The Preacher's Wife

"My wife, is she here?" He asked.

"Yes, the poor dear is upstairs. She was so worn out, I'm afraid. Pardon me, I'm Katherine Duncan, preacher." The woman extended her hand and Marcellus took her rough, calloused hand in his.

"I am pleased to meet you, and thank you for looking after Constance. I'm afraid I was distracted last night."

"Of course, it was my honor, preacher. I'm sorry that the other men left you will Mr.Hocking and Mr. Randall. Those two are trouble, sir. Your poor wife was asleep before you left and has not awaken yet, sir. Do you wish me to awaken her?"

"No, let her sleep, I will seek some food while she rests."

"Sit at my table and I will prepare you a meal." the Widow Duncan said. In a matter of just a few minutes, Marcellus was wolfing down a meal of fresh eggs and salt pork, the solid food soothing his appetite. Fed and refreshed, he asked the widow if he could lay down with his wife. She took him upstairs and showed him to the room. It was dark in the room and Marcellus got in bed without disturbing the exhausted woman sleeping there.

In the months that followed, the townspeople organized work groups and built a small log church and an adjoining cabin just a few hundred yards south of the Stockade. Constance often found herself left alone, for Marcellus was called away to conduct funerals and weddings many times. During these times, she would often return tot he home of Katherine Duncan. The two women became good friends, passing many a long winter night together.

Katherine's husband had been killed by a band of Shawnee during an attack two years earlier. Constance found the older woman's companionship to be a very welcome diversion during her husband's sometimes lengthy absences. What Constance would not tell anyone about, including her husband, were the dreams that she had ever more frequently during these times. The dreams were nearly always the same. Constance would find herself alone in a meadow. She would feel a powerful presence and then see a pair of glowing red eyes materialize in the shadows at the edge of the meadow. Her attention locked by the eyes, she was never aware of the tall stranger until he was standing beside her. Her heart pounded as he pulled her to him. She felt urges she had never known before welling up from deep within. He would pull her face up and their lips would lock in a passionate kiss. She would awake from the dream gasping for breath, her heart racing. Every night, the dream reoccurred, the encounter between the man and woman became more intimate. Each time, Constance was taken to a new height of arousal. Her clothes began to disappear, leaving her nude before the dark figure of the man. His body radiated a heat that seemed to penetrate Constance to the core. His nearness made her breasts swell and her stomach tingle. She felt a hot rush go through her when he would touch her bare nipples. As the dreams progressed, the man would become as nude as Constance, his tall, lean body perfect, dark and sinewy. His cock was also perfect, hard and erect. Constance felt an ache in her body when she saw it. She had never felt this type of arousal with Marcellus.

In the early spring of 1792, Marcellus was called to go down river to the settlement of Belpre. Constance, as was her practice, left their little cabin and went to stay with the Widow Duncan. The widow loved to have fresh flowers around her house, so the two women would go a short distance from the defenses of the town to pick the wild flowers the grew in abundance in the rich, loamy soil of the river banks. After months of being cabin bound during the winter, the fresh air of spring, although still cool was an invigorating change. On one such excursion, Constance, a short distance from the widow, happened to wander into a small clearing in the woods. As soon as she set foot in it, a powerful sense of familiarity came over her. It was the same field as in her dreams. The dreams had been a source of conflict with in her for months. The hot fulfilling passions that she felt for the stranger in the dreams clashed with her need to be faithful to her husband. A secret source of shame and pleasure and now she stood in the very spot of that dream. She felt herself becoming aroused, just as in the dream. She could feel the presence of the stranger. He was near by and coming for her. She felt the powerful urges move through her body. She desired the man, lust for him overtook her. She fell to the ground, her hands going to her pubic area, touching her pussy, trying to soothe the ache between her legs. He was nearly there, nearly ready to take her. She felt him close by, so close she could feel the heat from his body, the strength of his being. Suddenly, Constance was torn from her awaking dream by a voice. "Constance! Constance!" The Widow Duncan called, "Where are you, girl?" The small clearing was gone, Constance was laying in a pile of dried leaves among some twisted saplings. Her hands were still buried in her crotch, Constance was appalled to find. Quickly getting to her feet and brushing herself off, she made herself presentable before calling out to the widow.

