The Tempting of a Preacher

Charles stood just outside the doorway as the last few of the congregation filed out of Sunday night service. The sun had set in the middle of his sermon and even with night setting in the heat clung to his skin like a wet blanket. Charles offered a polite smile and his hand as a young woman and her husband stopped in front of him. “Glad to have y’all this evening.” Charles said as the couple each took their turns shaking his hand. “The service was awful nice.” The young woman said in a sweet drawl as her husband nodded in agreement. “Mighty fine service, Preacher. Have yourself a good night.” Charles nodded, “Thank you. Have a good night and hope to see y’all Wednesday.” He called out as they stepped onto the walkway. The church was small, serving a rural community in one of the many hollers nestled in these mountains and valleys. Charles had been here long enough to establish himself among his flock. The congregation had been devastated when the last preacher had been called home to the Lord unexpectedly and were weary of him when he first arrived. Slowly but surely, he had gained their trust and respect and was pleased with the fact he had gained a handful of new members who had dedicated themselves to a more righteous path. Charles leaned against the doorway, enjoying a slight breeze that seemed to be picking up when he heard a match being struck. He turned toward the sound to see an elderly man in overalls lighting the cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He inhaled, the end of his cigarette glowing in the dim light spilling out from the inside of the church. “I can smell rain coming. You smell it, Preacher?” the old man said as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and blew out the smoke. Charles looked out and took a deep breath. “Huh, I guess I can a little bit. Looks like the Lord is gonna bless us with some relief from this heat.” He commented as he turned back to the old man, watching him puff on his cigarette. The old man scoffed, “That’s one way to look at it, Preacher. A storm can bring a lot of things with it. Not all of it good.” The old man took a few steps, his profile seen clearer now as he came to a stop in front of one of the church windows. Charles narrowed his eyes, not recognizing the man from his congregation. “That might be. The Lord always sends the rainbow after the rain. We must remember that even in the darkest of times the He is always with us.” Charles replied. He was hoping that if this man wasn’t a member of the church that maybe he could change that, and Charles had never been one to turn down a chance to minister to folks. The old man turned his head, staring at Charles with a knowing glance. His weathered and gnarled hand brought his cigarette up to his lips. He took a long drag before pulling it away and smirking. “That’s good advice, Preacher.” He breathed out, smoke billowing in front of his face before being carried away by the wind. “Something all of us should remember…even you.”

The old man put his cigarette back in his mouth before slipping his hands into the pockets of his overalls and turning to walk away. Charles didn’t respond but found his words odd as they sent a shiver up his spine. Charles shook it off as he turned back into the church, pushing himself off the doorway as he moved. The main lights that lit the sanctuary flipped off as Charles hit the switch on the wall leaving only the pulpit and altar bathed in an amber glow. He made his way down the aisle, stopping periodically to slip a hymnal back into its proper place on the backs of the pews. As Charles reached the front of the church, he unbuttoned the first few buttons of his white shirt that was tucked into tan slacks. Charles didn’t believe in the trappings and frills that seemed to have a hold on some preachers. The way he saw it being down to earth made him more approachable. It was for that very reason Charles didn’t shout and speak with bravado when he preached. Charles wanted his faithfulness and passion for the Lord to do the talking for him. The wind stirred the air around in the sanctuary as it moved through the open door. Charles cast his gaze up upon the cross sitting behind the altar, Jesus’s body hanging on the crucifix. As he took in the depiction of his savior’s sacrifice and thought back to the words written in crimson that he had read aloud to his flock that very night the door to the church slammed shut. The sound echoed as Charles damn near jumped out of his