Saints and Heathens

"Mysha, thank you for joining me tonight. You have no idea how much this means to me." He whispered as he cranked the car to head to the restaurant. He always knew what to say to her to help her relax. Just that small statement really calmed her and she looked at him. He had no idea of the effects he had on her.

Mysha smiled. That was one things he liked about Clay. He was always a gentleman.

"So, Clay," Mysha asked. "Where are we going tonight?"

Clay looked over to his lovely companion and smiled. "Applebee's or Chilli's, you choose."

Smiling Clay drove them one of the local restaurant for dinner. When they arrived he parked the car and asked her to wait. They entered Applebee's together and were immediately seen by a few members of Clay's congregation.

Mysha stiffened when she saw them watching her. She was afraid, and felt as if she shouldn't be out with Clay. Clay felt her freeze up, but didn't understand why. So he gently placed his arm around her waist and carefully pulled her body into his.

Spying and empty booth near the back of the dining room, Clay led Mysha to the table. She was tense and he was concerned. She seemed fine in the car; what was causing this anxiety? Eventually the waitress came and they ordered their drinks.

Before the drinks arrived, the couple that saw them walked over to speak. "Pastor Richards fancy seeing you here. And who is this lovely young lady?" Elder Samuel Green greeted them."

Standing and shaking his hand, Clay smiled proudly, "Elder Green, Mother Green, how are the both of you? I know you both know Mysha Knicks. She's my neighbor." He proudly introduced his date to the other couple.

"Mysha, it is so nice to meet you." Elder Green greeted her warmly.

"Hello, Elder and Mother Green," Mysha spoke so meekly they could hardly hear her.

Mother Green smiled warmly at the young woman, "Mysha, it is so nice to meet you as well. We're going to get out of your hair. Samuel, let's go and let these young people enjoy their dinner." She told her husband catching his arm as she dragged him away from the table.

"You're right dear. Pastor, don't forget we have a meeting in two weeks. See you then. Mysha, it was nice meeting you. You two enjoy your evening." Bishop Green stated finally before the older couple left.

Clay was concerned and wanted to make sure his companion was alright.

"Hey, Mysha! What happened? Are you alright?" he queried, worry creasing his brow.

He didn't like the look of apprehension that crossed her face when the older couple approached them.

She forced a smile, "I'm fine. Can we just eat and not talk about what just happened?"

After ordering their drinks, Clay smiled at her causing her heart to skip a beat. He decided to break the ice, "See, I knew I'd get you to go out on a date with me."

Mysha laughed. She sighed as she felt the tension leave her body, "Yea, you did. This is nice Pastor, thanks."

"Don't, Mysha. I don't want a title tonight. Please call me by name, Clay. Tonight, can we just pretend to be two regular people." Clay implored.

"OK. You got it, Clay." Mysha said, tongue in cheek. "I always respect my elders. You are almost twenty years older than me, right. Besides, your hair is turning gray at the temples."

Clay laughed out loud at her words. He liked this playful, teasing side of her. She always made him smile. He knew he was older than her and hoped his age wouldn't be a problem. "Really, how old do you think I am?" he asked chuckling at her response.

Mysha started to answer, but the waitress brought their drinks and took their orders. After she made a quick exit, Mysha answered his query.

"Well" Mysha answered smiling. "You've got to be at least forty. I mean, you are a preacher and you've been one for a long time.

"Really! That old. Close, but not quite that old." Clay replied smiling at her. "I'm thirty-five."

"Only thirty-five, nice!" Mysha declared. "How old were you when you became a minister?"

"I was twenty-four, when I became ordained. However, when I turned twenty-five, that was when I made a vow and truly committed my life to the church." Clay explained.

"Oh!" Mysha looked pensive for a moment. "Why did you decide to go into ministry?"

"You can say it just happened." Clay explained. "I was taking classes and decided to audit a class called Theology in 12BC. One day in class and I was hooked. I registered and decided to go into ministry."

Mysha was awed. She was twenty-four and admired his drive and determination. Working two jobs, Mysha wished she knew what she wanted to do. "Wow, you knew what you wanted to do at my age. Hmm! I'm just trying to make it. I do want to go back to school though, maybe become a teacher."

