  Even women
study me in disbelief.
     I'm sexy.  Can't help it.  I love sex.  All kinds.  I'm that
way because of Jonathan, my first lover and still my best lay. 
Reverend Jonathan Barrett.  Surprised?  Yes, Jonathan and Trinity
Barrett, still lovers in spite of the story I'm going to tell you.
     I said Jonathan was my first lover.  He was not my first fuck,
though.  He was my second fuck, a couple of weeks or so after I
fucked James.  I don't count dildoing myself senseless several
times a week before I took James into the woods.
     We were 18 and seniors at Doolittle High School in Reno.  My
class had voted to have our graduation party in a wooded area of
the Sierra Nevada foothills.  I was horny as a two-pussied mink and
decided I wanted to fuck the class valedictorian.  James was
intelligent, quiet, and afraid of girls, and I figured it would be
his first time and he'd be safe and clean.  I was right about that
but wrong about thinking a genius would learn so fast he would know
what to do.  I told him I wanted to talk to him about what I should
take in college.  I needed his advice.  We managed to slip away
from the crowd for a walk through the woods.
     I was wearing short shorts and had the ends of my shirt tied
in a bow at my cleavage.  I led him down to a clearing near a
stream and leaned against a tree.  The poor boy.  His eyes darted
all over the trees and the stream and his hands and the flora and
the fauna trying to avoid looking where his soul wanted to look. 
I'll never forget his moment of surrender.  He was trying to talk
but couldn't get his breath or keep his concentration.  Finally, he
just stopped and let it all out in a pitiable sigh and stood there
helplessly looking at my body.
     "Wanna fuck?" I said softly.
     He couldn't answer.  Couldn't move, even.  He stood there
catatonically, his eyes glazing over.  I captured his defenseless
gaze with my sexy blue eyes as I glided to him and unbuttoned his
shorts.  Looking him right in the eye all the while, I reached in
and found his unsoftening cock and played with him slowly.  He
still hadn't moved, but his eyes widened and he took a breath of
air finally.  I sunk slowly to my knees and took his dick in my
mouth and sucked on it.
     He wasn't catatonic all over.  His floppy peter grew in my
mouth and stiffened into a prick so rigid I wondered if it hurt. 
It seemed like it was being engorged with much more blood than it
could hold.  I decided I'd better get it inside me before it
hemorrhaged.  It was so tight a cat couldn't have scratched it.
     Getting him down was no problem.  His legs were already so
wobbly I thought he was going to fall before I could suck as much as
I wanted.  A slight tug on the backs of his knees, and down he came.
I pulled his shorts off underwear and all, eyeing that tight tower
curving toward the sky.  He let out a high, weak moan as I
practically ripped my shirt and shorts off and stood over him.  I
was suddenly in a big hurry and had to have it I-mean-now!
     Forgetting that sensuality is supposed to be slow, I wasn't
gentle with the boy at all.  I sunk down on him and took his hard
swollen organ all the way up in me in one swell foop and used him
mindlessly and viciously, digging my nails into his tits and then
grabbing him by the face and mauling him as I fucked him like a
crazed animal.  I was absolutely demented.  I didn't even feel it
when he shot his heavy teenage loads in me, and then I went into a
rage when his cock shrunk into worthlessness.
     It's possible I lost contact with reality in the heat of my
twin passions of rage and lust.  I don't remember hitting him, but
I know I was momentarily psychotic and I know I left him lying
there bruised and crying.  I was hotter than ever and hated the
little four-eyed bastard for going off like that before I was done
with him.  There was no time for pity or shame.  I had to get to a
dildo I kept in the car before I killed somebody, and I couldn't
have cared less about poor James.
     I broke nails off all ten fingers attacking the glove
compartment and retrieving my dildo, and I raped myself in the
front seat of my Saab with complete abandon.  I dildoed and clawed
myself for a week before I came down far enough to feel sorry for
what I had done to James.  Do you suppose I'm the reason he turned
down his scholarship to Harvard to tour the country as a foil for a
women's wrestling outfit?  I heard he married a body builder after
that and, when she tired of him, joined a feminist cult in
California which worships Inanna and burns wicker men in pagan
rituals.  Oh, well, Blessed be She, but maybe James can switch to
Pan when the Inanna women have used him up.  He did have a nice
cock on him, and it would be a pity for it go to waste altogether
just because a few hundred women here and there prefer each other
or would rather burn wickers than suck wicks.

     The second fuck was different.  Jonathan had preached a
beautiful sermon that evening and had taken me and several other
choir members out to dinner afterward.  We dropped them off one by
one at their respective houses before going to a special getaway
cabin the church provided him as a retreat.  It's a beautiful place
on Lake Tahoe where Jonathan often went to get in touch with
himself and pray and study.  You'll know very shortly why we
weren't afraid to be seen together at Tahoe or anywhere else.
