The New Parishioner


As she looked down and tried to pray, the big bulge in Reggie's slacks drew Melissa's eyes to it. At one time, she would not have noticed it, but now she found herself staring at his obvious erection. She knew why his penis was hard and part of her wanted to rub it for him. She felt her pussy getting wetter from her thoughts. Why did he come to torment her? She could not stay next to him with his body against her like this for an hour; her panties were already soaked. She attempted to hold Bill's hand.

Somewhat annoyed at his wife's inconsideration for interrupting him, Bill gave her hand an obligatory squeeze of affection and released it to resume worship. He would speak with her later about disturbing him while in prayer.

Reggie hated being in that church more than Melissa did for a different reason, but he would endure an eternity of it to stay next to her, their bodies touching -- tantalizingly close to joining. The tips of his fingers lightly grazed the soft pink fabric of her dress where it covered her outer thigh. He wondered what she ever saw in her husband.

Bill was not tall, handsome or muscular. He appeared like the type of man who made big productions over trivial matters -- a niggler, a rather pale and nerdy looking fellow with thick, black rimmed glasses, greasy combed-back hair, a scrawny physique and medium stature. He was older than Melissa was -- in his mid to late 30s Reggie estimated.

What combination of money and charm did Bill use to woo a prize like her? She was definitely way out of his league in appearance. What struck Reggie most was the way Bill almost recoiled from holding Melissa's hand, heedless of her beauty.

Among a sea of heads which bobbed up and down like gentle waves in agreement with something Reverend Doyle said, Melissa spotted one head that shook in disagreement across the multicolored waters like whitecaps but actually different hues of hair — mostly grey with a spattering of blond, brunette, red, and black.

Kelly Ward glowered at Melissa when they briefly made eye contact. How could Melissa Morgan have the audacity to come to church with that black man? Kelly wondered. She just knew Melissa was committing adultery with him. When Kelly obtained enough evidence, she would inform Bill and everyone else in town about the beautiful little Melissa Morgan who was nothing more than a filthy whore.

Melissa looked away from Kelly and became acutely aware of Reggie's fingertips on her dress slowly crossing her threshold of sensation as their weight settled against her thigh. She knew what Reggie wanted.

The letter she had written to Bill about Reggie, along with Kelly Ward seeing her buy condoms with Reggie at the Family Foods Supermarket — when put together amounted to pretty convincing evidence of an affair, Melissa suddenly realized. She desperately wanted to shove Reggie's hand away, but she could not risk creating a scene, drawing Bill's attention and providing any additional clues. She needed to play it cool, and for as long as possible prevent Bill from learning what Kelly Ward had witnessed.

When services finally concluded, Melissa stood and hugged Bill tightly, her pussy sopping wet not from him, but from Reggie who sat against her with his fingers covertly grazing her outer thigh during most of the ceremony.

"Peace be with you. I love you," Melissa spoke in Bill's ear, her eyes closing as she embraced him. Bill only briefly returned her hug. He coldly released her to greet other parishioners far too soon, when she wanted to be held by him more than ever and protected from the horrible temptation right next to her. Melissa kept her back toward Reggie looking for anyone else to acknowledge besides him. Compared the intimate passions and ecstasy she had shared with Reggie, a hollowness in the gestures and words people exchanged became apparent to Melissa as she watched.

"Hi, you must be Melissa's husband. I'm Reggie Johnson. Peace be with you," Melissa heard his voice from behind her say as she cringed.

Bill and Reggie shook hands. Melissa saw Reggie's smile, carriage, and firm handshake exude the strength and self-confidence of an alpha male unafraid to take what he wanted in life, including another man's wife.

Melissa, now obligated to finish the introduction or appear suspiciously rude, continued, "Oh, yes Bill, this is the man I wrote you about -- the one I prayed with and who got wood for me during the storms."

Reggie held back laughter at the innocent double entendre -- perhaps Freudian slip -- neither Melissa nor her husband caught. Bill had no idea how much "wood" Reggie actually gave to Melissa and intended to continue giving her.

"Nice to meet you; I remember seeing you before I went to Peru. Thanks for taking care of Melissa while I was gone. You ever played football?" Bill asked as his eyes briefly raked over Reggie's muscles and then looked up at him.

"Not since high school years ago."