Clay realizing that this was one thing he could do for her, cheered silently, his heart racing at the idea of providing her with some type of support. "Really, Mysha, that's great. I would love to help you with that. You know the church offers scholarships. I'll get some information to you about them." The waitress brought their appetizers and refilled there drinks.

Mysha smiled a beautific smile, "Wow, Clay. You would do that? Thank you." She whispered. Watching as many subtle emotions play across his face, honestly, she just loved watching him.

" You're welcomed." Clay realizing she was watching him closely blushed. "OK, I've talked too much; I'll stop tell me about you."

"Well, I grew up in Blaine and lived there until my Mom died six years ago." Tears gathered in her eyes at the memory. She continued, feeling the pain the same as it was over six years ago. "After she died, I got a job at the hospital and moved to Gospel. My mom's friend knew a guy that had houses for rent and he let me rent the small house I'm living in now." Mysha explained.

"How old were you when you lost your Mom?" Clay asked curiously.

"Eighteen, it was hard, but I survived. The people at your church helped until..." then she dropped the subject.

"Until what?" Clay queried.

"Nothing Clay, remembering my Mom is always hard for me. Can we talk about something else?" Mysha asked.

"So you used to go to church. I know something happened. Will you please talk to me about it? Maybe I can convince you to come back." Clay stated.

At this point their meal had arrived and they ate dinner.

After eating dinner, they were stuffed and decided to skip dessert. Clay collected and paid the ticket, and they left the restaurant. They walked to his car joking about the intense run Clay would have to do to burn tonight's calories.

Being ever the gentleman, Clay opened her car door for her and helped her inside.

Clay looked over at his lovely young companion, "You are so young and beautiful. ThinkingI am too old for her. She'll never see me as more than a preacher.

"Clay, I'm glad I joined you tonight. This was fun. I like you... I mean really like you, but I know I'm not the kind of girl you would date, so..." Mysha looked out of the window cursing herself for talking to much. Clay was a nice man and he offered her dinner simply because of the fact he was nice. She needed to get over this crush she had on him.

Clay reached across the seat and grasped her hand, lifting it to his lips, he gently kissed her knuckles. Her breath caught, as her heart slammed in her chest. The touch of his skin against hers made her body warm and she wondered if he could sense her arousal.

When Clay grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles, his cock hardened. The slightest movement, touch, or even sigh from this girl set him off. He knew who he was and realized that his vocation aside, he'd never stand a chance at such a beautiful and vibrant young lady.

Her heard her sigh when he kissed her hand, noticed that she unconsciously rubbed her thighs together signaling her arousal, and for an instant he wanted to explore.

He took control of his errant thoughts as he saw their houses come into view. Stopping in front to Mysha's house, he got out to open her door.

"Clay, don't be silly." Mysha told him as he held the door for her. "I can walk from across the street," Mysha concluded.

"Mysha, I want to do this right. Call it the old man in me. Let me walk you to your door." Clay said.

After he walked her to the door, he kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you Mysha for keeping this "old man" company. Sleep well." He then stood until she went inside and secured he door. After that he drove across the street and into his garage.

The next morning, Clay saw Mysha leaving to walk to the bus stop. He was just getting back from his morning run.

"Hey, Mysha. How are you this morning?" He asked.

She loved looking at him. Standing there wearing a sweat soaked athletic t-shirt and running pants, that accentuated the sinewy muscle of his body, she could not help but admire the view. His golden hair was drenched and hanging just above his shoulders. She longed to simply walk over to him run her fingers through his hair, pull his mouth to hers, and kiss him until she forgot her own name.

But she didn't move, just answered his query politely. "Good morning, Clay. I'm fine. Did you have a nice run?"

"It was nice, refreshing even." Clay replied.

"Well, I've got to go. My bus will be here in a few. Bye Clay. I'll see you later." Then, she left for work. He wished her a great day and then proceeded to go in is house to get ready for his day.

As usual, he stopped by the coffee shop and teased her. He even invited her to come to bible class that evening, but Mysha had to work so she declined his invitation. That evening he had to teach bible class and missed seeing her come home.

