tagErotic HorrorCommunion

Communion

byMiddleagepoet©

 

I could be a better person, I know it, I mean I'm no drug pusher or anything. I'm not a user even, I haven't robbed a bank and for the most part I stayed away from the ladies. Sure, I was a nice enough guy and talked to people all the time, actually giving them advice on many occasions, but I am still convinced I could be better.

Being out on the street a lot, I did get to know a seedy element, especially the hookers. Mind you, I never went with them, I knew them all, but they were more like sisters to me. Okay, really slutty sisters, but none of them really interested me. Well, Francy, the new one did just a bit, but hell I'd never try to actually transact some business with her.

I did have a bit too much of the sacrificial jug of wine, but I was a gentleman through almost all of my conversation with Francy. Yes, I did start up the conversation with her, but I usually do that with all the girls, "Wow, since when did they let beauty queens on the street corner," I said.

"You like what you see?"

"Of course, hey, my name's is Jonathan, Johnny for short. What's your name?"

"Francy."

"I like that name, Francy, yes, like fancy but a little more. Tell me fancy lady has business been good for you?"

"It's been pretty good, especially since I got here," she replied toying with the top button on her blouse.

"Where's the rest of the girls?"

"The rest of the girls?"

"Yeah, Candy, Justine, Marygood... even Lolita's not here."

"Well I don't know them very well, guess they all got dates. How about you, you want a date?"

"Nah, I mean I'd like a date, but I'm not really ready for profession dating, if you get my drift."

"Oh come on. You ain't had nothing until you let a pro get her hands on you."

"No, I don't think I'm ready for that, besides, what I got is ah, well... it's on the diminutive side."

"What side you talkin' about," she asked shrilly.

"It's small, embarrassingly small."

"Oh come on, I can please even the smallest guy."

I just shook my head.

"Let me see it, I'll bet I can get it to grow."

"No, that's okay, besides I need to get going, I think I may have a check ready for me."

"A check for you where?"

"The welfare office down the street."

"That's good, you go get some money and then come back."

I left, heading for the racetrack. I didn't want to give her the impression that I had a lot of money to spare, I wanted to keep that low key. Anyway, once she was out of sight I hailed a cab and rode to the track. Wandering toward the clubhouse, I had to tip the doorman just to let me in. Yeah I guess I wasn't wearing my Sunday best that morning.

Well, I wasn't all that interested in the races, I just kept thinking about that hooker as I fuddled around with a bet here and there. I pretty much broke even until the last race when I caught a lucky break on a long shot and won about eight hundred dollars. I tipped the doorman once again as I left and then headed back out onto the street.

I just couldn't get her out of my head so I hailed a cab and headed back to the street corner. Sure enough she was still there so I wandered over, "Hey fancy lady, still all by yourself."

Shrugging her shoulders she said, "Why are you in a cab, thought you just went to get a check?"

"Nah, just got lucky at the race track."

"So that bit you gave me about a welfare check was..."

"Just a tiny misdirection," I interrupted, "but tell me Francy, what are you doing out here on the streets? Someone like you could be making some real money with the upscale..."

"Look's like you have your secrets, I have mine. Now how about I show you something special."

I should have walked away, or continued the inane banter, but the erection in my pants took over my thinking. "Where did you have in mind?"

"I've got a room in the hotel here," she gestured over her shoulder.

I should have turned her down, instead I followed her to her room, and handed her fifty bucks for a "quick one." She unzipped my pants immediately but I stopped her.

"You're staying dressed?"

"For fifty bucks I stay dressed. Add another fifty and I'll get naked for you."

Nodding, I handed her another fifty dollars and then watched as she undressed. Damn, she was incredible, such beautiful breasts, big, but not too big. Anyway she let me look a her a while then she kneeled in front of me, pulled out my cock and sucked it into her mouth like she hadn't eaten in weeks. I must admit it was nice, certainly better than the few blow jobs I had received in my life.

I think it was in the way she worked her tongue while keeping the intense suction on me. Her hands were nice too, stroking my shaft as her mouth worked the head. Before long, I reached down, put my hand on her shoulders and helped guide her back and forth motion. As I got closer and closer to coming I could feel my muscles tighten, my hands tightened on her.

I felt the pleasure shoot through my cock as I arched my back and squeezed my hands as hard as I could as I spurted my cum again and again. As my cock began to shrink I released her, letting her fall back onto the ground. Slipping my cock back into my pants, I zipped up my zipper and headed for the door.

Opening the door I looked back at her and gazed a moment at her beautiful body before stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind me. It wasn't until the following day, as I was writing my Sunday sermon that I heard something on the TV about a hooker being murdered and it was apparently the fifth murder of a hooker in the neighborhood.

"So sad, so sad," mumbled, wondering if I should write a sermon about the problem. "Maybe next week," I told myself finishing up the for the day. I didn't think about Francy or the others until it was time for communion. Oddly, each time I held the host out to a parishioner and said, "Body of Christ," I found myself thinking, "Body of Francy, Body of Candy, Body of Justine, Body of Marygood and Body of Lolita."

 

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