The Preachers Daughter

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•Luna P.O.V•

I am exhausted. How two hours of my morning burnt my nerves to a crisp is beyond me. I’m never nervous playing as Desiree on the phone listening to men beat their meat in my ear. Something is wrong with me psychologically. That’s got to be it. I’m mentally screwed. It’s so much easier pretending to be someone I am not.

After I had excused the members from sitting listening to me for what felt like hours, my parents and our members flocked around me. Praising me for doing such an outstanding job. Giving me pointers for my next sermon. Thoughts crept into my mind about the next one and an immediate ‘nope- that is never going to happen again’ pops into my head but instead I stand there and smile.

After a while we got to our living quarters on the churches property, my parents understood my exhaustion and let me off of my normal Sunday afternoon activities to go take a hot bath and a nap.

Waking up refreshed a few hours later I made my way downstairs to my family and sat at the dining room table to eat supper. My parents still had a shine in their eyes from this morning. While I am glad that I made them proud and happy, the conversational direction is not comfortable for me.

“Luna, we are so proud of you. You did so well. Our members loved you up there as well. I know you’ve been struggling with the possibility of college, but I think you found your calling” my dad boasts.

How can I possibly go to ministry school when I enjoy my little side gig on the phone? Yeah, I feel guilty hiding it from mom and dad but I am 22 years young and still have a whole lot of life to live. Granted, I have slowed down on my availability for calls, but that’s also the partial guilt in me.

After supper I head up to my room and log into the computer to receive calls. I decided tonight to only allow my premium callers to come through. Secretly hoping to hear Johnny’s voice but I am sure that after my lame excuse to him weeks ago, he is done with me.

One call comes through and I talk with Marcus, one of my monthly regulars for 45 minutes. He’s back to having marital issues. Mom and dads relationship comes to mind and I tell him stories about my parents and how I see that their struggles and faith makes them stronger. As always, Marcus is gracious and thanks me for my time and leaves me a big tip. Maybe a counselor is more up my ally as far as my future goes. Gives me something to think about.

I decide to leave myself logged in until 11PM and then I will go to sleep. If anyone could smell my desperation for Johnny’s voice, I’m sure they’d vomit. Desperation reeks.

•Johnny P.O.V.•

For the love of God. I fucking found Desiree. In Nowheresville of all fucking places! As soon as the service was over I hightailed my ass right out of that church. I’ve got an edge now on Desiree and I plan on milking it just right. Oops, I mean Luna. Luna my angel. When I asked her to describe herself to me over the phone in the beginning of our conversations, she didn’t lie. She has eyes that will make a man succumb to his knees.

My fucking word- I’m sitting here after my 2nd cold ass shower giddy like a school girl after seeing her crush on the shitty ass football team captain. Not your shitty American football. I should probably be more specific. European football. American “soccer”. Regardless, giddy like a school girl, and now I have got to figure out my next moves.

I am wanting to see if she answers the phones tonight but I think I will hold off. I really need to plan ahead. To know she is so close yet so far, kills me. She isn’t just some girl though. After hearing her give that sermon I believe everything she’s ever told me as Desiree was all truths. I don’t think she has a bad bone in her body.

Thinking back to how her parents rushed to her side after she was finished, I’m afraid I can potentially ruin her. When I say angel, I am not lying. She has this aura of innocence. Plus she literally looks like an angel. Those long, dark locks of hair. Those blue eyes. Her plump, juicy pink lips. The way her dress hugged her curves and accentuated those perfect tits. Down my man! My cock is throbbing yet again! My need to take care of the strain in my lounging clothes makes the decision for me. I won’t call her tonight and I will take a cold shower, again.
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