Time passed and each morning the two neighbors greeted each other before Mysha went to work. Clay was busy working on some claims at his firm, so he didn't stop by the coffee shop as often as he had previously done.

Although she'd never tell anyone, Mysha missed sparring with him in the morning. Deciding to do something to take her mind off of the delectable minister, she made plans to go out clubbing with some girlfriends.

Clay missed chatting with Mysha just as much, but he was concerned about his age, and whether she'd really want to spend time with him, and other silly things. However after not seeing her for over a week, Clay decided to speak with her Friday night and see if they could spend Saturday together.

He had an important meeting Saturday morning, but the rest of his day was free. He retired to his study to wait for his young sexy neighbor.

Friday evening arrived, and Clay was waiting for Mysha to come home again. However, she was late and he missed her because he had to take an important phone call. Before long, he heard a car horn and realized that Mysha was going out with her friends, so he would talk to her the next morning before he went to his meeting. He looked out of his window to see who was picking her up.

Mysha came out of her house wearing the tiniest outfit imaginable. Clay throat froze as he watched her leaving feeling annoyance and anger at her choice of dress. He hated when she dressed like that because she was beautiful and shouldn't expose herself in that way. She hopped in the car with her friends, laughing loudly, as they drove off.

Clay didn't want her to go out clubbing and socializing with the girls she befriended, however he had no rights where she was concerned. She was a free woman and could make her own choices, besides even if he tried to talk to her about it, it would probably make him seem older than he really was. He went into his study to prepare the sermon he would deliver on Sunday.

Hours passed, and Mysha still had not returned home. Clay began to worry. Where is she? It's after two in the morning and she should have been back by now.

Suddenly, Clay heard a commotion outside. Looking out of the window, he saw a much disoriented Mysha staggering to her house being helped by a man he had never seen before.

He saw the guy try to kiss her and she pushed him away. His heart jumped into his throat as he watched the man attempted to force himself on her. Clay grabbed his robe in haste, threw it on, and headed towards the unsuspecting couple.

"Excuse me, what's going on here?" Clay asked with a tight voice as he approached the couple. It took every ounce of self-control he had to not attack the man that had his hands all over Mysha.

Looking at him dismissively, "Nothing that's any of your business." The man replied with a smirk.

"Mysha," Clay asked, "Are you alright?"

"Clay, no I'm not." She replied in a slurred voice clearly disoriented and not in control. "Make this guy go away, please."

"Look, she does not need or want your help. Please take your hands off of her and leave." Clay told the guy as he approached him menacingly.

"Clay, Clay Richards, the Pastor at Mt. Zion! Fuck this!" the young man declared as he released his hold on her and stormed off.

Clay caught her in his arms before she completely fell to the ground. He helped her inside her house as the young man drove off.

Mysha loved the feel of his arms around her and in her impaired state she began to respond to him.

Clay prayed for resistance, counted to ten, and willed his body to stay calm. She felt incredible in his arms, all soft and pliant, curvaceous and warm. She smelled heavenly.

Once he got her to her sofa and attempted to help her sit down, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down with her. He untangled himself from her embrace, but at this point his cock was rock hard and he knew he had to get out of there fast because he was now in serious trouble.

"Clay, look at me." Mysha whispered. Then she spread her thighs revealing the fact that she wore no underwear.

Clay looked at the most beatutiful pussy. Covered in a thatch of neatly trimmed dark hair, the lips were plump and wet. He could smell her and his mouth watered wondering what she tasted like.

Clay had not taken a vow of celibacy, but he did teach against engaging in premarital relations.

Clay had not been intimately involved with a woman since he joined the church, over ten years ago. He fantasized, dated, and even had a couple of serious girlfriends over the years, but as a minster he abstained. When he found himself in need of release, he masturbated.

After moving in across the street from Mysha, he found himself masturbating quite frequently.

He looked away and grabbed Mysha's knees, and quickly closed her legs. She had a small throw over the back of the sofa and he used that to cover her body from his vision.

"Damn it, Clay. Touch me!" Mysha demanded. She grabbed his hand and guided it to her steaming hot pussy.

He could have stopped her, pulled his hand away, but he wanted to feel it. The see how hot she really was.

Mysha groaned when his hand touched her hot flesh.

