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FEELGOOD split between doin and you
Disclaimer:(standard) Do not screw up. Do not do anything illegal. This includes specifically (but not limited to) reading on if you are under 18- 21 in some localities
If you are underage you must leave now. If you're and curious, this is not the place to get the straight story. You act like this and people will look at you strange and give you a wide berth. Also, don't try this at home. Some of this stuff is just plain wrong, most of it is unsafe in the present viral climate and some of it doesn't work in this universe. They are stories. They deal with ideas, fantasies and thoughts that might not even be pleasant in real life. Thoughts are like that. Fantasies are there so we can toy with the sensations without feeling or inflicting the pain, depair or humiliation. End Sermon.
For more specific content of this story, see below.
M/F=all types and one is like 15.
Rev. Feelgood, God's little helper
Revival Tonight!
Join Feelgood
Every Night this Week
"Burning in the Fire of the Spirit"
It was just another stop on the trail. At least this time he had
talked some good Baptists into opening their church. He wouldn't have
to rent another fucking tent.
They even had a little kitchen in a building behind the church
and they were going
to let him sleep there. Compared to some stops, that was sweet.
For as good as he was at this Revival meeting stuff, he was
always having trouble making ends meet. Where the hell did it all go?
At least it made him more believable.
He was drinking- of all things- tomato juice when the deacon's
wife popped in. He really thanked God that it wasn't a bottle of
bourbon. Then he sized up the aging country queen.
"We all had so much chicken left over that I thought I'd make
you up some chicken and dumplin's," she drawled, offering him a
covered dish.
He took it and lifted the foil. It smelled good.
"I thank you all mighty kindly," the Rev. Feelgood dropped into
the local dialect, "This certainly smells like the manna the good Lord
provided for the Children of Israel in the desert of their despondency."
She blushed like a schoolgirl and tucked her chin down between
her raised shoulders. The bag was hot for him, he realized.
"Well, it's just chicken an dumplin's, but I do like the way
you use your tongue-...I mean, ... make your mouth so sweet, ohhhh...
you talk real purty," she stammered out.
"Again I thank you all mighty kindly," he said, bathing her in
the warmth of his smile. "but any gift I have was give me by the Lord
Jesus Christ."
He figured that would heat her up enough he wouldn't have to
unwrap her wrinkly package. Then again, she did look experienced in a
rural sort of way. And she may have been a babe in her time.
"Well, anything else you find yourself needin', we just live right
up there," she said pointing to a house about 100 yards away.
Only she didn't go. She stood there grinning stupidly. She
wanted something from him and he knew she didn't have any idea what
it was. Deep down somewhere she understood it as lust, but she had
chosen a Reverend because she knew he wouldn't be able to act on it.
She wanted something...good. She wanted no-sex sex, sinless lust.
It was about time for the Bourbon. What the hell could he tell
her it was? On the other hand, she wouldn't be allowed to recognize it
as the devil's firewater.
Lips that touch wine will never touch mine- what the hell did he
care. He didn't want to kiss the bitch. He didn't much want to fuck her
either, but he didn't see anyone else around. He could eat up the supper,
swig down a pint of J.W. Dant and sleep alone in his drunken stupor or
he could at least wet the whistle in this not all that bad woman.
He told her it was dandelion wine. Not real wine, but like that
new wine the Bible was always talking about. It did not intoxicate the
spirit, but it did energize the soul.
He had to admit that when he got rolling he could make them
eat shit and think it was salmon. Or, in this case, drink Bourbon and get
real loose with the preacher.
She wasn't that bad. Even as he was convincing her that it was
all a dream and it was good to show your sins to Jesus, he dreaded the
part where she took off her clothes. And then when she did, he saw that
the Lord had truly blessed her and her blessings hadn't faded too bad.
Sure they weren't in the same position any more, but they still were
pretty firm, given the sagging of her years.
Then she closed her eyes and shut out any thought that it was
really happening to her. That let the hot little out of the bag. She
had been around a few blocks he found as she clung to him and pulled
him into her warm need. She rode him like a bronco and he felt well-
used by the time she turned him loose.
Nope, not so bad after all. It almost made getting her dressed
and out the door worth the trouble before he took his satisfied rest.
He awoke to the sound of muffled giggling. His eyes opened
and he was looking up into the bluest eyes...
"See now, you woke him up," the with the blue eyes scolded
somebody beside her.
He couldn't see them because his gaze was still locked with the
girl's. And then he sensed what was causing the giggles. He looked
away, past the smaller copy of the standing over him to the obvious
peak his morning erection was making in the blanket. Now, if the big
girl was alone...
As it was, he had to do something because he hadn't put his
pants back on after getting shed of the deacon's wife. If the big was
alone he might have 'accidentally' forgot that and given her a peek. But
the little one would screw that up somehow. Too many little tattlin'
mouths for his taste.
"Well, good morning," he said, bringing his best weapon into
play.
"Momma's feelin' poorly this mornin' and she sent us to see if
you needed anything," the blue-eyed goddess said.
Cripes! The deacon's daughter. He imagined it would be beyond
the deacon to suspect him, but he knew his would jealously guard
her sweet little slice of heaven. By that, of course, he meant himself.
She wouldn't want to lose out on the chance for another dose of him
because he was giving it to her daughter.
"Now Linda Sue, you git back up to the house like momma told
you," the with the blue eyes said to the smaller copy.
"You're going to let him jump up on you and I want to watch,"
Linda Sue sassed.
"This is a preacher, you better show some respect," her
sister warned, "Now you git or you're gonna get a whippin'."
"I don't wanna! If he don't want to jump up on you, why is the
blanket like that?" she said pointing at the tent over his erection.
"You know better than to sass me," her menaced, "You're
gonna get whupped. Now git before you get whupped twice."
Linda Sue's expression changed as her bent towards her,
fists on hips and chin jutting out. he guessed from Linda Sue's
expression that she really feared a whipping. In any case, she
skedaddled.
"Now can I help you out a little bit?" she said, sitting on the
floor beside him.
There was no doubt what she meant. She was sharing her gaze
with his erection and his face.
"First off, what's your name young'n?" he asked.
"Betty- Bettina Ann" she said, leaving her question hanging.
"Well, Betty you have caught me at an awkward time," he
began.
"Shucks, preacher, you're still a and my ma says we should
minister to your needs for the sake of the Lord," she said, slipping her
hand under the blanket as she delivered her speech.
That reset his thinking. The deacon's was going to use
Betty to keep him interested. Then he would owe her another roll. Not
that he really minded when the teen-ager's fingers coiled around his
cock.
"Oh my, little girl, whatever are you doing to me?" he asked.
"I'm whacking you off," she said as she did, "Ma says its the
second best way to relieve a man's tension in the morning. She also said
I wasn't to do it the best way because I'd have to look right at it to get it
in my mouth, and I was to show you respect."
He was glad he didn't have to make the decision whether to
override her mother's instructions. A nice morning blow job would be
good, but Betty's hand had him already breathing hard and he would be
soaking the blanket any second now. No time to talk her into going
down on him.
She wiped her hand daintily on a tissue when he came and
announced, "I'm going to cook you a little breakfast now."
There was no place out of sight in the little building. After
considering for a minute or two, he finally just got up and went over to
his clothes. He heard Betty's appreciative throaty murmur when he
threw back the cover. He could feel her eyes on him the whole
time as he dressed.
She had fried him eggs and potatoes and bacon and made a pot
of coffee. He was at least eating well in this whistle stop. And Betty
said he was expected at the house for dinner.
It wasn't so much that he was a preacher. It was more in spite of
the fact that he was a preacher. He was a traveling and people in
these little rural towns saw excitement and danger in people who
moved around. He was greeted with curiosity, not a little sex and
suspicion in most of these one-horse towns. Being a preacher kept the
men from running him off with a shotgun.
He spent most of the morning passing out handbills for his
revival and spouting a little scripture to get the rubes in the mood.
When he got back to the church, he found Rev. Thames waiting for
him.
"I hear you met deacon Skaggs and his wife," he said, "Roscoe
is a fine, god-fearing man, but sometimes I worry about Luvern
backsliding. She was a dance hall floozy before Roscoe brought her to
the Lord."
He allowed as how the had been very kind to him and
told Thames about the meals, leaving out the sex.
"Well, Luvern is a passing fine cook, that is a fact," Thames
agreed.
He got the feeling they both were keeping the same secret from
each other. They toured the small church together and bent their backs
to moving the altar rails to give more room for the invitation. Rev.