     We'd been there many times before, but some unspoken knowledge
passed between us this time.  Somehow, we knew we were going to
make love.  When we got to the cabin, we sat our bags down and
looked at each other and simply started kissing as though we had
done it all our lives.
     "This is it, isn't it?" I said.  "We're going to make love."
     "Yes."
     "Finally."
     "Finally."
     We got naked unhurriedly, our eyes never leaving each other. 
I got on the huge bed and lay on my stomach facing the foot of the
bed.  He stood in front of me, and I watched his cock harden as his
eyes and his soul took in the beauty of my young body.  We've never
gotten used to seeing each other naked.  Not that we were
inhibited.  Not at all that.  No, I say without need for modesty
that it is the irresistibly lustworthy magnificence of our naked
bodies that stimulates us afresh each time.
     That, and an exciting sense of the forbidden our minds
overcame but which lingered in archetypal uneasiness within our
psyches.
     He moved closer, his great god-cock fully engorged, the base
of his beautiful organ of male lust inches from my face.  His
smooth, bronzed legs and manly body towered over me with its male
power beckoning me, drawing me, pulling me to it like a dynamic,
spiritual force.
     I tilted my head to one side and let my silky blond tresses
cascade across my shoulder to the bed.  I opened my mouth.  He
squatted and pressed the base of his hard prick against my warm,
sensuous young lips.  I sucked gently, chewing, licking the blond
hairs and lip-biting the base of his huge hard-on.
     "Ohhhhh, Baby," he breathed, and he gyrated slowly against my
mouth.  His big dick slid back and forth across my soft young face
as I chewed at the base of it.  He held me by the head and face as
he fucked.  "Oh, Jesus, Jesus, sweet Jesus in Heaven, this is good.
Suck it, suck it, my sweet beautiful young goddess."


     His blending of earnest prayer with the act of mind-bending
sexual pleasure deepened the experience for me.  I often felt as
though Jesus Himself was participating in sex with me, so close did
He seem when I and the first man I had ever known made love.
     Jonathan Barrett had that gift.  Jesus always seemed close,
palpably so, when Jonathan preached or sang in his rich, cracking
baritone.  The hardest of hearts would come to his services with
their cynicism and their prejudices, and they would leave with
Jesus in their hearts and His blessings on their lips.
     Jonathan's presence was a spiritual experience.  His
congregation knew that much.  But I knew much more.  Jonathan naked
with a hard-on was a spine-tingling spiritual experience.  Kissing
Jonathan's hard-on as he fucked on my face was a soul-lifting,
spine-tingling spiritual experience.  Swallowing him or feeling his
god-cock penetrate me and work on me was a soul-lifting, spine-
tingling, ecstatic and profound spiritual experience.
     Drinking his cum or feeling it bathe my insides and instill
peace in my soul and body was an incomparable, supernal
transporting of my entire being into the loving and secure arms of
God Almighty and His angelic hosts, the ultimate spiritual
experience that began with a spinal reflex and culminated in
oneness with God.
     He had turned me over on my back and was wiping his crotch in
my eager young face.  I licked his balls and his crotch and parted
his cheeks so I could service his asshole.  I felt him relax his
sphincters when I touched my tongue to his anus.  He pressed down
slightly and I pulled on him.  My tongue slipped easily up inside
his shitpit, and I heard him groan and swoon as I licked inside him
and tasted him.
     I believed myself to be part of God's ministry.  Because of
me, here was a force to be reckoned with by the Devil and the
powers of darkness:  Jonathan Barrett, a man of God with a full sex
life and free of the guilt and negative energy that consumes so
many of God's people.  Satan didn't have a chance.  Jonathan
brought the Lord with him even to the variety of sex a misguided
world enslaved by fear and ignorance would call perverted.
     His hard-on was all the way down my throat.  He pulled it out
slowly and let me ready myself for the next slow-motion
penetration.  I watched in fascination as his balls loomed down
toward my eyes.  I felt the soft hardness of his big wet fuckstick
sliding in my mouth and pushing at the back of my throat.  My
throat opened miraculously and I felt him slide down it.  I moved
my head back and forth to work his monster cock in my throat and
feel his legs and balls on my face.  I worked his dick with the
muscles in my throat.
     Again he withdrew, and again he eased his hard juicy dick down
my throat.  He slid it out, back in, out again, and back in again.
     He withdrew and stood looking at me for a moment, letting his
gaze glide leisurely over my exquisite nakedness.  He crawled over
me and lay on the bed, holding his hand out to me.  I came to him
and cuddled against him, feeling the manliness of his body against
the womanliness of my own.