own skin, making him turn to look at the door. The air felt like it had been sucked out of the room as his heart beat wildly in his chest. He brought his right hand up and pressed it to his heart as he looked over the sanctuary, that end dark from the lights being off. Charles felt on edge as the eerie feeling of being watched made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. The sight of what looked like flowing fabric flashed in his periphery making Charles turn on his heels and look behind him. Just as he did, rain started to pound the roof, beating against the windows as the wind blew hard. “Somebody there?” Charles called out as he carefully stepped up toward the pulpit, he tilted his head and kept his breathing slow. Another flash caught his eye and he turned, not seeing anything as his eyes followed around the perimeter of the sanctuary. Charles’ eyes made it back to the doors, his body now facing the pews. He squinted seeing what looked to be a form in the dark. “Now look here, who’s there?” Charles called out again with a stern voice. Suddenly the form was gone and Charles went still as his head tried to make sense of what was happening. A thud sounded from the last pew that reminded him of preachers he had seen slam their bibles during particularly zealous sermons. It sounded again, the sound bouncing across the aisle. That thud started to move and the closer it got the louder it became. Charles took a few steps, tripping over himself as he tried to move away from the charging sound. His chest heaved with panicked breaths. He stumbled back into the altar nearly knocking it over, causing a figure of Jesus to tumble onto the floor. It shattered, sending pieces of plaster across the red carpet then suddenly it was quiet again except for the rain coming down outside. Charles was trembling, his shaky breaths sharp. He swallowed hard, straightening his posture as he carefully pulled away from the altar. He finally blinked as he glanced down at the broken relic then back up to the end of the room. Charles’ eyes were trained on those double doors when lightning lit up the sky. As the light flashed bright it illuminated the room and, in that instance, thunder cracked so loud he heard the glass in the windows rattle. It echoed like a warning into the valley. In that brief flash of bright light Charles saw a woman. As the room went dark again, he stood frozen at what he had seen. Soon that specter was stepping into the light, coming out of the shadows with soft midnight black curls stained with strands of white that accented sun-kissed skin. The evidence of faint crow’s feet brought out piercing brown eyes. Charles couldn’t look away as she approached. She stirred in him a heavy mix of desire and fear. Charles might be a preacher, but he was still a man. The woman stopped at the first pew and his eyes flicked down. Her ample bust was covered by the top of a floral dress covered in tiny pale pink flowers. It was cinched in to show off a set of rounded hips that were a touch wide and Charles felt himself blush when his eyes met hers once more. She was both wholesome and seductive as the corner of her full rose-colored lips curled into something akin to a smirk. “My apologizes, Preacher. Didn’t mean to scare you.” The woman didn’t look away as she gracefully stepped to have a seat in the pew and Charles watched as she crossed her long, smooth legs. Her voice husky and dripping off her tongue like honey from a honeycomb. It was as if the melody seeped into his skin and into his blood, sending heat all through him. Charles searched for the strength to speak but he drew a blank. “Listen to that storm…” her words breathy as she just turned her head enough to show her profile. “Sure is coming down, isn’t it?” She turned her head back when Charles didn’t answer, her expression soft and beckoning. “I promise I won’t hurt you, Preacher. Not my intent at all.” He shivered at her words. His gut and head both screaming at him to run for the hills, to call out for the protection of God and rebuke this temptress. That protest fell on deaf ears as the smell of roses filled his nostrils. The scent caressed at his senses as he breathed it in, noticing the slight hint of smoke on the end. Charles exhaled a shaky breath before managing to speak. “Who…who are you?” She smirked again, playfully kicking her foot and folding her hands in her lap. “I’m whoever you need me to be, Preacher.” She raised a single eyebrow and chuckled. “I’m whatever you desire most.”