Thames was confident that this revival would pack them in from miles
around. It was just the kind of thing most the women in the county
would nag their husbands into attending.
Then it was time for dinner. They ate early in farmland,
especially on church nights. There was no place to wash proper, but he
splashed water on himself in the bathroom and dried off. He put on his
preaching suit and knocked on Deacon Skaggs' door. A dour Deacon
Skaggs opened it.
"Good to see you, preacher, come on in," Roscoe greeted him
warmly, in contrast to the stern set of his face.
As he stepped in the house, he saw the tone was better set by
the deacon's face than his words. Luvern, Betty and Linda Sue were all
wearing stern looks and the atmosphere was subdued. Even though it
was barely 5:30, Linda Sue was wearing a flannel nighty.
"I believe we have some apologizing to do," said Luvern, "Betty
said Linda Sue was irrevernt with you this morning."
That would explain the just cried look on Linda Sue's face.
"It looks to me like her explained that to her where it does
the most good," he said.
"I certainly did my explaining," Deacon Skaggs agreed, "but we
hold with the idea that the sinner should pay their due to the person they
sinned against."
Luvern pushed Linda Sue forward. Her eyes were and puffy,
but defiant. Her bottom lip stuck out, but she bowed her head like a
good girl.
"I'm sorry I spoke out to you and I'm ready to take my whippin',"
she said grimly.
It would be dangerous to refuse. Country people didn't like
strangers making light of their customs. But it wasn't like they were
offering him strychnine to drink. The only questions that filled his head
were: on the nightgown or bare butt? hand, switch or razor strop?
"Then come here, girl," he said, hoping Linda Sue would give
him a clue.
She didn't give him a clue, but her defiance gave him the urge to
spank her. He decided to teach them another tool for the correcting of an
unruly child.
"Are you sorry for your headstrong ways?" he asked.
"I'm sorry Pa took the switch to me," she shot back.
Thwack! That immediately fetched her a smack on the bottom
from her mother's hand. Her wince from the blow was out of proportion
to its force.
"Child, you should be thankful that your is a God-fearing
man raising you in the love of the Lord," he scolded her, "For what
good is it if a gain the world and lose his soul."
Linda Sue had stopped her scowling and was now clouding up
to cry again. His attempt to cow the little hadn't worked. He
grabbed her by the arm and pulled her across his lap. He would make
an impression now.
He was a little unsettled when he saw the blood dotting her
nightdress over her bottom. That explained how much one little spank
seemed to her. Roscoe was not one to take his duties lightly. He
remembered how Linda Sue had ruined a possible blow job to renew
his resolve.
She was a wailing mass as he paddled her, but he was
distracted by the hot roundness of her butt under her hand and her firm
flesh squirming in his lap. He was sweating more from the passion than
the exertion as he released the sobbing to the approving looks of the
rest of the family. Betty's eyes were glowing. He suspected she was as
aroused as he was.
They sat down to eat, Linda Sue standing, and discussed loving
the Lord over dinner. He sometimes craved a more normal conversation,
but this was the vocation he had picked. They might discuss some local
gossip with Rev. Thames, but he was a preacher and a stranger. At
least the food was good.
The revival meeting was small. Rev. Thames said it was the
first night and some hadn't quite made up their mind about him. He did
say the sermon on God's punishment was a real stump-burner, which he
decided was a compliment. He had been inspired by the sight of Linda
Sue Skaggs shifting uncomfortably in her seat throughout the service.
Thames told him those in attendance were sure to spread the
word that they had a live one and the attendance would pick up. It
better. They had collected a total of $21.35 in the 'love offering' and he
had given Rev Thames $5 of that. One night in Missouri he had
preached to 600 and pulled in $2,157.65 on one night. He missed those
days.
$16.35, not enough for a bottle and gas. He'd have to buy a pint
and only put $5 in the tank of the Villager. At least he wasn't
sleeping in the beat-up station wagon.
He expected Luvern to show up for another dose of God's lovin'
and dandelion wine. She sent Betty.
"Ma says you'll be here all week and she doesn't want to tire you
out all at once," Betty reported.
He couldn't read what she thought that meant. Did she believe
they was wailin' and prayin' to the wee hours last night? Did she know
he was fucking her ma? If she did, was she here to get hers? This was
the dangerous part he lived for. Was he about to crack some teen-aged
pussy or was he going to get shot by Roscoe?
It could be some local custom to jack off visitors in the morning.
You had to consider those things out in the sticks. Betty might have no
idea that a preacher would have sexual intercourse with his flock.
"I can cook you some supper, but I see you ain't et the chicken
and dumplin's," she went on.
"I guess we got distracted talking about the fire in the Spirit," he
told her.
"Dumplin's will be all soggy and fallin' apart now," she snorted,
but lit the stove and began to warm them.
They weren't that bad. He ate them as Betty watched. As he ate,
he began to become aware of himself. He stunk. All the sweating of
spanking Linda Sue and then preaching had left him less than fresh.
"Where can you take a bath 'round here?" he asked Betty.
"Well, some fancy folks have tubs right in their homes, but we
all go jump in the crick," she said.
"The crick?" he asked.
"It runs down the holler between here and our house," she
explained, "But take somethin' to dip water with 'cause it ain't right to
wash off soap right into the crick."
Praise the rural life! he thought. On the other hand, a nice cold
bath was probably the best thing for him right now.
"Will you show me where to go?" he asked.
She just nodded and he got a change of clothes and his towel
and soap and followed her down the hollow.
"This place here is nice and shaded by them piney trees," she
said by a large rock in the crick.
He thought she would go off then. But she settled underneath
one of the piney trees and watched him. All the reasons to go on were
good ones. He was just taking a bath. If he chased her off now, he for
certain would be alone tonight. The dangers were no greater than they
ever were. He took off his suit.
He was glad she had stroked him in his glory that morning. The
cold water had shrunk his cock and balls to the size of an infant's. He
could see her out of the corner of his eye. She was watching him, but
she didn't seem particularly interested in his genitals. Instead, she was
fascinated by the way he washed himself.
"You do a real good job cleaning yourself up," she said.
"Why, I thank you," he said automatically, "Learned it from my
mother."
She remained quiet while he finished rinsing off and drying
himself. When he went to dress, he found she had gathered up his
clothes and was leading him back to his temporary home. Wrapped in
the towel, he followed.
"You don't need to dirty them up and Ma said I should find out
what a gentleman was like instead of these rude country boys."
Betty was more than her mother, but in a tighter package. Her
breasts might not be as large, but they were large enough. And the fine,
swooping heart-shape of her ass was a thing of firm perfection. She was
untutored in the way of love, but an eager and willing learner. She was
also very enthusiastic.
After an orgasm on his fingers and one as he fucked her, Betty
was ravenous for more. She was rubbing her on him and kissing
his neck fervently as her hand pulled at his cock. It was more for relief
from the friction that he stopped her hand. The idea just popped into his
head.
"I guess you could show me the best way to relieve a man's
tension now," the words tumbled out, "I guess it wouldn't for you
to look right at it now."
It didn't seem to please her, but she slid down. She lifted his
cock and put it in her mouth. She was unlearned, but very attentive. She
explored the ridges and valleys of his cock with her tongue and
him in response to his cock's twitches.
Her customized blow job restored him in a short time and he
tried to pull her back up to him.
"What?" she said, almost pouting.
"Come up here and let me kiss you," he said, "I feel the spirit
moving again."
"You don't want me to even finish?" she began to whine.
"I want us to finish together," he said and then it flashed on him
what she meant, "You did your job. I just wanted to be ready for you
again."
She didn't know you could start something and not finish it. She
thought he just wanted a blow job. Nobody had explained that you
could suck awhile and then fuck awhile.
It perked her right up. But she still didn't come back to his arms.
"Well then, could you jump up on me like a bull on a cow?" she
asked, her tone going from dejection to joy in a second as she got on her
hands and knees.
It was one of his favorite positions. He slid up against that
perfect ass while she groaned as his cock slid into her. She liked it hard
and fast and from behind. It didn't take her long to come as he pounded
on her. As she was going over the edge, he eased his thumb into her
anus. It only increased the vigor of her spasms as she came, but after
she complained.
"That's not the company hole," she scolded, "That's for
boys and kin."
"But shouldn't a preacher anoint you in every way?" he asked
fired up by her hesitation. "I'll show you something you might not have
done before."
His words didn't relax her tension, but she didn't struggle as he
pulled out of her and put his cock to her asshole. She must have had a
lot of kin and boys. Her asshole opened for him. It still wasn't easy
to push his cock into the tiny hole, but he could feel her helping him by
trying to open herself.