"Well, it was very kind of you to do all those things for Melissa and we would like to thank you by having you over for dinner tonight."

"Not tonight, honey," Melissa interjected while successfully concealing her dismay. "You just got back and haven't rested yet, and I need time to prepare something."

"Nonsense, I'm fine and you have plenty of time to whip one of your specialties up tonight," Bill insisted, annoyed with Melissa's unusual behavior. She had not been herself since his return it seemed.

"Okay, folks," Reverend Doyle suddenly boomed with labored breaths into his microphone that suggested an obese man who failed to follow his own preaching and partook in overindulgences throughout his life. The clamor of Sunday greetings quieted like a flock of noisy birds after the snap of gunfire as everyone retook their seats. "Our group of missionaries -- Bill Morgan, Scott and Lisa Fridas, and Larry Smith -- will illuminate us on their experiences in Peru and will be available afterwards for questions."

"That's my cue," said Bill as he hastened to join Reverend Doyle and the others at the podium. Melissa and Reggie glanced at one another, two people who shared dark, intimate secrets. She scooted over into Bill's available space to create distance between them.

"I don't know what you think you're up to, but you're not coming over tonight or any other time. Leave me alone," she grumbled through clenched teeth, glaring straight ahead at Bill and the others without looking at Reggie.

It was no way to treat her boyfriend and fuck buddy, Reggie thought, his confident smile undaunted by her acrimony. She would reconsider once he had her alone again. Meanwhile they sat through the tedious orations neither one of them found very interesting, having committed far more sin together than Bill and his friends prevented during their mission.

Minutes excruciatingly passed at the pace of years, but after producing unbearable ennui, the boring speeches finally concluded and Bill returned:

"Listen Melissa, I need to stay a while for an upcoming men's retreat we're planning. I know you need to get started on dinner. Can someone give you a ride home? I'll be back in a few hours." Bill selfishly explained, without thinking to find a ride himself so Melissa could use their car.

Reggie smiled. Bill was doing everything right to loose his beautiful wife to him.

Melissa was going to tell Bill she would wait to take him home and that Reggie declined their invitation, but before she opened her mouth to answer, Reggie responded:

"I can bring you home, Melissa. I'm looking forward to dinner with you guys tonight. It's the least I can do to show my appreciation. I live fairly close."

"That would be great, Reggie. Thanks a lot. I'm also looking forward to this evening. We'll talk some more then," Bill replied, hurriedly pecking Melissa on her cheek. "I'll see the two of you later."

He went off to join whatever group he was involved with this time, leaving Melissa stunned. Bill was ignorantly giving the huge black stud an opportunity to put his cock into her pussy yet again, having no idea what Reggie had already done with her.

The church emptied around them like a rapidly deserted theater after a poor performance. "You ready to go?" Reggie asked with a smirk Melissa wished she could smack off his face.

"You just keep your goddamned hands off me, you understand? I'm not your girlfriend and we're not fuck buddies anymore; my husband is back and that's not happening ever again. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly -- let's go," he replied, smile persisting while sweeping the air with his hand for Melissa to proceed before him toward the frigid breath of a winter afternoon.


The roar from Reggie's truck accelerating on the isolated road echoed through dormant forests sullenly surrounding them. Melissa sank back into the seat beside Reggie -- little more than a day after she had believed they were through, their affair over. She sat quietly engaged in desultory thoughts: Bill had changed since they married -- mostly after finding Jesus when he persuaded her to move from the city. A little more each day she detested the Bible thumpers Bill considered his friends and these desolate backwoods. She wanted her old life back and Bill the way he was when they first met years ago.

Then she thought about Reggie: Would he try something with her again? She knew the answer but preferred to remain in denial. If she resisted would he leave marks on her that Bill might see? Part of her wanted to be strong and fight Reggie, but then sex with Reggie no longer seemed as bad as Bill finding out about it.

In a small town where everyone spoke to each other this skein also included Kelly Ward and the box of condoms she saw Melissa purchasing with Reggie. Melissa remembered the different sex acts she had performed with him too many times to count, and realized things had gone on too long. Now any scenario where Bill learned of her true interactions with Reggie would be disastrous, her marriage ruined and the details of her adulterous, interracial affair repeated in gossip for years. Somehow, she needed to stop seeing Reggie before Bill and everyone else in town found out.