He massaged her slit as her juices soaked his finger. He heard someone moan and realized it was the both of them. Her vagina opened before him like a Venus flower and before he knew it he had inserted two fingers inside her.

Mysha fucked his hand and she moaned. At this point, Clay gave up and became exactly what he was a man so enthralled in his passions and desire for the woman he was with that he lost all reason.

Mysha suddenly reached up and removed the bodice of her miniscule dress, exposing her beautiful brown mound to his eyes.

Clay quickly leaned forward and sucked her right nipple into his mouth. Mysha groaned and her pussy spasm on his fingers. She came so hard that it felt like her pussy was trying to pull his whole hand inside of her body.

Clay couldn't take anymore. His cock erupted inside his pajamas shooting out ropes of his own cum. He shivered at the magnitude of the orgasm he'd just experienced.

As her tremors subsided, Clay removed his hand and kissed her gently on the forehead.

"Mysha, I am so sorry." He whispered. "I should not have allowed this to happen."

Mysha didn't hear him because she had fallen asleep.

Clay covered her up. He stood and watched her for a moment, then licked her juices from his fingers. Clay loved the taste of pussy. He always suspected that Mysha's would taste divine, and wasn't surprised to find that he was not wrong.

Clay locked her door as he left to go home. He went straight to his prayer corner to pray for forgiveness for the several sins, he knew he'd just committed this night.

Saturday morning, Clay met with the local Bishop, but honestly, he had no idea what the man was talking about. He simply smiled, made noncommittal noises, and hoped he didn't agree to do anything extra. His entire train of thought was focused on Mysha and the amorous activities they'd engaged in the night before.

When Clay arrived back at his house that afternoon, he noticed that Mysha was not home and briefly wondered where she was. Then, Clay heard a knock on his door, as he looked out and saw Mysha standing on his doorstep. His palms itched badly because he wanted this woman, but being a minister, he could not cross that line ever again.

He was still embarrassed from the event that occurred hours earlier, so he hoped she didn't remember anything.

"Mysha, good afternoon," he greeted her warmly as he invited her in. "How can I help you today?" he queried.

She entered his house. He could not help but notice what she was wearing. She had on a simple pair of black jeans with a simple white and black t-shirt that did very little to conceal her bountiful breast.

Clay's cock hardened instantly. As his mind vividly recalled the sights he saw last evening, he immediate stood behind a shelf after she entered because she'd have to be blind not to notice the rock he was sporting.

Mysha laughed. Even though she was drunk, she remembered everything that happened earlier that morning. Her body heated at the memory of this man losing control and touching her, burying his fingers inside her and giving her pleasure like she'd only dreamed of. Her pussy was creaming and all he had to do was whisper and she'd lay out before him eager, ready, and willing.

"So formal, pastor, we should be more familiar. After all didn't you lay hands on me and in me this morning, right? " She giggled.

Clay was mortified. Embarrassed, he looked away. "Mysha, you are right. I never should have touched you-"

Realizing that Clay was about to declare that this morning was a mistake. "No, you can't say you're sorry." Mysha panicked, feeling as if the bottom had dropped. He could not deny what they shared. It happened and was wonderful, but if he apologized, then that meant he regretted it.

"I've always wanted you Clay. You're different from other guys. When you look at me, I feel like a person. Most times I feel like a tragic mistake that never should have happened."

"Mysha, you are a special woman. You deserve to be happy, but what I did was wrong. I'm a minister so, I can't indulge in fleshly pleasures. Besides you were drunk and I had no rights to touch you in that way. I ask that you please forgive me?" Clay tried to pleaded.

"Clay, do you think I'm a slut? Do you think I sleep around? If I was like the girls from your church, would you...?" Mysha asked.

Clay carefully attempted to answer the question. "Mysha, I only know what I see. You were with a young man with no underwear. To me, that is not something a moral woman would do."

"Gah!" Mysha gasped mortified. She never thought he thought of her that way. He was always respectable and treated her kindly. For a second she felt like she did years earlier in that meeting with the church women.

Mysha snapped, "You sanctimonious prick. You had your fingers inside my pussy. Yes, I begged you to put them there. Do you think a pair of panties would have stopped you? I can't believe that I thought you were different."