She took it well. As he jammed into her with short, hard thrusts,
he snaked his hand around her thigh. He found the arch at the top of her
pussy and hunted out the pearl of her clit. He stroked it as he ravaged
her butthole and she became alive beneath him.
It was her favorite position. Fantasizing she was the cow, the
mare, the bitch was almost enough to get her off. His finger was adding
more than enough for her to climax again as he drove his pecker up her
dirt road.
She might have come twice before he shot off up her ass. He
was pretty certain she had like it.
"Now, I got to tell you not to chase off Linda Sue tomorrow,"
she said before she left, "Momma says she enough to give a
morning relief. So don't chase her off."
He just hoped Linda Sue wasn't enough to hold a grudge. He
hadn't held up one bit as he swatted her butt.
The little was already under the blanket when he woke up in
the morning. It might have been her gagging that woke him. She had a
lot of his cock in her mouth. She wasn't inventive or tutored, only
persistent. She wanted to put it all in her mouth and she was going to
do it or die.
Once she had, he was glad she made the effort. The start and
stop of her struggle had made him ready to pop. She pulled back to
catch her breath and he took her head in his hands. He didn't make her
gag once as he moved her head to get himself off.
"Momma said you might take to it better if you weren't lookin'
at me," Linda Sue said when her head finally popped up from under the
covers.
"Do you do this with every preacher that comes through?"
he asked.
"I never got to do nothing before," she said, "I can't even let the
boys jump up on me yet."
It was a bad question anyway. He didn't really care about the
answer. It was enough that he was fucking them all.
The Wednesday meeting was better attended, just like Rev.
Thames said it would be. It was only $50.65, but he could see better
payoffs coming. He gave the preacher $11 and the change and he felt a
little flush again. He hadn't broken the seal on the pint and he went
downtown and was a bottle ahead.
No sex tonight, he thought as he saw the empty building. He
broke the seal on the pint and had a drink. He was asleep drunk and
early.
His pants were frustrating Luvern. She was obviously his
morning relief, but he hadn't bothered to undress before passing out.
She was having trouble dragging his pants off him. Awake now, he
helped.
Luvern wasn't planning on a hand job or a blow job this
morning. She had her skirt up and her down and him on top of
her as soon as his pants were out of the way. It was hard and fast and
no nonsense. They both wanted to get him off as quickly as possible.
It was better than a cup of coffee as a way to say: 'good
morning!'.
As he slipped out of her and rolled on his back, she said,
"Maybe after breakfast we could try it again at a more leisurely pace."
Well, well, well, it could be a day without sunshine for all he
cared now. Knocking off a couple quick ones would insure he could
count it a good day whatever happened next.
She was very considerate of his full stomach and climbed on top
to do the work for him. She was also oblivious to the clock, fucking him
slowly and deliberately to make it last as long as she could draw it out.
He had no complaints. It wasn't like her slow was boring. She knew
what she was doing and was very good at making him want, need, pray
for her to finally get him off.
After she had balanced him on that razor's edge an eternity and
finally made him cum, she dropped her bomb on him.
"I hope that makes my bad news better," she began, "Roscoe is
dragging us all off to visit his sister. Nobody will be here for you
tomorrow morning."
They were leaving in the afternoon and no one would be there
for him that night either. But he was in no position to complain. He had
got laid five times in the last four days and woke up to a a
couple of times as well. In some ways it was a relief not to have to
wonder who was going to do what to him next.
It gave him time to freshen up some of his Bible quotations and
read over Jonathon Edward's 'Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God'.
That always gave him inspiration for the: 'if you died tonight, where
would you spend eternity?' part of his sermon. He was after the money,
but he knew that conversions = reputation = attendance = money.
Since the normal Thursday night visitation would be curtailed
so the local congregation could pad the back rows at the revival, Rev.
Thames stopped by the church to get some of his own work done. He
was impressed to see the traveling revivalist with his face in the Bible.
(It also allayed Thames' suspicions about the attention the preacher was
getting from Luvern. He knew from experience that the deacon's
reacted to a Bible the way a vampire reacted to a crucifix.)
"Not all the tent preachers convince me of their sincerity,"
Thames said, admitting that was why he was in the building behind the
church instead of the parsonage, "One man, a few years back, even tried
to seduce Mrs. Thames."
He had seen the preacher's wife. With no intention of slandering
the lady, he thought the preacher must have been a mite desperate. Mrs.
Thames was not deformed or ugly, but the stodgy matron was also
far from beautiful.
He gleaned a few helpful comments about the concerns in this
rural burg and one Hatfield and McCoy-like feud over who fathered the
child of an unfaithful wife.
When he stepped into the pulpit that night, he was prepared to
run with that theme in a sermon entitled: 'What does God want?'
"What does God want?" he began, "Now be careful about
answering that one- remember who you are. Who are you to tell what
God wants? Even Abraham, chosen of God, had trouble with that one.
Abraham was promised a son and he couldn't figure out how God could
manage that. So he went a tendin' a garden that was not his own."
The garden image, a hint of infidelity- he had them hooked. It
was a great feeling. The church was almost full and it was rockin'. As
he swung into God's vengeance on the unholy in Sodom, they became
as animated as a lynch mob.
Now it was time to embarrass them for their self-righteousness.
Tell them God separates the goats from the sheep. Tell them only the
still, small voice of the spirit can be trusted. Vengeance is the Lord's,
not the mob's.
Tell them it's normal to be a sinner, but it's not all right. Tell
them they need God. Tell them they need forgiveness. Tell them they
need to know Jesus.
Talk about His agony because of their refusal to listen to the
spirit. Talk about the pain He suffered because they knew the right
thing and did not do it. Hammer that until even some are crying.
Then get 'em in the aisle and down to the altar.
"Yessssss- Jay-sussss, yesssss come to his arms and find
solace," he solicited in the time-proven sing-song, "There is power in
the blood of Jay-susss. Yessss, come, come."
The invitation was being played as a dirge and sobbed by the
congregation- 'Just as I am---' And they started coming. Not just one,
but two and three, and two and three more, a procession of broken
hearts looking for God's love.
This was where the revival preacher shone. Bending down to
pray with a sobbing man, blurting out his many sins, standing and
calling more forward. Squeezing a hand, exhorting the seated, finding
that fine division of attention between the hooked and the yet to be
hooked.
Out of the 100 or so, about a quarter of them were down at the
rail, finding God's mercy. That was a pretty good haul and he didn't
think he as through yet. He figured he could poke the conscience of at
least 10 more talking about sins of lust, pride and greed.
Then he saw her. Doe-eyed, soft features, a face as round as
sweet potato pie, she fixed him with a look of longing that made his
dick stir in mid-sentence. Her hair was in braids, but her wide brown
eyes had a look of knowing that belied that innocence. He knelt to pray
with her.
"Oh, preacher, I need Jesus," she said quietly and sadly, "I need
Jesus' love."
"Jesus does love you, my child, you only need call on Him to be
saved," he replied.
"Oh yes, Jesus, I want you to come into me and fill me up with
your love," she said fervently, "I want Jesus in all of me."
"Then pray with me," he said.
"Yes, preacher, give me Jesus," she said moving her cheek next
to his as he bent his head to pray, "Put Jesus in me and make me take
all of Him. Fill me with Jesus until I have Him all. Make Jesus give me
joy like I've never known."
She was fervid, all right. But something in her tone made him
question if she was really talking about religion.
"You sound troubled," he said, testing the waters, "Perhaps we
could pray about it after the service."
"Yes," she said quietly, "I want you to give me Jesus and we can
pray and pray. I want to pray with you all night long."
She hadn't really said anything, but he didn't have a doubt what
she meant. Her voice had gotten immistakably husky as she said, 'all
night long'. Now it was doubly good that Luvern and her brood had left
town.
She had broken his connection with the mania of the crowd, but
he was experienced enough to keep them coming. He could do it drunk.
Right now he was only horny.
Rev. Thames had become a fan. Even he had been caught in the
fervor of the sermon. A good man, he knew there were innocent
explanations for even the most damning of circumstantial evidence.
Now he was sure that was the case with the whiskey bottle he had
glimpsed in the preacher's car.
Thames still took the $36 out of the $185 in the love offering.
Rev. Feelgood was glad to give it. It was looking like he was going to
get out of town with a full gas tank and $400 clear. And fuck the I.R.S.
Let them prove he made a cent- or that he wasn't a real preacher.