"I'm over here" She called back, her voice crackly and dry sounding. Legs shaking, she walked to meet the widow, who was just coming into sight. Gathering the flower they had collected, the women returned to Katherine Duncan's house. The rest of the afternoon was taken up by preparing a supper and mending some of Marcellus' clothes. Returning to her room that night, Constance soon fell into a deep and dream filled sleep. Once again, she was in the field, her dress billowed around her as she turned about, searching for her mysterious lover. She felt the familiar sensations of being watched and the saw the glowing eyes in the dark shadows. Her lover was beside her. Whatever trepidations that she had felt during her waking moments were gone. She went eagerly to his arms, the heat of his body so intense, the feel of his flesh, overpowering. Constance felt that strange tingle in her belly once again, a rush of warmth and a knot of excitement. She had trouble getting her breath as he bent his tall frame down to place his lips on hers. The kiss was hot and burning.

Constance's body was on fire. Her heart pounded in her chest. The man's hands caressed her back and sides, making her quiver. Suddenly, her dress was gone. She was completely nude and the stranger had his hands on her breasts. They seemed to leave a trail of flame across her skin. Her nipples became painfully erect. She panted with passion. His hands went between her legs, finding the secret wetness there. His fingers penetrated her. She found herself lying on her back in the field, her legs widespread, the man's fingers opening her cunt, giving her great pleasure. Her husband's touch had never aroused such desire as the man who laid with her now.

Constance gasped as the man moved over her, as nude as she, his erection burning as it touched the lips of her vagina. He began to press it against her. The head separated the dewy lips of her sex and started the deep slide into her. Suddenly, Constance was snapped awake by a scream. Her breath was ragged and her body throbbed with the sexual arousal that had been introduced by the dream. She was awake, in a bed, in the Widow Duncan's house, the field and her lover vanished. Gathering her night gown, she got out of bed and went down the short hallway to Katherine's room. Peering through the open doorway, Constance saw the widow was awake and sitting upright in bed, her legs drawn up to her chest and circled by her arms. She rocked slowly as if to comfort herself. "Are you alright, Katherine?" Constance asked.

I am all right now, "the widow replied. "I was having a most dreadful dream. Are you yourself good?"

"Yes, ma'am," Constance said, still struggling with controlling the powerful urges surging through her body. She felt a nearly over powering urge to take a man into her body, an urge she had never felt for her husband. "I also had a dream" She stated with a trembling voice.

"So you say? Perhaps it was far better than my own?' the widow asked.

"T'was nothing," Constance replied.

"Indeed, How I wish mine was of so little merit," Katherine said, giving Constance a quizzical look. "I dreamed of you, my friend, of you and a fiend from the bowels of Hell itself." Katherine studied Constance intently, watching to see if her dream had any meaning to the younger woman. The widow felt that it was more than a dream, perhaps a prophecy of things yet to be. The feeling was strong upon her that something evil was loose and coming for her fair young friend. "T'was in a meadow, you and he,and he with the intent of putting you with child!" Katherine saw a startled look flash across Constance's face at this revelation. "I am sure it was but a bit of underdone pork, perhaps." the widow said, hoping to relieve the tension that suddenly filled the air.

"Y-yes, I am sure that is all, as my own dreams have been untroubled as of late. I dream of my good husbands return from his journey down river, that is all. I believe that I shall return to my bed, if you are well?" The rest of the night was sent with no other interruption, both women retiring to their rooms. Constance slept without dreaming of her mysterious lover.