Charles’ face contorted into a look of pure confusion. “I don’t know what you mean by that.” He lied. Perhaps not logically, but something in his soul said otherwise. Whoever or whatever this was looked like a woman straight from his fantasies. The fantasies he often had to ask God’s forgiveness for…for being weak and lustful. She peered into his soul, their lingering eye contact making Charles feel weak kneed. “I’m surprised at you, Preacher…lying in God’s house that way. And here I thought you were a good boy.” Boy. The word rang in his ears. Boy, oh boy did that do things to him. Charles’ eyes grew heavy lidded, and his muscles clenched. His thoughts raced as he ran through the scenarios where she could call him that again. She let out a dark chuckle under her breath, “Are you a good boy, Preacher?” As she asked him that he felt his cock twitch with the beginnings of arousal. Heavy breaths were her response and each time he filled his lungs he got a heavy dose of that intoxicating scent. “That’s how I knew you were here.” She sucked in a deep breath and softly moaned, closing her eyes as she gently exhaled. “Mm, so sweet and faithful and yet, there’s a bite to it. Like someone who’s got something dark brewing in them.” Her eyes opened back up, staring into his from under thick lashes. “And I know exactly what that darkness is. A sexual hunger so strong that it could call for me. Just so desperate. So needy.” Charles let that implication sink in before shamelessly nodding his head. It was then Charles realized how weak he was, how flawed and sinful he was. Charles was standing on the raised pulpit just below the feet of his crucified savior, listening to this unholy creature speak to him in such a manner that it had his cock pressing against the zipper of his slacks. “Aww, I know.” She said as she made her way to her feet and stepped to the edge of the pulpit. She cooed, the sound of her voice making Charles’ head swim. Reminded him of the few times in his younger days when he had one too many sips of his grandaddy’s shine. She reached out with a steady and confident hand, her fingers long and delicate. She was radiating heat that wasn’t quite normal. Charles found it both off-putting and decadent. Her hand made contact, landing a touch just above his knee before traveling upward. Charles shuddered as he shook his head managing to stumble back once more. “What are you doing to me?” His own voice breathy and low. “What do you want?” He demanded as he lifted his hands to his head and pressed his fingers to his temples. Charles was trying desperately to fight whatever was happening to him. “It isn’t about what I want, Preacher. Not entirely.” As Charles looked back up to look at this woman that was pulling at the last threads of his resolve she was gone. Another shaky gasp hit the air as Charles franticly looked around the room in search of her. “You called for me. All those deep desires you’ve been pushing down all these years have reared their ugly head. Never understood why someone would want to repress those feelings. Lust especially.” Her voice sounded hollow as it bounced around the room, but she was nowhere in sight. “It’s sinful to lust. In order to serve the Lord, we all must…fight those feelings.” Charles responded as he turned to look toward the double doors wondering if he could escape. Suddenly he felt his body tense as that immense heat surrounded him like a shroud. Her hands slipped over his hips and up toward his torso. “It might be a sin, Preacher…but it feels so good.” She whispered before he felt the tip of her tongue trace the shell of his ear. That heat seared into his skin and the sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Charles groaned in response, instinctively leaning back into her touch as her hands moved further up toward his chest. “That’s it, Preacher. Give in to me. Let it all go.” she whispered again as her fingers curled in, grasping at the fabric of his shirt. Charles reached for her hands, letting his fingers touch. Another crack of lightning flashed across the sky followed by another clap of thunder. “Tell her to stop. Tell her that your heart and soul belong to the Almighty. Tell her to be gone from this holy place and beg on your knees for God’s forgiveness for letting things get this far out of control.” Those words rang in Charles’ head as he sank deeper into her spell. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her hands swiftly ripping his shirt open to expose the skin underneath.

How could he resist her? She was everything he could possibly ask for. A force, commanding his attention with control. She knew exactly what to say and how to say it. Even her apparent maturity turned him on more than any woman his age ever could. Her hands reached for his chest, finding his nipples and rolling them between her skilled fingers. Charles whimpered; the sound needy as his breath caught, his cock now rock hard and aching for attention. Charles gripped her wrists. “Please…. please.” he whimpered again. Charles wasn’t sure if he was asking her to please stop or please keep going as her fingers pinched and tugged at his now hardened buds. “Your body betrays you, Preacher. Not so pious now that you’re on the edge, huh?” she taunted. “Don’t pretend with me. Don’t pretend like you don’t fist that impressive cock every moment you get to the thought of doing something just like this. I know all too well what you really want.” She paused with a soft moan as she let go of his nipples. “What you really need…” she added just as a hand slipped over his collarbone and wrapped around his throat with a firm squeeze. The gesture made Charles let out a lewd sounding moan. He could feel wetness forming from his now leaking cock. She sighed as she leaned her head down to tease her tongue along the side of Charles’ neck before sinking her teeth into his flesh. “Aahh!” he yelped. “Jesus…help me, Jesus!” Charles cried out in a futile attempt to bring himself back out of this trance he was in. A dark and low laugh vibrated against his skin as she pulled away to lick the mark she had left. “Call whoever’s name you have to, Preacher…but we both know you want this.” Charles whimpered again as she spoke. She was right, right about it all.