"Without any of the rest, that would be enough to convince me
you are filled with the spirit," Thames said, nodding toward the teary-
eyed woman waiting in the rear of the church, "Lucy is the meanest
hellcat in three counties. I admit I watched her to be sure she wasn't
doing the collectin' from the collection plate."
He mumbled something about the power of the Lord, but
everything Thames said just made him want to hurry Lucy to the
building out back.
Behind that closed door, with Thames safely out of the parking
lot, Lucy's demeanor reversed itself. Her teary eyes became bright with
mischief, her slumped stance became straight and energetic and her
loose blouse pulled tight to display a generous chest.
"You gonna pray me now?" her inflection making clear what her
whispered words had only hinted at.
"My child, I'm gonna pray you like a mason prays bricks," he
said, letting her know he was on the same scripture.
"Then let's get out baby Jesus and watch him grow into a man,"
she said, dropping her hands to his belt.
He couldn't think of a cute thing to call her tits, so he just
opened her blouse without comment. The fullness he had seen in her
blouse was only a taste. Her were stuffed into her bra, bulging at all
the seams. As he stared, she tugged and he felt his pants slide down his
legs and heard them hit the floor.
She found it was way after Christmas. Baby Jesus had already
grown into a man. It was time for Jesus to go into her and inject her
with the spirit.
Released, he found her had been stuffed into the bra by
design. They were still large lobes of flesh, but firm was not an accurate
adjective. They hung like the bags of water used to send goldfish home
from carnivals. They flowed like water when she moved.
He wanted to explore them more, but Lucy was too impatient for
foreplay.
"Give me Jesus now," she demanded as she dragged him back
with her onto the floor by her stranglehold on the Lord, "Pray with me,
preacher, pray me good!"
Fucking Lucy was reminiscent of riding a mechanical bull. Her
hips were powerful and urgent in seeking out her own pleasure. And
part of that pleasure seemed mixed up in this burlesque of the revival
spirit.
"Oh yes, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus," she called out every time he
thrust into her.
And in the overflowing of the Spirit, he called on the Lord and
his himself.
At least if they had been overheard, it would have sounded like
the revival was going on in the preacher's quarters.
Then they took the time to get Lucy's skirt off and rid him of the
rest of his suit. Out came the Bourbon and they got pleasant while they
rubbed flesh on flesh. Those flowing liquid proved to be very nice,
he decided.
Lucy wasn't much interested in putting Jesus in her mouth, but
they drew out the kissin' and the teasin' for almost an hour before they
got to prayin' again. They prayed hard and they prayed slow. And, as
she had requested, they kept on praying all night long.
"You some preacher man," Lucy said in the morning, "Guys that
can fuck- er pray- like you usually as slippery as gooseshit and stick out
like a dog's hard-on. I think if you preached hard enough at me, you
could make me a convert. And you tough enough to last the night with
me. You some preacher man."
It probably was one of the most accurate assessments anyone
had made of him. He didn't lose sleep over the contrast of the life he
was supposed to lead and the life he did. He was both. If there was a
God, He certainly wouldn't penalize a true believer coming to Him
because a drunk philanderer pointed the way. And he could make them
come forward.
And he cut his swath through the congregations. Lucy was a
memory of the gin-mill days before he had found the way. It was a good
reminder of those robust days, but he wasn't about to give up his
preaching to go back to the gutter for it. He saw her off and
then decided he could spring for a meal in the town's one diner.
He had proved himself and he hadn't fucked up once. It was
time to soak up some of that welcome as a reward. He wasn't
disappointed. The townfolk greeted him warmly as if they believed their
souls depended on it. He had made a powerful impression.
Now, for Friday night, he had to tread the line. He had to build
on Thursday's service, which even he had to admit had been a whopper,
but leave room for capping it off on Saturday. He was pretty sure Rev.
Thames would ask him to share the pulpit on Sunday, but that wouldn't
be a big money deal.
After skimming off his 80% all week, it would be more than
rude not to reverse the Sunday take, which, after all, was Thames'
livelihood. Not that he hadn't put $50 extra in the preacher's pocket
already and was projecting another $50 for Thames the next two
nights. Not bad for a town that still had a $2.35 blue plate special.
And then damned if it didn't all start downhill. He spent the day
preparing an obedience sermon based on Abraham and Isaac. Then he'd
hop to Jesus in the Garden and his obedience to a horrible death. He
had it down real smooth when Rev Thames asked him what he would
be preaching.
He knew he was in trouble when he saw the preacher's face.
"I... ummm... I don't think... ahhh... I wouldn't suggest using
that text, brother," he finally stammered out.
In a hushed whisper, Thames revealed the real secret in the
town. Their own Abraham, Ezekiel Terwain, town founder and richest
man, had killed his own son. That was the truth, Thames sputtered,
nobody spoke of it and no vengeance had been sought, but Terwain had
killed his child and then dared the town to act with the defiance of his
lack of remorse. No investigation, only a dead and whispers.
It was good not to rub that sore spot with the of a
commanded to kill his son by God, he sensed. Lucky he found out
before he opened his mouth, but, shit, what kind of a Friday preaching
could he cobble together now? Who fucking else was obedient to the
Lord?
It was times like these that made him wish someone had drug
him to church when he was a kid. Adam fucked up. Cain fucked up big
time. David was okay and then he fucked up, ditto Solomon. Moses
fucked up- Joshua? He didn't know squat about Joshua.
Then to add to his predicament, he looked out at the
congregation and saw the sheriff standing in the rear. He couldn't
remember anything he'd done in the recent past, nor any warrants that
might be out there, but the police always unsettled him.
Noah! Fucking Noah! He was obedient and was rewarded. It
popped from somewhere his is head as the congregation was finishing
"Power in the Blood of the Lamb". Preaching out his ass always raised
his level and he had 'em praising the cleansing rain and the rainbow
before he dropped the Jesus dying in agony on them.
The sheriff wasn't really moved. He wasn't moving any closer,
however. He was still there at the close of the service, giving out no
clues. He took it head on.
"Evening Sheriff," he greeted him, extending his hand, "Glad to
see you here tonight."
"Quite a commotion, had to see for myself," the sheriff said, still
not tipping his hand, "Like to take a look at strangers in town."
It was the polite equivalent of, 'where you from, boy'.
"I'm no stranger to this country, sheriff," he said trying to defuse
the interest, "I'm from Kansas where I once would have been of interest
to you before the Lord saved me from a life of wrongdoing and the fires
Hell."
Even that gold star on the sheriff hadn't jogged his memory of
anything he might be wanted for. He felt safe enough to tell the truth.
Nevertheless, it left him in bad need of a woman, a drink or
both. He had another hot $150 in his pocket, but the encounter with the
sheriff froze his desire to go out wild on the town that night. Another
Friday night and I ain't got nobody, he switched the Sam Cooke song to
muse.
Cooke and his being shot to death in a motel room was
somehow appropriate for his musing at that point. It wasn't the way he
wanted to die- at least not tonight. It was just a shame that the Skaggs
family had hustled out of town and he hadn't seen Lucy in the
congregation, waiting to pray with him some more.
That was the other edge of the sword of respect. He had burned
down the bridge to the honky-tonks in this area with his spreading
fame. It was good for business, but bad for getting laid.
Then he saw Mrs. Thames looking at him. Oh no, he thought,
not for love, money or to escape the hangman. Maybe that other
itinerant preacher wasn't all to blame. She came over grinning.
"Brother Feelgood, I feel bad that we never have had the chance
to talk," she said, her speech betraying her foreignness to the rural
setting.
"Well, good evening, Mrs. Thames," she said cordially, but
slipping some emphasis to the 'Mrs.'.
"If I was only 20 years younger I might take that personally,"
she said cutely.
Then you'd only be 10 years too for me, he thought, but let a
puzzled look cross his face as if nothing had passed between the lines.
"I was just wondering if you might do me a personal favor," she
said and he braced himself, "Our little Donna just isn't living in the
Lord and I'm afraid she just won't listen to me or the Reverend."
"Your daughter?" he asked.
"We think of her as that, but she is just a troubled child that we
took in after her left and her died," she explained.
"Beatrice," Rev. Thames called sharply as he came close enough
to overhear, "Don't go troublin' the kind preacher with our troubles. I
doubt even he would have enough time to unravel the sinfullness that's
gotten into that girl."
He could tell from their looks that she had been caught in an
indiscretion. Nice try, he thought, instantly apprehensive that Donna
was some trap she was hoping to spring on him. He had found many
women that had become vindictive when they could no longer
attract the kind of attention they craved.
So Donna was his kind of woman- girl, he didn't know which.
