Preachers Pulpit Parishioners And...

-IAN

I saw her as soon as they walked in. Her face wasn't familiar although I knew her husband. Was Samson her husband? I had never paid attention to Samson's ring finger before and I couldn't see it from here. Even trying to get a closer look during altar call didn't help.

She wasn't what I called "fine" but extremely sexy. The way she walked around the offering table...ummm.

She wasn't wearing anything revealing but cut to fit her body. A simple navy dress that skimmed slightly over her hips and stopping mid-calf was so enticing. Her style of dressing baring the same resemblance of that of Robin Givens in the movie "A Rage in Harlem." Looking so much like a lady but sexy and classic at the same time. No wonder Forest Whitaker was sucking her toes like a tootsie pop. The only differences were the curves this woman possessed. She appeared to be 5'2 despite the provocative heels that heightened her a few inches.

I hoped no one noticed the slight bulge I felt pressing against my pants.

Good thing I wore my "preachers robe" over my normal attire. It was a little warmer than usual but I truly was grateful for it now.

I know that most preachers have reputations of being "partial" to the ladies, but not me. Living in California for 30 years had a way of opening your eyes to what God was trying to tell you. I had my fair share of the streets of chasing and being chased by women and enemies alike. After getting shot three times during an "altercation" I knew it was time to stop doing things my way and do things the Lords way.

No I'm not a saint. In fact im FAR from perfect. I still fantasize about women and even now as I sit her with my eyes glued to this mesmerizing woman sitting a few yards away I felt some sort of guilt.

Here I was thinking obscene thoughts about a woman I never met. Possibly a married woman at that.

Since taking this pastoral position here at St. Peter Baptist, all of the deaconesses were trying to play matchmaker between me and any single friend or relative they had. This Louisiana church was located in a hometown community where if you forgot your own business all you had to do was ask your neighbor or anyone around town for that matter. For this reason I was careful with the things I did, places I frequented and taking careful notice of the words that parted my lips. I didn't want any unessaceary gossip from onlookers.

"Would any visitors like to stand and have a word?" said Tonya after reading through the numerous announcements.

Why do we have to endure sitting through countless announcements that are forgotten before church is even over with when they could be printed on the program? This would save time and allow for the members to save them for future reference.

Oh well I guess this was just another tradition that would continue for now. After all what's another 5 or 10 minutes added to the already lengthy service?

Looking out over the crowd after Tonya's invitation to the visitors, made me thankful of this tradition in most black churches. Maybe now the young lady sitting beside Samson would make herself known.

"Well if there are no visitors that would like to stand and have a word, the doors of St. Peter B.C. are always open. Thank you for worshipping with us and please come again to the church Where Everybody is Somebody, under the leadership of Pastor Ian-Alexander Bronson"

Tonya looked back at me after completing the church motto making sure that I was watching her as she swayed her hips while she took her seat.

Only a few hours ago she had stopped by my home to deliver my ironed robe for today's service. When I told her thanks and asked how much I owed her she dropped to her knees in prayer, or so I thought. 10 minutes later she was kneeling in front of me speaking in tongues to my dick. I wasn't proud of this but it sure relieved some pressure. Spraying cum over her face all I could think about were the women that I prostituted in my past life. You would never know that these women were prostitutes. By looking at them, they were immaculate. Finest clothes, jewelry, and cars. These women would turn tricks just for a chance to live a lavish lifestyle often times marrying the rich guys that loved having a 'showpiece' on his arm. Yeah they thought they were high dollar but to me that was just another name for expensive whores that I profited from.

Looking at Tonya sit beside her husband in her Sundays best made her even less desirable than before. Whores like her were the reason I would never cum in their mouth. Before removing my dick from her mouth earlier she was begging me to let her swallow my nut. This was a no no.

I wouldn't give her the pleasure of tasting my soul.

Tonya was the kind of woman that thought because she was fine and could suck a good dick they could have any man they wanted to. She was sneaky and had her husband under her spell, but not me. She was going to learn and if she continued to pursue me, I was going to have to teach her.

But for now I was wondering why the lady in blue hadn't stood to have a word. All I wanted to do was know here name. Just to put a voice to that face. I could wait until after church but what if she left immediately? I knew there was a chance that sister Edwards would corner me as soon as the amen's were said and I didn't want to take that chance.

"Amen. Let the church say Amen." I begin to speak.

It was now time for the Pastors observations. Trying not to be so obvious about wanting to know more about the new visitor who captured my attention, I begin to speak of the churches renovations and the upcoming youth bake sale. After thoroughly giving information about the upcoming events it was time to get to the reason I was hiding the bulge in my pants.

I acknowledged Samson out of courtesy and I could see her looking at me with anticipation.

I studied her Mahogany skin carefully.

Flawless.

Perfectly applied makeup.

Lips painted red as if the color was extracted from a strawberry by angels just for her.

"Your are so beautiful." I heard my voice echo over the microphone.

Briefly asking her a few questions and hearing her response I took my seat.

Did I just say that aloud?

"What is wrong with you!" my mind was screaming at me.

I couldn't believe that I just said that standing in the pulpit. I was always in control of things. I had seen many beautiful women throughout my lifetime so why did this feel new?