Two miles away from her house, their truck slowed and turned down a dirt road Melissa had drove past many times before but never bothered to explore. She grew uneasy.

"Where are you taking me now?" she wryly asked, the frozen dirt road, a combination of bumps and brown ice, making her voice trill and his truck clatter.

"To my place -- I want to show you where I live in case you ever want to visit."

How ludicrous, Melissa thought. Did he really believe she would ever come to him of her own volition? She knew without any doubt what activity Reggie still intended to pursue with her this afternoon and she grew nervous. Why did she come with him? Why did she let him in her house that first stormy night? Why did Bill go on that stupid missionary trip to Peru, leaving her alone for Reggie to take to begin with? Why did Bill let a huge black man he did not even know bring her home this afternoon?

"I'm not ever coming to visit you. I want to go home and I want you to leave us alone. I'm married and I'm not having an affair with you, Reggie."

"You're already in an affair with me and it's going to continue," Reggie replied. "I'm your boyfriend and we're fuck buddies, remember?"

Ahead the end of the road became visible to Melissa -- it led to his property where the skeletal remains of trees abandoned by leaves stood somberly still around his bungalow like silent mourners outside a lonely mausoleum.

Reggie turned off the ignition and quiescence reclaimed its dominion. Winter muted the afternoon with a sun that limped across the southern sky, long shadows and a daylight that barely surpassed summer sunsets. They sat a moment then Melissa interrupted the silence, "You don't even care for me. If you did you would stop making me do this with you."

Reggie looked at her a moment, her beautiful face attracting yellow sunlight that poured through the windows of his truck and painted a sparkle in her heavenly blue eyes. Melissa was the quintessence of every gorgeous woman. He cared for her as much as possible, which was why he had to do this and steal this once happily married woman away from her husband.

"You know I love you, baby -- and a hell of a lot more than that dweeb you call a husband who can't even hold his beautiful wife's hand in church," Reggie replied. "He left you in a lonely house deep in these woods to fend for yourself through a dangerous storm — all so he could feel better about himself by telling other people how to live their lives as if his was so perfect."

Reggie opened his door but she obdurately refused to budge. "Come on," he growled. His steel grip suddenly around her bicep dragged her across the seat and out of the truck with him.

"Ow, let me go," Melissa demurred stumbling against his grasp along an uneven stone walkway toward the entrance of his home.

The floor in his ancient house, a dull, dark brown oak, revealed its age in creaks it released like tiny cries under the weight of their steps. His dwelling, while a drab shell on the outside like every other Melissa had seen in these parts, proved different in its contents. Inside Reggie's home was a refreshing assortment of modern furnishings, rich decorations, and new, cutting edge electronics, including a state-of-the-art, 75-inch Samsung LED HDTV the capstone of it all occupying most of the living room wall.

It occurred to Melissa that while she had shared passion, many intimate sensations and emotions with Reggie, she really knew very little about him. Perhaps there was more to this black man, like the interior of his house, which she could use to her advantage to stop him harassing her.

"This way to the bedroom," Reggie said ushering her along.

"Wait a minute. Where did you get all that nice stuff?"

"We'll talk about that later," he anxiously replied. Melissa observed the huge erection in his pants.

The mattress was firm, yet comfortable with fine silk sheets. Melissa sat on the edge of his king size bed in her pink dress and stared up at the large bulge in his slacks. She needed to stop having sex with him.

"No, I'm not doing that with you!" she adamantly declared.

He sat calmly beside her then grabbed a crop of flaxen hair from the back of her head, his demeanor instantly changing as he pulled her skull backwards. Reminded how cruel he could be, her eyes widened in pain and stared fearfully up into his.

"Ow!" she yelped.

"Don't make me remind you that we're fuck buddies. You're going to spread the good news by opening your pretty legs for me. I'm going to put my cock in your pussy. Do you understand me?" He spat his words into her face while twisting her hair tighter. "Let's try doggy style," he continued, still pulling at her hair.

The way we think we will act in bad situations is often unlike the way we really respond when desperation takes hold, like the patient who confronts news of terminal illness, or the soldier who dodges bullets. Such was the case with Melissa as she felt hairs tearing from her scalp and pain worse than she had imagined.