Too bad she was also bait in some trap Beatrice had set for him. That
was worse than the others. At least he had got to try them.
Hopes up. Hopes down. Fear activated. Fear relieved. And he
had to maintain his calm through it all. Still in his unfulfilled state, he
went to the building in the back and slumped down in a chair.
Nothing much left to eat. There was some coffee cold in the pot
and he heated it. It was just promising to bubble when he heard an
angry knock on the door. All the feelings of disaster that had haunted
him that day kicked in. The sheriff? Mrs. Thames? Rev. Thames? An
angry mob?
He opened the door slowly. There was 5'4" of bristling butch
teenager glaring at him.
"You let Donna out o' there right now!" she demanded.
He pulled the door open wide and stepped aside.
"I think you'll have to find her first," he said.
The brush cut, stocky little took that as a challenge. She
stalked into the room, looked around and then her brows drew together
in a question.
"Where is she then?" she asked.
"My child..." he began
"I ain't your child," she cut him off defensively.
"I still don't know where Donna is," he said, "I've never even
seen her."
"Then how the hell do you know what I'm talkin' about?" she
snapped.
How the hell do I know you're butch, he thought, but said, "I
have heard her mentioned. There was some talk of me seeing her
tonight."
"Seein' her for what," she asked, her rage rising.
"You are an angry child," he said, "I was to speak to her about
some behavior problems she's having. We didn't get very far into the
discussion."
"Just like that bitch to blame it all on Donna," she spat out and
he sensed he was no longer the enemy.
"Are you going to be rushing off, or might I invite you to have a
cup of coffee?" he asked, trying to rush this encounter to a close.
She slumped into a hopeless posture just as if someone had
pricked her with a pin and let the air our of her. Her anger had also
slumped into depression with her change of posture.
"Tain't no use lookin' now," she said, "They prob'ly got her
locked up in the house agin."
"Then do you take sugar? I don't think there is any cream," he
said.
"I take whisky, but I don't suppose you'd be givin' me any of
that, would you," she said, still a little surly.
"Even if I could scare some up, I don't think I should give it to a
child," he said.
"Fuckin' hell!" she exploded, but again he sensed it was not at
him, "It's this faggy haircut, ain't it? Bet you think I'm a lezbo too. I'm
19. I'm all woman. My brothers and my amuse themselves by
cutting my hair like this."
There was a lot of anger in that small package. No wonder it
overflowed. Being the only in a of also explained the
rough edges. She might be 'all woman', but she wasn't feminine.
"Then I guess I better ask about Donna," he said, "I take it that
you don't hold the same opinion of her as the Thames'."
"If you mean I don't think she's a damn sinner, you got that
right," she said, "It warn't all that smart for her to be goin' home with
'shine on her breath, 'specially seein' how those folks feel about likker,
but it ain't like she kilt no one."
There didn't seem to be much that didn't rile the girl. He decided
to give her some time to gather herself before trying again. He went and
got the boiling coffee off the burner and poured them each a cup. He
thought of spiking it from the get go, but he still didn't have any reason
to trust this girl.
"Now that was boiling strong just a minute ago, so be careful,"
he told her.
She brought the rim close to her lips and felt that he was right.
She didn't try it. Instead she sat holding the cup looking uncomfortable.
"So, what's your name? I guess I shouldn't be calling you 'child'
any more," he tried to start a simple conversation.
"Sadie." she said without elaborating.
"Okay Sadie, when this coffee gets down to drinking
temperature, I'm going to try and find something to put in it," he said.
She looked at him suspiciously.
"Like what, you bein' a preacher and all?" she asked.
"Hog piss," he said and caught her off guard.
She laughed. It was the first sound she had made that was not
angry or sullen.
"No, no, you said whisky and I might be able to find some
Bourbon whisky around somewhere," he admitted.
"Just accidental like," she mocked.
"Just friendly like," he countered, "I don't believe we are through
talkin' and I think you'd take it as polite if I offered you a drink."
She wasn't about to argue with that. She seemed real happy
when she saw he had store-bought whisky. He poured a healthy shot in
her cup and then sat down.
"Am I drinkin' alone?" she asked.
"You tell me," he said.
She eyed the two fingers left in the pint and said, "Maybe you
can catch up with me later."
The whisky settled her. It wasn't the effect of the alcohol, but the
fact she felt more comfortable knowing it was there in her hands. He
decided to find out more about Donna.
"So Donna has given in to demon rum," he said lightly, to start
the conversation again.
"And that's my fault--says them. Donna's crime is bein' my
friend," Sadie said, growing maudlin again, "And I got her drinkin' and
everybody knows I'm unnatural and a lezbo and on and on..."
"And you came down her to rescue her some way," he finished
for her.
"That was the plan," Sadie agreed.
"Well, then I'm sorry she's not here so I can release her into your
custody," he said, "You sound like a real good friend."
"I got to be. I don't have many," she said quietly.
For whatever other flaws there might be in his integrity or
honesty, he wasn't a bad guy. He felt compassion for this poor, haunted
girl. He was also at a loss for words of comfort. But he felt it was
important to keep her talking.
"Is there some way I can be your friend?" he asked her.
Her head snapped toward him and she stiffened in her chair.
"What you mean?" she asked.
"Nothing," he responded hastily, "It was a question. I saw the
strength of your loyalty and I see the sadness in you. I think you deserve
better and I don't want to feel helpless about it."
She had greased the words with her reaction and they were
sliding out smooth as gooseshit.
"I don't think I can change your world, but I think you deserve
better and I want to make something a little better for you," he said and
then pointed to the cup in her hand. "I don't consider that cup of coffee
to be enough."
She was studying him closely as he spoke, considering his face
as he talked with more care than the words he said. She relaxed a little
and then slumped back to where she had been.
"I can't see how you can help my life- less'n you want to marry
me, but anything you could do to make them go easier on Donna would
make me feel better," she said.
"Well, I won't say I won't marry you, never know what might
happen, but I don't think that's going to be a solution this trip," he said.
He considered what he knew of the situation and said,"I will do
what I can for Donna, but you're going to have to tell me some things."
"Like what?" she asked and he was pleased to see she was still
relaxed.
"Okay. What I see is that the Mrs. is riding hard on Donna and
the Rev. is scared to step in for fear she'll switch to him," he said. "If
that's true, then the Mrs. is jealous."
"Well, Mrs. Thames is the boss in that and she seems to
have a particular cravin' for correctin' Donna," she allowed.
"Whips her on the bare butt with a stick," he said.
"How'd you know?" she said, surprised.
"Some people get pleasure like that, more'n you'd think," he
explained, "It just fits the way she talks about her."
"And you've never even seen her," she mocked, seeing him as
the enemy again.
"They've been keeping her far from me," he said, "I'm a stranger,
remember? Preacher or no, I'm a travellin' and people aren't about
to trust me with their daughters."
She considered it and saw his point.
"But then it don't make it real likely that you'll do much changin'
of their minds either," she said.
"I don't get what you mean," he said.
"They're not going to air dirty laundry like that to local folk, let
alone a stranger," she said.
"You mean there's more than an unruly, intemperate child," he
asked.
"I tole you, they think I'm a lezbo and she hangs out with me,"
she said.
Then he remembered how Rev. Thames had stepped out of
character to correct his as she was talking about Donna. He had
thought it was for fear he might ravish the girl, but it could have been
fear of a darker secret. If they thought she was a lesbian, they might
secretly welcome his turning her to the other side.
"Oho- that fits," he told her, "But I didn't think I could work
directly on the problem anyway. I don't think the Mrs. is likely to listen
to anything I say. But the preacher is a real religious man- a real
religious man."
"Yeah," she prompted him to continue.
"I'm thinkin' a couple of sermons might do the trick," he said.
She snorted at that and pushed her hand at him. She obviously
preferred more punch-in-the-face kind of action.
"It's just you're not religious like he is," he pleaded his case,
"I'm going to hit one about God's forgiveness if they invite me for
Sunday and I'll slip in a couple of things like I was talking right to Rev.
Thames. Trust me, that always shakes 'em up, the religious ones it
shakes up real good."
"Well, I have seen people that got religion, but I don't think
they're going to think God forgives what she's been doing," she
countered.
"Well, I'm gonna have to sully your fine name to fix that up," he
said, thinking the plan up at that moment.
"How you going to fix them thinkin' she's a lezbo?" she asked.
"They think she is because you are. Or they think you are. I
think you're confused because you don't know some folks do both
things for a lot of different reasons, but I don't think the Thameses
know it either. That way, if I was to say you came to see me and were-
oh- oh-oh hot to trot, they wouldn't be thinking you were a any
more," he said.