Defeated and trembling Charles gave a nod followed by a weak sounding whine. “Don’t stop. Please…I need this desperately. To be used. To not have to think about anything.” Charles admitted. Her fingers pressed into his veins, slowing the circulation of blood flow, and it made Charles’ eyes flutter closed. “I know. I know, Preacher. It gets so tiresome carrying so much weight and not getting any sort of relief. Just needing someone to take away that burden and use your body in the way it was meant to be used.” Charles completely gave in as her free hand slid down his torso to his belt. Her fingers worked diligently to loosen the buckle then pop the button on his slacks. Her hand was so close to his bulge that the anticipation of what she might do had him right on the edge of finishing before she ever touched him. “Now you just be a good boy and do as I say. I promise it will be worth it, Preacher.” With that her fingers pulled at the zipper, gingerly pulling down until it stopped. “I’ll be good. Whatever you want me to do…just ask.” Charles said eagerly. “Pull those slacks down and free that aching cock for me.” She commanded as she pressed her soft body into Charles. Without hesitation Charles tugged and pulled at both his slacks and boxers until both pieces hung around his ankles. His cock sprang free, throbbing with each beat of his heart, and wet at the tip. Her hand glided down over his pubic bone to wrap around his cock. Charles practically came from that feeling of heat and electricity as it shot through his member. Both of his hands reached back and weaved their way through her salt and pepper curls. “Thank you. God, yes…thank you.” Charles moaned as her hand started to stroke. Her fingers and palm slid along his shaft, squeezing the head of his cock before stroking back toward the base. “Look at you. Nothing more than a slut. Standing on this pulpit where you preach your sermons with your pants around your ankles like a common whore.” She teased as her hand kept moving. Despite her degrading tone Charles loved it. He wanted more because he knew she was right yet again. Charles moaned as her steady strokes started to pick up speed. “Ooh. Oh my…fuck…” Charles bit out as her hand twisted each time she pulled back. “Such language, Preacher. Makes me wonder what else that tongue is capable of.” His grip in her hair tightened as she picked up speed again. Her palm now wet from his leaking tip and only adding to the already delicious heat that poured off her hand.

At the mention of his tongue his mind instantly imagined burying his face between her thick thighs until she made a mess. “Let me…ooh god...let me be a good boy and show you.” Charles begged as he started to thrust his hips to meet her hand. She took ahold of his earlobe with her teeth and bit into his flesh again as she pressed in a little more into his neck. That swimming feeling making his vision fuzzy and his dick pulse with excitement. “Perhaps I’ll let you, Preacher. First things first though…I want to see such a pious man bust his load all over this pulpit like the dirty boy he is.” Charles’ eyes rolled back into his head before shutting them. It was pure ecstasy and he groaned loudly as his hips moved faster to fulfill her want. She started to move to meet him, softly moaning encouragement into his ear. Charles’ muscles tensed as he panted, his hips pounding into her hand. “Can I…fuck…can I cum? Please?” he pleaded as his thighs quivered. She leaned in so her lips brushed his ear as she spoke. “Cum for me.” Her words the final shove Charles needed and on command he started to cum. Her hand kept stroking as rope after rope shot forth with animal like grunts and groans. His seed landing at his feet and on that red carpet before him, his body racked with pleasure that rolled through every limb. Even as Charles’ orgasm started to subside, she kept stroking his cock, each stroke more intense than the one before it. Charles looked down as her hand moved, watching as his overstimulated and still hard cock twitched. He squirmed in her grasp, whimpering out, “Aah! It’s too much!” Her hand