     "I'm going to fuck you now, Baby, my wonderful, delicious
young beauty.  I'm going to stick my big hard dick up inside your
young body.  I want to press my nakedness against the soft, god-
given wonders of your magnificent teenage body.  Our souls will
meld as our bodies unite in the holy communion of love."
     "I love you, Daddy.  Fuck me . . . fuck me, Daddy."
     "I love you, my darling daughter."  He gazed into my eyes. 
"My darling Trinity," he whispered, and he kissed me deeply with a
passion known only to those who indulge forbidden lusts.
     I moved against him, sliding my long, beautiful leg up his and
over his hip to his waist.  I hooked my foot under the cheek of his
ass and tugged at him coaxingly.  "Do it to me, Daddy.  Fuck me. 
Fuck me."
     I felt the blunt head of his turgid hugeness probing me,
searching single-mindedly for the juicy opening and the angle of
best entry.  I pushed against it to let him know he had found the
slot, and I gasped when he thrust himself into me.
     "Ohhhh, Daddy!  Daddy . . . .."
     He rolled on top of my luscious youthful body, shoving his
cock deep into me and holding it there at maximum penetration, the
entirety of it buried in his daughter's tight young yoni.
     "Ohhhhh, ohhhh, my Daddy, my Daddy.  I love you, Daddy."  I
gripped him with my legs and wrapped my arms around him.  I
squeezed his big cock with my talented cunt muscles, manipulating
it inside me, gripping it, pulling it, kneading it, pussyloving it.
     "Oh, God, Trinity, my goddess, my love."  He began fucking me
in long, slow strokes, our bodies coupled together inseparably in a
union older than taboo, blessed by the ages before history and
sanctified by human physiology.
     And cursed by every known society, reprehensible and forbidden
in the eyes of the civilized and the savage alike from the cave to
the penthouse.
     Man and woman.
     Father and daughter.
     The Reverend Jonathan Barrett and his lovely princess, his
goddess, his lover, the exquisite product of his loins and the
offspring of a slut, locked in sexual union that consumed us in the
presence of our everlasting Bedmate, the Lord Jesus.  Faster and
faster we fucked, thrusting and writhing, hunching and sliding,
moaning and swooning.  Fucking, fucking, fucking . . . ..
     "Oh, oh, oh," Jonathan panted.
     "I'm cumming, Daddy!  Oh, oh, oh bless Jesus, blessed Jesus,
praise His holy name.  Fuck me Daddy, fuck me Jesus, fuck me Jesus,
fuck me Lord Jesus, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.  Ohhhhh, ahhhhh,
unh, unh, oh Jesus, Jesus, unh, unh -- Unhhhhh!"  I screamed and
buried my face in his neck to muffle it, biting and sucking and
thrusting and bucking and gripping and flailing him with my legs,
pounding him with my hands and fists, fucking like a lamia.
     "Hallelujah!" Jonathan yelled, and his volcanic dick erupted
in the womanquake.  He shot load after load of hot, male love juice
into me.  Powerful, copious flash floods of cum washed the junction
of our lust and bathed us in peace-instilling glory.
     We vibrated together in the embers of our subsiding, glorious
orgasms.  "Bless Jesus, bless Jesus," we moaned in unison, and we
offered our worshipful and grateful praise to our heavenly Bedmate.
     I let the power and the peace of the Godhead flow over me,
soothing my soul and satisfying my every need and longing.  All
human anxiety and striving left me as I surrendered to Him.  I felt
as though I had had sex with God, had received the pure and
powerful cum of Jesus and the filling of the Holy Ghost.  I had
been released from earthly cares and transported into the divine
and restful presence of attending angels.
     "Thank you, Jesus," I breathed gratefully, and I was sure I
heard His voice saying, "I love you, my daughter, my child, my
beautiful Trinity.  I love you."  I slept in peaceful exhaustion
and awoke with the Heavenly Host fucking me again and cumming in me
again.  I slept deeply then, His arms embracing me and holding my
wonderful young body against Him.
     "I love you, Trinity."
     "I love you, Jesus."
     He kissed the tattoo of the cross Jonathan had burned into my
flesh between my pussy and my leg, a mark of my consecration and of
the great love we have for each other.
     I was one with God, His child and His bride.  His rod had
comforted me, and I had brought calmness to his staff.  The lover
of God.  We slept together in profound mutual gratitude and
adoration.
     Jonathan and Trinity.
     Father and daughter.
     The handsome minister of God and the beautiful bride of
Christ.
     Looking back, I can't imagine how I was persuaded to conspire
against my daddy and seek to bring him down.  It is time now to
relate that part of my story and introduce the woman who blinded me
for a while and turned my love for Daddy into a need for revenge.

--end Chapter 1--