She pondered that a while. He figured it was a done deal. What
better rumor than that she was a boy-liking woman. It helped her a
couple of ways.
"So they'll think I came here and tried to get you to jump up on
me?" she asked.
He nodded.
"And you think you can make them believe that?" she asked.
"Making 'em believe is my job," he said.
----------
Making them believe was a job.
"Sadie?" Rev. Thames was resistant, "Sadie?"
"Yes, that was what she said, boy's hair, about this high," he
said, indicating.
"You think she was after you in a carnal way?" the Reverend
said in the same incredulous tone.
"To be plain and bold, she took a hold on my masculine part
and attempted to make me sin." he maintained, "And it felt too familiar
to be the first time she's held one."
"Well, I'll be," he said, breaking into a chuckle, "You don't
know what kind of a surprise it is to us around here."
He had already established the believable and verifiable fact the
Sadie had spent some time in his quarters. Rev. Thames probably had
even expected her to visit him.
"She said she liked strangers because it cut out the gossipin'," he
told Thames.
That was one step ahead of Rev. Thames. He was still
considering if Feelgood had a reason to make up a about,
of all people, Sadie. He couldn't think of one. And then he considered
his explanation and started to believe.
Once he believed, he could convince the Mrs. just by believing.
She knew him well enough to know he was convinced and that should
make her believe too. The wheels were in spin.
"And I don't want to say what I thought she was when I
answered her banging on the door," he confided and set the hook.
Now he would let it ferment. That should set the tongues to
waggin'
The Saturday service was a gem. The little church and all the
folding chairs they could find were packed to overflowing. And
Feelgood was feeling the spirit. He was always good. That just took the
practice of preaching 300 nights a year. But on some nights he believed,
even if only a little, and it made him great.
The rail was packed with converts and he netted $197 from the
offering. And, as if he was being rewarded for his good works, a
woman in a pink knit suit, of a proper fashion for church, but a bit too
snug to be proper the way she wore it, whispered to him as he knelt to
pray with her.
"Lucy said I would want to pray with you, will you pray with
me?" she asked.
It was a good night.
Sadie didn't see the goodness at the time, however. Lucy's friend
Laura and he were still decent, but rumpled when the banging came on
the door. This time he suspected who it was.
Out of the corner of his eye, he made sure Laura was still across
the room and opened the door a little.
"Hi Sadie, I'm sorry, I'm a little occupied right now or I'd ask
you in," he said in a half-whisper.
He saw that her. He imagined she had come to thank him
and wanted to talk. But there was one good thing they could do.
"If you want to make sure folks think you're man-hungry, you've
got a great chance," he said and she just looked at him, "What you
should do is push your way past me- if you want, you could be touching
my crotch- and then see Laura and get huffy and walk out."
When she hesitated, he added weakly, "If I knew you were
comin'..."
She did it, hand in his pants and all. And she made her own
interpretation.
"I see what's going on," she announced when she saw Laura and
then said to her, "Honey, don't get your hopes up. It's one night and on
to the next one."
She stalked out and Laura looked at me, puzzled.
"Sadie?" she questioned.
"The same thing the preacher said," he agreed.
Laura turned out to be Lucy squared. There was no deception in
that pink suit. Every bulge and curve was as full as advertised. Where
Lucy's chest was generous, Laura's was large. As were her hips and
most of her warm, welcoming body. She was comfortable where Lucy
had been demanding and she worked with him in a stronger, but less
frantic way.
Neither had Laura any aversion to going down on him. She
slipped down to his crotch within two minutes of his finishing the first
time. She was no more frantic about him back to stiffness than
she was fucking. It was a nice feeling of being done to that Laura
continued by climbing over him when her had raised the dead.
"Lucy was right, preacher man, you do know what a likes, "
she said as she took him slowly.
He amused himself with her as she drew out their second
fuck. When he came, he was squeezing them to her yowls of glee. Then
she left. She really couldn't pray all night, she said. It had been good,
but somehow he felt he would have tried harder if he knew he didn't
have to save his strength.
As it worked out, he would need his strength. The Skaggs were
back for Sunday service, as evidenced by Betty waking him with his
hardon in her mouth.
"Good morning, my child," he greeted her enthusiastically, but
discouraged her reply by laying his hand gently on her head.
Given the exertion of the night before, he came rather quickly,
but he still lasted nearly twice as long as the last time Betty blew him.
"Daddy says you're doin' the Sunday preachin'" she said, wiping
the semen from her lips.
And he had his text planned. He knew Saturday what he was
going to say today. The loving God, the strength and salvation, knows
we are but little children and forgives us because he loves us each and
every one.
That morning was the first time I saw Donna. The preacher and
his couldn't very well keep her away from church on Sunday. She
was not a striking girl. Her only feature that would attract the eye in a
crowd was her hair. It was the color of ripe wheat when the sun gives it
a golden glow. It shone.
It wasn't so much the spirit moving him in his sermon that
morning, but he did reach a degree of technical excellence that stirred
the congregation. It affected Rev. Thames as well, and he was sure the
'foolishness of youth' examples had struck home. Coupled with the
sheepish realization that they had been slandering an innocent- at least
of the crime she was accused of- with the darkest sin
imaginable and tarred Donna with the same brush, he was confident
that the present crisis had been mended. Mrs. Thames' little sexual
quirk about birching the was, however, another matter.
But certainly he had brought some good into this sleepy town.
Rev. Thames was more lavish in his praise, but he was still in the thrall
of the message. He had to refuse an even of the collection three
times as Thames enthused about how much his congregation had
swelled in the wake of the revival week. The personal issues were left
unspoken.
Packing the battered Villager, he found that he had managed to
carry most of his possessions into the building during the course of the
week. He closed the door with a little sigh for the memories. He had
made the sometime tearful rounds and packed up. Now it was time to
be off.
It was tough to leave one of the good places, but that was the
life he chose. And it would not have been such a good place if he were
not a stranger to it. It had been a good stop for all and all. He got laid
almost every night and most mornings and his haul had been much
closer to $500 than he expected.
He was calmly counting his blessings when he saw Sadie by the
side of the road. While he felt he had done her good, he still felt that
something between them hadn't been completed.
"Well then, howdy, you little man-chaser," he kidded her.
"I figured you'd take this way out of town," she said as she
climbed into the car.
"I'm glad you figured right," he told her, "We didn't get a chance
to talk the last time."
She snorted at that, "Well, I don't suppose you missed it much."
"On the contrary, I worked very hard not to let it ruin my
evening," he said, mocking her only slightly.
He was hoping she would laugh and hoping she'd be mad at the
same time. She wasn't either. She was all business.
"Well, they let Donna out of lock-up, I guess you did do her
some good," she said.
"I told you that was my business," he reminded her, "I am good
at a couple of things."
"Was you demonstratin' one of them last night?" she asked.
"And you think I'm going to say no to that?" he laughed, "I am
required by being a to brag on my womanizin'. Preachers don't
have to bring it up, but they still have to play by the rules."
"I might know better if I hadn't got chased off," she said.
That was a stunning revelation. He had seen the look of
gratitude in her eyes, but her intending to give him a sexual reward
hadn't entered his mind. He had been driving aimlessly since she had
got in the car. But then she chirped up.
"Take that branch there," she said, pointing to the left.
"I did feel bad last night turned out the way it did," he said, "It
was tough. Laura was a nice thing, but I hated to turn you away like
that. I'm glad we're getting to see each other now."
"Okay, you wanna' talk, tell me what you was talkin' about
when you said I was confused," she challenged.
"That you were confused about what?" he asked, not
remembering that part.
"That I was confused, not knowing lots of people do both
things," she refreshed his memory.
"Oh... You made a slip. You'd been talking about them thinkin'
things and all at once you was saying she'd done some things. I know
what you were talkin' about and I think I've got an idea why you two
might get together," he told her as she studied him with interest, "I
mean, your pa and your brothers don't just cut your hair, do they? I can
see where that might chase you off to seek a little tenderness."
Her look was stony, but it wasn't angry. He knew he'd hit the
nail on the head.
"And how does that make me confused?" she asked, admitting
he was right.
"You probably think that's the way you are- a lezbo, but its just
circumstance I think, " he said, "I think you can appreciate kindness
from either side."
"Well, then you ain't the only spooky smart one on the planet,"
she crowed, "I figured somethin' mighty like that. I was goin' to test that
out, but you had prior company."