A few miles down river, Marcellus McCullough had his pastoral penis buried deep inside the wet and willing twat of a tavern girl. Marcellus had, in the new wild land, discovered a taste for whiskey and women. He took his out of town trips away from home as a chance to sully into the dark pleasures of drink and women. Although Belpre was slightly older than the settlement at Marietta, it was less rowdy. One needed to look harder to find the hidden sins in the old French settlement. Thomas Hocking and Wayne Randall knew all the places that a man could have a good time without the wagging of tongues. Marcellus, when sober, would have abhorred his behavior. The normally reserved preacher would be mortified if he could see himself as he was now. Naked as the day he was born and rutting with a common tramp. Marcellus, when drinking, only knew that he loved the sharp feeling of excitement for the intake of alcohol and the sex with strange women. The woman under him, chunky and thick in the middle, was not nearly as pretty as his good wife at home, but a man had needs that a good woman would never be willing to take care of. Marcellus continued to mentally praise his virtuous wife as he plowed his cock deep into the opening between the woman's spread thighs. Her large tits shook under the force of his thrusts as he hammered hard against her. With a load grunt, he reached his peak and sprayed the insides of her pussy with a thick load of sperm. Marcellus fell asleep in the rented room; the hired woman got dressed and went in search of new customers.

Marcellus found himself standing in a meadow. It was strangely familiar to him; even though he was sure he had never been there. Very familiar was the form of his wife, Constance, standing in the center of the small cleared area. Marcellus found himself unable to move or to speak. He could only watch as his wife disrobed. She soon stood totally nude, waiting for something or someone. Suddenly a man stood beside her, a very tall dark man. Even though the meadow was in a sunny location, the man always seemed to be in a shadow. Shadowy hands caressed Constance's heavy breasts. She seemed willing, no, eager for the man to take such liberties with her. Her hands were also busy, reaching for the man's pubic area and feeling his growing erection through his pants. His head descended to place a long kiss on Constance's upturned mouth. She placed one arm around his neck holding him firmly in position to prolong the kiss. Her other hand worked at the front of his trousers, opening the front and allowing his fully erect organ to pop free.

Marcellus watched, stunned, as his wife took the firm length of flesh in her hand, feeling and caressing it. The throbbing cock in her hand grew in length and, as it grew longer, it became darker also. In a matter of minutes, it was fully the length and thickness of Constance's forearm. It was also black as the darkest night. Much too large for Constance's hand to reach around, the organ seemed to twitch and twist as if searching for something. The tall dark stranger pulled Constance against him, lifting her onto her tiptoes. Marcellus saw his wife spread her thighs slightly, thrusting her hips forward toward the man. His cock, thick and black, seemed to find her opening on its own. It twisted into a half circle, dipping way down from the point where it attached to the mans' body, reaching down to about Constance's midthigh and then turning upward directly toward her pussy lips. It flexed upward, driving the thin tip between the woman's thighs, entering her pussy with ease. More of the dark shaft slid into Constance, growing much thicker with each inch.

As Marcellus watched the tall stranger fuck his wife in the middle of the meadow, the sky began to cloud up rapidly. Thick and dark, like the man himself, the storm clouds rolled across the blue clear sky, cutting off the sunlight and putting the whole meadow in a dark shadow. The tall man continued to thrust his organ into Constance. She wailed and moaned, clinging to the man's neck and rolling her hips against him. Strangely, his hips did not move to drive his penis in and out. The organ was making the thrusts by itself, going deeply into the woman's sex. The dark clouds over head seemed to grow closer and more ominous as the man's thrusting increased. The sun seemed to be completely gone from the sky now, powerless to penetrate the gloom that had descended over the little clearing. Lightning flashed as the man threw back his head. His orgasm hit him. In the flash of the bolt, Marcellus beheld a sight that turned his blood to water. A tall black insect like creature held his wife. Its long arms encircled her body, holding her as its sperm was pumped into her open receptacle. A pair of wings on its back flapped slowly as the fuck continued. The creature turned its head to stare directly at Marcellus.

Marcellus snapped awake, sitting upright in the bed. His heart was pounding and he was gasping for breath. What a nightmare! The vision of Constance in the arms of the Demonic One was screaming through his head. He must make way for home without fail! Constance was in need of him, now! Marcellus dressed quickly, his head still swimming from the strong drink. Gathering his scattered possessions, he made way for the wharf, to begin the trip back up river to Marietta. The trip would take several hours to complete, the river current made travel upstream a snails pace crawl. After asking the whereabouts of his traveling companions, he quickly located them and told the two still very drunk men of his need to journey back home. Both were far too intoxicated to make the trip back up river, so Marcellus went on down to the wharf, finding a pair of men with a large canoe preparing to make way upstream. Bargaining for passage, the distraught man threw his meager belongings into the canoe and climbed in. Soon they were paddling north toward home.