let loose of his neck, gently dragging her nails down his body as her other hand stroked a few more times before letting go. Charles was already missing her touch on his cock as he shakily untangled his fingers from her hair. “Thank you.” He breathed out. He slightly turned his head as the temptress took a few steps back and hoisted herself onto the altar. “On your knees and crawl.” With her command she pulled her skirt up while spreading her legs. Charles’ eyes went dreamy and wide as he saw her pussy. It was perfect and noticeably wet which made his mouth water. Charles dropped to his knees and leaned forward onto his hands to crawl toward her. He licked his lips as he came to sit at her feet, looking up at her. “Please, may I taste you?” arousal lacing his voice as he tore his gaze away from what he most desired to look up at her. She smirked as one hand grabbed a handful of his hair and the other reached for the fabric at her bust and snatched down. Her full and ample breasts came spilling out from the top of her dress. They were heavy and her pert dark pink nipples hard. Charles whined as they slightly bounced from the drop. His hands, still shaking, tentatively reached up and he held his breath as he cupped her in his hands. “They’re perfect.” He groaned as he squeezed, gently rolling her breasts in his palms. She moaned as she licked her lips. “That’s enough talking.” She used her grip in his hair to push his face between her legs, pressing his mouth to her wet pussy lips. His cock leaked again at her taste as he stuck out his tongue and started to sate his ravenous appetite. “Mm, that’s it. Eat that sweet little pussy.” She moaned out, her hips gently rocking forward into Charles’ face. His tongue focused on her swollen clit, pulling it between his lips and sucking for a few moments before bringing his tongue down to slip inside of her. As he did, she shivered, her body responding to him as his did to hers. Charles’ hands massaged as he moaned into her pussy. Her thighs moved together, squeezing his head between them, which only brought Charles to new heights of pleasure. “She tastes so good that I might cum again.” Charles thought as he thrust his tongue in as deep as he could reach and traced intricate patterns inside her. Her moans filled the sanctuary as she took her pleasure as she saw fit, and Charles was loving every second of it. He hated that he loved how she looked, head thrown back in passion and breasts gently bouncing as she worked her hips underneath Jesus on the cross. He knew he would surely burn for eternity for tasting this seductress’ honey pot at the feet of his Lord. Charles couldn’t think about that now, he was passed the point of no return as he shook his head from side to side letting his nose swipe across her clit. Her eyes crossed and her mouth was open as her every breath was replaced with a high-pitched moan. Charles’ moans rivaled hers as he felt her get closer and her wetness soak his chin. His eyes met hers as she looked down at him, her hips were pushing into his mouth with abandon. “Want me to soak your tongue, Preacher?” She moaned and Charles vehemently nodded with a pleading hum into her body. “Greedy little slut.” She said, her lips in a smirk as her brow furrowed. That’s when Charles felt a flood of her sweet juices hit his taste buds and her pussy pulsed around his tongue. He didn’t dare stop, wanting more of what she was generous enough to give him. She trembled, grinding her hips into him repeatedly until her body started to relax, and her cries of pleasure hushed. She roughly pulled back Charles’ head from between her legs, his tongue still out and chin wet. “My, my, my Preacher…you certainly do have a talented tongue.” Charles pulled his tongue back into his mouth, but not before licking the remnants of her off his lips. “Anything for you. You tasted so good.” Charles whined as he leaned in with uncontrollable desire. His face landed squarely in the valley between her breasts as his hands pressed those fleshy mounds into himself. He moaned as he nipped and kissed at her skin, her taste like a drug.