It didn't change the way he felt about Saturday night. It might
have been a nice time with Sadie, but it was a nice time with Laura. It
was just a shame he didn't have time for both.
"Now slow down," she instructed, "You ain't going much
farther."
It was an ominous pronouncement, but delivered in her usual
matter-of-fact style. He came around a corner to a clearing and she told
him to stop.
"Now if you can spare a little time today, Donna and me got a
thank-you planned," she said.
Even ten minutes before he would have been puzzled, but his
talk with Sadie had prepared him for what he found. Donna, a blanket,
and a picnic basket were in a bower under the trees. It was going to be
a welcome thank you.
He revised his assessment of Donna as they sat down together.
She hadn't blossomed into a godess of sex, but 'not striking' was too
austere a description. She was an average woman, except for that
headful of bright white gold. Her eyes were not particularly bright or
intelligent and her nose a bit fleshy. Her mouth was nicely formed, but
seemed set in a non-committal grimace. Her clothes, from the same
source as her sour expression, hid what charms she might have.
Sadie went over to sit by Donna and started going through the
picnic basket. It didn't look like it held anything to eat.
"Donna and me kinda worked this out between us," Sadie said
as she rummaged though the basket.
"Yeah, and after Sadie found you with that woman, we knew
you wouldn't mind helping us out," Donna chirped up for the first time,
"I'm just a little shy, so I don't know what to expect."
Sadie came up with what looked like a dildo on a strap.
"So I'm going to do her first and then she wants you, too," she
said, "Anything else is just see how it goes."
With that, she pulled the sweater she was wearing over her head
and Donna started undoing the buttons of her dress. Donna had on a
plethora of underthings, but Sadie wasn't even wearing a bra. He looked
at her tugging down her Levi's and thought, handfuls, yeah, handfuls,
the arc of a crescent moon as they swooped away from her chest.
And then he felt left out. He shed his clothes, finally getting his
pants down as Sadie was strapping on the contraption. Donna was
watching with some interest and even Sadie was out of the
corner of her eye. Donna seemed more impressed as his cock swung
into view.
Donna was laying on her back as Sadie was crawling between
her legs with her new-found dick bobbing. The sight had his dick
bobbing in no time. He noted with approval that Sadie was taking the
time to get Donna ready for the thing between her legs.
"And how would you like to see it up close while I help Sadie?"
he asked her.
"I want to kiss it," she said, "I'm not afraid of that."
He moved her hair to kneel by her head and let his cock hang
over her mouth. True to his word, he lightly stroked her nipples as her
tongue came out to explore him. Her appeared to be the same
size as Sadie's, but they could be a little fuller since it was hard to judge
exactly with her on her back. And she didn't owe her hair to peroxide.
The bush that framed Sadie's tongue was the color of dry wheat, shining
with a burnished glow.
Whether she had moved to accept him or he had automatically
adjusted the angle, her mouth was around him now. Her tongue
continued its quest and he began tweaking her nipples rather harder.
Donna was getting pretty warm from all the attention and Sadie
moved up over the writhing girl. He moved away. Donna might bite.
Sadie even spit on the head of her fake dick. At least her kin
weren't sadists. She moved up to press it against Donna's sex and then
lay over her. It was like many other couplings. The thrust, the flinch,
pressure and finally penetration all acted out like a thousand other
deflowerings, except that Sadie was, as she said, all woman.
The scene had him impatient to be trying someone. He watched
Sadie impersonate a and had a thought.
"What about a little guidance," he suggested, getting behind
Sadie.
His cock was touching between her cheeks as she pulled out
and then rubbing up as she pushed back.
"See how it goes," she said, attentive on her connection with
Donna.
He licked his thumb and rubbed it along the crack of her firm,
tight peach. As he rubbed the lips open, she squirmed.
"What are you... oh... Yeah- okay, might as well be this way,"
said Sadie, "But you be nice now."
He didn't even begin to consider what she had said until he tried
to enter her. He didn't want to be rough, but it was taking some doing
just to get the head in. Then a couple of things started twittering in his
mind. "Company hole" "farm and kin" from Betty Skaggs and
Sadie's own request that he be nice. He was missing one unopened box,
but he was getting another one. That called for a little licking.
Sadie really seemed to appreciate his tongue. Her reaction was
like Betty's to being taken on her hands and knees, more from the scene
than the actual act. In the midst of that appreciation, he was getting her
very wet.
The second try he got that first part-way in with ease. He got the
rest of the way as slowly as he could after the one bright thrust bashed
down her virginity. Then he was ready for what he was there for.
"Now let's do her together," he said and showed her with his
cock and his hands how she could follow his lead and they could all
fuck in unison.
Donna enjoyed it immensely. Sadie enjoyed it, but at a subdued
level. That means he didn't make her the first time. But she did
encourage him and seemed to like it anyway. And to be fair, he kept at
Sadie until he had his climax deep inside her.
"You in me, di'n't you?" Sadie asked as she dismounted the
disheveled Donna.
"Yes ma'am, I did," he admitted.
"Then maybe you will have to marry me," she smiled.
"I will and truly if I just got you in a way," he said, less
in jest than made him feel comfortable, "But I'm thinkin' we'll have to
adopt Donna here just to keep you happy."
"I've seen you in action," she sneered, "It wouldn't be me you
were worrying about if you got to take Donna."
"But what if he gets me pregnant too?" Donna asked.
"Then I guess I become a Mormon missionary," he said.
They were making light of concerns that must have gnawed at
them. He hadn't given it much thought, thinking they were protected
against such things. But he had found out what Sadie's protection
against her kin was when he burst through her hymen.
"Well, if Sadie let you, then I know it'll be all right for me,"
Donna said.
He figured she meant fuck her and not that it was okay to get
her pregnant. Sadie had seemed a little reticent, not surprising if her
father and brothers had been buggering her for some time. But she said
she liked it.
"Oh, he'll be real nice," Sadie said, "I think he was easier with
me than I was with you."
"I hope he's as good as you," Donna said and then glanced at
him and added, "No offense."
"Well, I'm a sure bet not to be as ready as Sadie," he said
looking where the still-solid member jutted from between her legs.
The snappy patter had been a nice pause, but comparing the
dildo with his own limp condition made him anxious to get back to the
hunt. Donna had not seemed averse to putting it in her mouth. He was
hoping to get one or both of them to it so he could progress on to the
next round.
"If I got a little encouragement, we could find out how good I
am," he said to both of them, adding, "And I don't mean applause.
Donna, you seemed to have the hang of
using your mouth, maybe you and Sadie could practice a little down
here."
It was his first overt suggestion, but it didn't seem to shock
them. They exchanged a look for a long moment, but then both turned
their heads to his crotch.
"I've never been the one doing it," Sadie revealed, "I guess it
might be a nice change to take what you want instead of trying to fight
off what you're bein' given."
The experienced Sadie was having to unlearn her attitudes
towards as Donna was getting her first lessons. In this case, it
made them both clueless about how to initiate the contact. He coached a
little, but let their discovery be a treat for all of them.
Sadie seemed to take to being the aggressor right nice, he noted,
but Donna was not far behind in enthusiasm and found good ways to
co-operate with Sadie's lead. Sadie's brush cut head was a little
disconcerting at his groin, but there was enough of the pixie in
the sharp angle of her jaw down to her pointed chin to make her look a
little feminine.
He let them play on for a while as they him with their
flush of enthusiasm for something new, but he had a to satisfy and
an orgasm to preserve. They were getting just a little too good for him
to let them keep at him much longer.
"If you want to save something for Donna, she better be getting
ready," he told them.
"Oho, larnin' too quick are we?" Sadie said with a gleam in her
eye.
"You can take up practicing again as soon as I'm done," he told
her as he took the toy away from the girls, "Now how does Donna want
this to happen?"
"Why? are there 156 ways to do it?" Donna snickered.
"About that, but off about half a dozen basics," he told her,
"And mostly between me doin' and you doin'."
"You doin'," she said right off, "And I don't know about
anything other."
He took that as a chance to educate and enjoy at the same time.
It was getting to be a real good thank you. He reached over and pulled
Sadie by the hand.
"Then you watch and Sadie will put me through the paces. You
see something that you like, that's what we'll do," he said.
Sadie was a compact little package, but dense. He struggled to
lift her onto his lap
facing him. She wasn't light enough for him to guide her down onto his
erection, so he just set her in his lap as if he had.
"This is a little of both doin'," he said, "takes a long time to get
off, but why hurry something that feels so good?"
Then he lay back and left Sadie sitting on him and said, "This is
her doin'."