On that same morning, as Marcellus was on his journey home, Constance was walking along the river banks north of the Marietta settlement. The wild flowers were in full bloom. She marveled in their beauty as she walked along, her thoughts both happy and troubled at the same time. She felt the heat of her dream lover throughout her body, she also felt the need to be faithful to her husband. So preoccupied was she that she failed to notice how far from the settlement she had traveled. She never knew that she was being stalked until the two rivermen grabbed her as she rounded a large tree. She was grabbed, a hand over her mouth, and wrestled to the ground.

"Damn, Luke, look what we got us here! She's a looker! Hold her down, I'm gonna have some of that tail!" The one called Luke did as his companion told him, holding Constance down while his buddy forced her legs apart. He pulled her long skirts up around her waist, cutting her pantaloons off with a long bladed knife. In a matter of seconds, her sex was exposed to the lusting eyes of the two men. Luke laughed as he loosened his belt and dropped his trousers, crawling between her forced open thighs. Twisting and turning, Constance tried to avoid what was coming, but the men were too strong. She was penned and Luke had his cock against the lips of her vagina. "This gonna be so damn good!" he exclaimed.

Suddenly, there was a flicker of darkness across the face of the morning sun. Constance felt a fierce heat against her body as suddenly the weight of the one man was removed from her. Luke, still kneeling between her legs, looked up in terror. Screaming loudly, he rolled off her and tried to run. His hastily dropped trousers tripped him before he took a step. Constance quickly rolled away from him, and gathering herself, started to run. She heard another piercing scream from the man, then nothing.

Constance ran until she was out of breath. Her heart racing in her chest and blood pounding in her ears, she finally stopped at the base of a large willow. Gasping for breath, she dropped to her knees, dizzy and disoriented.

"Constance! Constance McCullough!" The voice started her. She took a step to run but her body refused to move any farther. Her legs collapsed, tumbling her to the ground once more. "Fer the love of the Saints, what are you afraid of, woman? It's only me, old Jacob Dewey!"

Constance kicked at the man as her approached, unaware of anything but the horror of the last few minutes. Jacob was himself startled by the fear in the woman's eyes. He kept himself out of the range of her legs while he tried to talk to the half crazed woman. Finally, a certain amount of reason returned to Constance. She realized that the danger was over; the man in front of her was not going to hurt her. Jacob saw that she was calmer and asked her what had happened. Gasping and crying, Constance told him of the two men and their attempted attack.

"You've no worry now, ma'am. Those two won't get at you as long as I am here!" Jacob stated as he pulled a pair of pistols from his waist sash. Walking slowly, he led Constance back down the trail to Marietta. A crowd of men from the settlement formed around the pair as soon as they were in sight of the town. Some of the settlement women took charge of Constance, hurrying her off to the widow's house, which was but a short way off. The men quickly formed a militia to go find the two men responsible for the attack. Jacob Dewey led them back to where he had found Constance. They easily found her trail from that point, following her tracks backward to the scene of the attack. Jacob found the spot where the two men had forced Constance to the ground. Fanning out, the party searched the area for the two. A few minutes latter, a cry was heard, bringing all the searchers rushing to that spot. They stood in stunned silence, a scene from Hell before them. Two bloody and charred bodies, one of them with his pants around his ankles, had been hung over the limbs of a large oak tree.

Horrified at the sight, the men stood a stared for a long minute before one of them voiced the opinion that there was no need to look any further and that they should head back before dark. A second shaky voice affirmed that as a good idea. Jacob Dewey and three others decided to bury the bodies before leaving for the town. Quick shallow graves were dug and the two villains dumped in unceremoniously. As soon as the graves were covered, one of the settlers asked if someone wanted to say a few words over the grave. "Yeah, lets get the Hell outa here," Jacob said. "Whatever did this may come back, and I don't want to be here!"