Our new Assistant Minister is as cute as an undone button on a buxom woman's blouse. She's got wild curly hair, wide wondrous eyes, a sweet smile and huge breasts that swing and jostle underneath her oversized sweaters. She's all eager and earnest and young and naive and incredibly delectably fuckable.

The older men and women of the congregation circle around her like big cats around a young gazelle, sizing her up while they chat her up and she chats back obliviously.

Her husband, who is slightly less small town Americana and slightly more aware of his surroundings, is the only one made nervous by all the attention his wife is receiving. He circles too, in a predatory, territorial kind of way, almost daring anyone to make a move.

But we pay him no mind.