He rolled Sadie on her back and put his cock into her proper.
That was the enjoyment part of Donna's education.
"You know this one, but watch," he said as he pulled his knees
up and leaned back.
He put Sadie's heels on his shoulders for a moment and then
bent her knees back towards her ears. He leaned back to unfold her and
then put down her right leg and moved his left knee outside it. Sadie
seemed a little stretched as he straddled her one leg and held the other
over his shoulder, so he brought her left leg down until it was across his
stomach and he could hold it up in the crook of his left elbow.
"See about them hundreds of ways," he said as he reluctantly
pulled out of Sadie.
Sadie knew about the next ones all too well. He thought she
flinched as he rolled her face down. He left her flat on the ground and
got over her, not trying to put his dick in her. Then he pulled her hips
up until she was on her knees and chest. Then he put it in.
He had her lift up onto her elbows and then her hands and then
he lifted her higher with a hand covering each of her breasts. He had it
figured. From there he pulled back and she was squatting over his lap
facing away, his cock off at an exquisite angle.
"And we come right back to her doin' again, and this one is a lot
of work for the gal," he said.
Donna had been watching intently. She seemed fascinated by
the connection where his cock disappeared into Sadie. But that last
comment struck her as a question.
"I don't want to be the one doin' this time," she said, "I want to
feel the difference between the thing Sadie used and the real thing."
"Then maybe we'll just save this stuff until later," he suggested,
"You probably can compare better if I do you just like Sadie did."
He suspected there would be time to do both. Playing at entering
Sadie felt good, but he felt no urgency to get it in and get it off. He had
a feeling that the same would hold true when he climbed between
Donna's legs and gave her the utilitarian screw. Of course, it wasn't
old to Donna and it really was the best way for her to get all the
nuances of him coming up hard on her mound while having the
freedom to play with her and kiss her while they fucked.
For something so simple when he considered it, it was a lot
harder when he was actually inside the squirming teenager. Donna
wasn't in the passive demonstration mode. She was trying to push
herself up to him to get more of his cock even as he was trying to give it
all to her. It was a naive, but still effective effort on her part. The only
thing was it was involving him more than he expected.
He still made her climax without coming himself, but he was
not in the calm, cool mode he was expecting. There wouldn't be much
point in rolling her around and attacking her from other angles because
he was about a dozen strokes from shooting off.
"Anybody want to feel it shoot off in their mouth?" he asked
hopefully.
"You came inside Sadie," Donna pouted, "I want you to come
inside me too."
A pleaser to the end, he lifted off Donna until he was pretty
much straight up and his knees were straddling her butt. Then he
heaved her up and settled back with her facing him in his lap.
"Then we'll both work for it," he told her.
Donna put the lie to his earlier representation of the position.
She worked her hips so frantically as he rocked to drive up into her that
it took no time at all for her to seduce the sperm from his besieged
member.
"I can feel you shooting!" Donna exclaimed as his organ pulsed
within her.
He left Donna on his cock, but motioned with an arm for Sadie
to join them. She gathered in so she was a wrapped around them as best
she could manage and they sat in a three-way embrace while his organ
deflated and finally slipped out of Donna.
It might not be too bad to be into this little threesome,
the unbidden thought teased him. He chased it away with visions of
trying to preach meetings while towing along his teen and her
nearly like-aged daughter. The folk might accept the one, but not both.
"I can tell you I feel well thanked," he told the girls.
"Lucy said you can go all night long," Sadie said, "You're not
goin' to quit already are you?"
He was interested that the word had spread that quick and was
glad he was on his way out of town. On the other hand, he didn't really
have any timetable...
"Did you-all have more plans?" he asked, "Or are we supposed
to wing it?"
He caught Sadie shooting a glance at the picnic basket. It was
just a guilty flick of her eyes to the basket and back, but he knew she
had something on her mind.
"And what special treat is still in that basket?" he asked.
He finally got Sadie to blush. There was something
embarrassing in there for sure. But he was going to make her bring it
out and explain it.
"Aha! Some little fantasy that Sadie keeps locked up deep inside
her," he teased.
"I just don't know how you're going to take it," she started, "And
it's totally okay if we don't bother with it."
He was instantly cautious at that. It didn't sound like he would
be the one on top in whatever Sadie had planned. He was also instantly
curious about what the child had on her mind. He snatched the picnic
basket from Sadie's guard and began to rummage through it. There
were several more dildos and a strap-like costume that looked to be
rigged together out of harnesses. There were feathers and a
small broom and a couple of tubes of some mail-order sex jelly.
"Now which of these things were you intending on using on
me?" he asked.
There was silence as the stared at one another and then
Donna said, "You're gonna have to tell him..."
"It's only, whatchu call 'em, a fantasy-like thing," Sadie started
hesitantly, "I just always wanted- I think I'd like to try- I always been..."
It was a monumentous thing to say, he could see that.
"Just spit it out girl," he scolded.
"I want to switch places with you like we were before," she said.
That made exactly no sense. His puzzled look prompted Sadie to
clear it up.
"You do Donna like me and I be like you," she said, still not
saying the forbidden, but making it come clear in his mind.
His asshole clenched at the thought. He looked at the rubber
penis between her legs with shock.
"Oh no, not with this one," Sadie said, reaching into the basket
and pulling out a smaller toy.
It was designed to be an anal probe, about four inches long and
about half the size around as his own cock. He could see it was also
fitted with an interesting array of ridges on the base that should keep
Sadie very interested in the action. He thought long and hard,
considering. It wasn't much more than a finger, really, and a finger was
usually a welcome addition.
He didn't have any issues with her being on top, but there was
that problem with having people fuck him up his ass. But it would
make her real happy. They were all alone out here. He decided to try it-
see how it went.
It went well enough that he considered, just for a moment mind
you, passing off Donna as his (for whom he had never found a
suitable match, despite her advanced age of 17) and Sadie as his wife-
once her hair grew out anyways. It was better than a finger and it didn't
add so much as multiply the sensation of taking Donna.
And then there was that hard little body pressing up against
him, driving him into the more welcoming one beneath him. Two at
once was very nice.
But it was hardly enough to give up the other million women
that still had evaded his charms on the planet. And it would certainly
cut into his already meager financial resources. It was like seeing a
woman in the congregation, a striking beauty that made him hunger
through the service, and wanting her badly 15 or 20 times. And like
that hunger that loomed so large at the time, it would probably start to
fade after the first half dozen or so tries.
After a couple of rounds of Bourbon and his explaining to both
girls why Mrs. Thames was so enamored of the birch, he took Sadie
like a and got ready to be off.
"Are we ever going to see you again?" Sadie asked plaintively
as he got up to go.
"I don't rightly know," he answered, "But seein' as how you
think you might have a concern, I will try to check up on you two in a
month or so."
Sadie was watching his face rather than listening to his words
again as he spoke. He could tell that she was ready to give him the
benefit of any doubt. The little liked him, that was sure.
"Then I guess we'll have to trust we'll see you again," Sadie
said.
Trust was an interesting choice of words, but it was the sadness
in her voice that affected him. He was always the sucker for a weepy
woman. But he liked this one too much to lie.
"Don't worry about it too much," he told her, "We still haven't
resolved our marriage plans. Like whether they'll be one or not. But you
now what I do. I go where the people are fresh. And there ain't all that
much that I've got under control."
"I guess I just got the hankerin' for another friend," she said.
"Then come with me," he said impulsively.
"She thought you'd never ask," Donna piped up.
"I mean come away with your friend," he said, "I know there's
got to be a better place for you up the road."
She was clearly excited, but her elation faded into a grimace of
realization. She would be leaving Donna and closing the door on her
home forever. She would be happy riding along with him, but her
loyalty meant more than her happiness. She shook her head slowly.
"I can't up and run off. I ain't got much, but everything I got is
here," she said, "So you make an extra effort to come back through here,
even if it's just to wave as you drive by."
He had hit the jackpot for being noble. He had made the big
gesture, worth millions of good guy points and, luckily, been turned
down. He was even a little sad at the rebuff, even though he had been
mentally berating himself since the words passed his lips.
His road was no place for the teen and the changes in his life her
presence would bring were sure to be as much curse as blessing. Easy
pussy was nice. Eager was nice, but he was doing well enough in
that department without having to give up half his sleeping space to a
partner.
He liked her fine and would have been willing to put up with
that to get her out from under her kin, but he wasn't suffering much of a
loss when she decided to stay home. His free spirit had won and his
honest soul had won. He decided to hit the road before used up his hot
streak.
------------------------------------------End I