I didn't regret the things that I said I just know that by this comment alone members of my congregation would raise suspicion as to why I was showing interest in her.

As I listened to the choir sing its final hymn I saw Tonya staring me down with anger as if she was cutting through me like a hot knife through butter.

I was going to have to be extremely careful of my words and actions even more now.

I looked towards the heavens and uttered a simple prayer.

"Lord help me, and please shield me from the devils and demons of this world. Amen."

II. TONYA

I know like hell he didn't think that I was going to sit on that uncomfortable church pew and listen as he swooned over another bitch, I was milking his dick with my mouth moments before he put on his 'Mercy robe'.

He wasn't fooling me acting like he wasn't like any of the other preachers. I could see the way he looked at my ass and breasts when I walked by.

When he first came here I had to have him. He was so different than my husband and when I saw the enormous size of his penis, it confirmed how different.

Ian exuded so much confidence when he walked and talked. I even heard my husband and the other deacons speak of him in high regard. All of the women of the church wanted him and if they were married and couldn't have him they would try to make him interested in their daughters, cousins, sisters or friends. He never seemed interested. That's why I had to pick the perfect time to catch him and it worked just how I planned it to two weeks ago. He didn't seem uninterested then and I had the cum that dripped from my chin onto my dress to prove it. Monica Lewinsky didn't have shit on me.

I realized at an early age that no man could resist me with the swish of my tongue and the wiggle in my hips. That's why I after working my magic on him that wonderful Sunday morning, I wondered why he seemed intrigued by Samson's bitch for a girlfriend Blake. I didn't like her in school. Always somewhere with her nose in a book or getting some award. If you asked me she wasn't all that and I personally thought she didn't deserve my cousin. He was a kind man that did anything to make her happy. Buying her presents and everything for no reason at all. Then she had the nerve to show up at church knowing that the majority of my family felt the same as me. When she and Samson came by for the family gathering my husband, being the gentleman that his weak ass always is, begin pulling out chairs and waiting on her hand and foot. I understood she was a guest but she wasn't royalty. That compliment that Pastor Bronson gave her must have gone to her head. You should have seen her when I brought him up in conversation. She was hanging on every word. I could see the surprise on her face when I called him 'Ian'.

That's right bitch I know him like that I thought and I plan on knowing him a lot better.

-BLAKE

Samson was working more and more at St. Peter since he came back from his Charlotte trip. Sometimes he stayed so late that I would have to leave his dinner in the microwave for him. The church must have needed serious help if Samson's expertise was called for. He was the best CPA around.

That was part of our reason for moving back to our hometown after living out of state for so long. Samson wanted to start his own accounting firm and thought this was the perfect market to do so. Of course I didn't make any objections when he asked me to quit my job at the hospital and move back with him. If this was my mans dream then I was going to support him. After all that is what a good woman does, right? I was tired of the hustle and bustle of the city anyway.

When I graduated high school the first thing I did was buy a ticket out of here. It wasn't because I hated the town but I knew in order to make something of myself I had to go. Growing up in a two bedroom home resembling that of old slave quarters made me want more for my family. I studied hard and put myself through school with the help of scholarships and grants. Becoming an Internal Medicine doctor was hard work and even harder if you were a double minority, an African American woman.

Not only was moving back a good opportunity for Samson but this was the ideal community to open a family clinic. Many people that lived within a 20 mile radius of here had never been to a doctor unless it was when they were born. Most of the residents didn't possess the finances to see a physician on a regular basis and those who were fortunate enough to have the money, underestimated the necessity of getting annual exams. I had always cared for people and saw the need for medical service in this area. Even though conventional medicine and diagnosis was what I practiced but most of the people here only knew about 'home remedies'. These remedies came in handy when you were ailing and either couldn't get to the next town to the pharmacy or just didn't have the money to make purchases.

Samson's theory was that it wasn't anyone's fault for people being poor or lacking.

I tried to remind him that everyone wasn't raised with a silver spoon in their mouth like him. When the conversation would come up about me working in the next town over, Ouachita (wash-e-taw) parish, he quickly silenced it. Not tonight.

"We've been back for almost 2 months now. Don't you think it would be best for me to start bringing in some additional income for us baby?" I said trying to butter him up and prevent an argument.

"You know that I appreciate the things you do around the house. Plus if you're going to be 'doctoring' anyone it's going to be your husband." he told me eating a spoonful of warm peach cobbler and ice cream.

"Husband? You haven't even proposed. Plus it's only so much cooking and cleaning to be done here. I didn't spend all of those years struggling to make ends meet in med school to be your personal physician." I told him matter-of-factly as I strolled to the sink.

He was beginning to piss me off.

"As long as I can remember ive had a dream to help those that needed it. You knew medicine was my first love when you met me.

When you asked me to not let anyone know that I was a doctor before coming here I agreed. Are you ashamed of what I do? Most men would jump up and down for an opportunity to be with me, if only to get free medical benefits. But you're so intimidated by me and my profession that you hide it from your family and your parents because you want to be seen as the 'breadwinner'. I'm 32. I finished at the top of my class and worked with some of the best in my field. Now you just want me to forget about who I am? I'm sorry Samson but I can't do that."