She gripped his hair again, letting him have his way for a fleeting moment before pulling him back. “You really are greedy, Preacher. You can have all you want of my tits, but only while I’m riding that cock of yours.” She hissed as she held him steady, sliding off the altar. She moved toward him, forcing him flat to the floor as she swung her leg over to straddle him. Charles’ hands gripped at her hips as she pressed hers to his heaving chest. Her pussy grazed across his tip, and he found himself trying his best not to unleash another unholy orgasm. As if she could see it on Charles’ face, she shook her head. “Not until I say and only deep inside me. Besides…that’s how you want it, right? To fill this tight little pussy with your cum?” She lifted a hand off his chest and slightly reared back before slapping his cheek. The force moved his head to the side, the sting spreading across his skin, and turning his cheek red. He slowly turned his head back to look back up at this demon looming above him. Charles slowly nodded his head. “Yes. That’s exactly how I want it. For you to use my cock like your own personal toy while you treat me like the whore I am.” His whines were loud now as he begged for more. “Please hit me again. I love it. I deserve it!” he begged as she adjusted her body and started to sink down onto his cock. Charles gasped, mouth agape as her body clenched around his. She tossed her head back, those curls cascading down her back as she sat all the way back onto him and moaned. She brought her head forward, her eyes staring down into his as she lifted her hand, slapping him again. She wasted no time as she started to bounce with force. Every time he brought his gaze back to her, he saw the cross in the background, his savior silently judging him for being so weak. Her hips lifted all the way to the tip of his cock before slamming back down into his lap, the action punctuated by the sound of slapping skin. He brought his hands up to hold those breasts as they bounced in time with her, feeling their weight and moaning at how he couldn’t fit all of her in his palms.

As she lost herself in bliss she clawed at Charles’ chest, slapped his cheeks, and reminded him just how dirty and debaucherous he was. It seemed to go on forever, time didn’t feel real and neither did the creature in his lap. Each time her body shuddered and seized in orgasmic pleasure, gripping his cock tightly Charles swore he saw his savior weeping. “Forgive me. Forgive me.” Charles chanted as this succubus continued to use his cock however she pleased. A menacing laugh laced her moans as her juices flooded and soaked Charles’ cock which was painfully aware of just how well her walls massaged his cock. The amber lights above the pulpit flickered as the storm outside seemed to be reaching a similar peak to the unholy concubine Charles was deep inside of. Her eyes glowed a deep red as she looked down at Charles and even though it terrified him, he found himself begging one last time. “Please let me cum. Please, I can’t hold on much longer. Please…let me be a good boy and fill you up?” With a final forceful slap and a grunt, she gave her answer. Charles quickly gripped her hips, holding her down to plunge himself deep inside her as the flood gates opened. She hissed and moaned out, the sound ringing in the room as his seed painted her walls, thick and potent. Charles felt as if his very lifeforce had been drained from him as he laid beneath her weak and dazed. She leaned down to kiss his lips with a condescending peck. “Mm, I’ll have to come back and feed off you again, Preacher. You’ve got so much more than what you gave tonight.” Charles didn’t understand her words but took her statement about coming back as both a threat and a promise. He closed his eyes for only a moment and when he opened them again, she was gone. He looked down to see his pants were back up and buttoned, his shirt no longer torn or opened. Even the double doors were open as they had been before, and that cooling breeze was sweeping through the sanctuary.

Charles managed to roll himself over and making his way to stand on unstable footing. He stumbled into the aisle, using the pews to steady his weak legs as he walked toward the doors. When he reached the opening all that stood before him was the lawn and soft rain hitting the leaves of the oaks that framed the church. Charles turned back to see Jesus bathed in that golden light as he took a step and had a seat in the last pew. Tears stung at his eyes as the only proof of what he had done laid in pieces in front of the altar and a few stray drops of his own seed dribbled down his leg. Charles had given into a temptation that he didn’t know he could come back from. “Forgive me, Lord. Please forgive me oh merciful Lord.” He whispered as those tears breached the corners of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Charles clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on the pew in front of him as he lowered his head. “Help me, Lord. Make me strong enough to resist her…. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness…” As Charles recited Psalm 23, he tried to ignore the taunting sound behind him. The faint sound of that menacing laugh he had heard moments before that creature had disappeared from his sight. It was soon replaced by the sound of that all too foreboding and seductive voice.

“I’ll be back, Preacher. Never can tell what a storm might blow in.”