Reggie smiled, released her hair and unbuckled his pants.

He stood naked with his big black spear pointing toward her, then he leaned down, reached up her dress -- his hands traveling over her smooth, warm thighs -- and his fingers slipped inside her panties. "Up for me," he instructed.

Melissa lost her free will and obediently lifted her butt for him to slide the garment down her legs.

She felt abandoned by God and her husband.

"Okay, up on the bed now on all fours," Reggie guided her, lifting the Sunday dress over her hips, her tight heart-shaped ass sticking out.

"Oh, this is fine -- really fine," he commented, groping her firm buttocks, its curves an image signaling a primitive need beyond himself handed down through countless generations from the very origins of life itself eons ago.

She nervously waited for him to mount her while his hand went between her butt cheeks and rubbed her ass. His fingers reached a little further, into her pussy, and made sure she was wet and ready for him.

"You're soaked, baby. Have you been waiting for my cock since I left you on Friday? Is that why you've been so irritable?" He slipped his phallus inside her and began thrusting.

"Ah, no," Melissa cried in bitter defeat. Deep down she knew nothing good could come of this. Did it matter anymore? Perhaps there was no God, only what Reggie was doing to her.

"Oh, yea, how does it feel, baby?"

Neither words nor the animalistic grunts and moans emanating from her could adequately express what she felt -- a confused mixture of discomfort becoming pleasure, hate similarly succumbing to an incomprehensible desire. Perhaps this was the ultimate meaning of life and she needed to give in to it. Lost in unwanted ecstasy, soon only its continuation occupied her thoughts.

"Oh damn you feel so good, girl," Reggie exclaimed as her pussy hugged his cock. He nudged her shoulders and she instinctively followed his guidance and lowered her face to the satin pillows, her ass sticking up for him to drive in deeper.

"Ooh, ooh, ooh," she mewled, his huge scrotum bumping into her clitoris. She did not want to cum for him, but lost control and did anyway.

"So soon, baby girl?" Reggie asked rhetorically, feeling her pussy spasm. He knew how to use his cock with Melissa and make her cum like a 16-year-old boy fucking for his first time.

"Ooh, Reggie. I can't keep doing this," Melissa cried.

"Yes you can, baby. No one's gonna find out. Don't worry. It'll be okay."

"Oh please don't make me," she whimpered.

Reggie held off his own orgasm even though his balls ached from the constant erections he left unfulfilled since his last time with her Friday morning. He was converting her to his religion, a faith that fully recognized, worshipped and experienced the miracle of beautiful female flesh. Her pleasure and satisfaction was more important than anything else on Earth. "Does that feel good, baby?"

"Ooh, God," she cried out.

He reached up under her dress and bra and played with her stiff nipples. "You see how much fun we have together as fuck buddies? Do you still want to go home or do you want me to keep my cock in you a little longer?"

Melissa refused to reply to his taunts. He would not stop anyway no matter what she said. She was not sure anymore that she wanted him to stop.

"Okay, baby doll, I can't be mean and take it away from you. I'll let you enjoy my big black cock a little while longer."

Melissa climaxed several more times before Reggie announced the approach of his own orgasm, "Oh, I'm going to cum baby."

Her wet pussy seemed to give up his cock reluctantly as he pulled it from her and sprayed jism on her buttocks. He slid his cock across the slippery white goo it had just ejaculated all over her ass, spreading it out as if with a paintbrush into a smooth, shiny layer.

"Are you done?" Melissa asked, watching over her shoulder. Reggie finished with her and she silently climbed off the bed, found her panties on the floor where he had dropped them, and slid them back on.


Melissa sniffled as if she was coming down with a cold and watched the trees pass by outside her window in his truck. "Do you even believe in God?" she turned to him and finally asked.

Reggie squinted -- in front of them above treetops, an orange sun hovered offering blinding light but little warmth. "I'm an Epicurean, baby doll. I believe in now and enjoying the finer things in life, most importantly, a gorgeous woman like you."

"So you don't believe in Heaven or an afterlife?"

"Baby, I was in Heaven earlier -- when we fucked. I go back every time I'm in you. Isn't that enough? You won't find Heaven after spending all your beauty and youth acquiring old age and you're rotting in the ground."

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bythecryptkeeper© 48 comments/ 232915 views/ 267 favorites

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