"I'm sorry I didn't catch that." he said tilting his head to the side but never looking at me.

"You heard me."

I was going to stand my ground.

"With the amount of money I generate, you can be my personal CPA." I said winking at him.

I loved Samson but he could be so stubborn at times.

Turning to rinse the last of the remaining dishes I didn't hear him approach me.

"Ummm...that feels good."

The way he was massaging my neck was amazing. There had been so much tension in my body lately.

"This is one of my favorite spots. Have I ever told you that Blake? So delicate, so sensitive the neck is. "

I could feel the pressure from his fingers increase and the pleasure was becoming painful as he gripped my neck. The look that I saw reflected in the kitchen window was one that I had seen before.

Samson was angry.

I never thought of myself as a weak woman. The type to be 'insecure' enough to let a man strike them but I realize that it wasn't insecurity that always made a woman stay. It was often times the hope that you could love someone enough to make them happy. So happy that their love for you would outweigh the urge to abuse you.

This cure for abuse hadn't worked for me because I felt myself become dizzy as his grip became tighter.

There was noting in the sudsy water to aid in my defense. Nothing. I was losing consciousness quickly. Felling myself falling to the floor I heard him begin to unbuckle his belt.

Everything went black.

What had I done to awaken to being kicked and beaten with a leather belt? How long had I been unconscious? I rolled in a ball to protect myself from the painful blows he was administering. Since there was no chance of my almost limp body escaping, I knew it was critical to protect my vital organs. My physical strength was nothing compared to his. I knew from treating patients before that in a situation like this it would be better to protect yourself and wait for the assailant to leave or tire out before you moved, to avoid exposing yourself to the harmful fists or claws be it human or animal.

When he moved closer to me my hands went up defensively to protect my head and face.

"Yeah cover your beautiful face. I wouldn't want to fuck that up. If I have to look at you at least you can do is look presentable."

My body ached laying here on the cold wooden floor.

Only after hearing the bathroom door shut and the shower run did I try to move. My body wouldn't cooperate. It had betrayed me just like Samson.

I lay there thinking of all the nights my siblings and I slept in a cold home having to load the wood heater every couple of hours. The days and nights I had to warm water on the heater just to bathe. Those were hard times. Laying here I wished for those times. A time when I felt secure and safe.

My eyes closed and as I felt myself fading once more I began to pray the prayer my mouth muttered without hesitation...

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.

Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen

III. BLAKE

Waking up to the sun shining through the window and birds chirping reminded me that God was still watching over me. I couldn't believe I had slept here all night. Samson must have covered me up before he left the note that I saw beside me. When I begin to move all I could feel was the skin weeps that had been left by the leather belt hours ago. A hot bath filled with Epsom salt would truly be needed today.

Boy did this feel good to my aching body. Letting the steam filled bathroom engulf me I reveled in the hot water...

I must have fallen asleep again because when I woke up I could feel the water getting cold and my skin had started to wrinkle. I finished bathing and towel dried my bruised body. The purple and blue marks shown slightly through my dark skin.

Looking into the mirror, I reached for my Ed Hardy lotion and begin to rub the shimmery cream into my skin. Its true I thought upon reading the container, 'Love, Kills, Slowly'.

Who was this woman staring back at me? Where was the woman that I had carefully sculpted through years of education and acts of humanity? Life definitely has a way of being a bully sometimes. Sometimes I have a problem with hiding my feelings even from myself. I had never spoke these words because they could often times be misinterpreted. But when Samson came into my life I was tired, emotionally and physically. Since I had moved away to attend school in Charlotte, it was always a struggle. Here I was in a humongous city with no one but myself and God. And after putting myself through years of schooling and maintaining two jobs, I was tired. Any extra money that I had was spent on necessities and my family who had moved further south of Richwood to take care of my grandparents. They never asked for anything and always gave me encouragement.

I never knew how ruthless people of the world could be until I experienced it for myself.

When I wasn't at work or school, I was on my way to work or school because I had to spend so many hours of my day on city transportation. Looking back I think of how determined I was. 'By any means necessary' was my slogan and when I met Samson I applied it.

Samson recognized me almost immediately when I saw him. Out of all the places in the world we both could have been, we were here at the same airport. It had to be fate we thought. After all these years away and never speaking to each other when we crossed paths in our hometown, here we were. Samson and I came from different sides of the track and couldn't have been raised more differently.

He was tall and cute with great credentials and he had a car. I went from food rations and walking to exclusive restaurants and wheels. And since we were from the same hometown, I finally felt I had a friend. Don't get me wrong these things were great to have but what ultimately made me stay with him was the man that I saw he could be. He needed my emotional support and I needed him in other areas. Before we moved together in Charlotte we were just friends. Hanging out and getting to know one another until we decided to take it to the next level. Sex was horrible the first time together. How could he think that a health clinic condom would work? I was all for safety but one of my rules was once you get to a certain age you should spend the extra few dollars for condoms. That's just what grown people do. And just like a woman has to be fitted for a bra, a man should be required to be fitted for condoms.