"The word of God to the people of God. And all of God's people said?"
"Amen," Brian muttered to himself with 30 other congregation members of the Highlands Methodist Church. Pastor Jeff had just finished his lead-on devotional reading for this week's sermon. It was some gibberish from the Old Testament – Brian never understood why he frequently went back to the Old Testament in his preaching.
"The bastard's probably a Jew," Brian muttered loud enough that anyone around him would have been able hear.
Luckily for Brian this week, Highlands, a century-old church nestled on the outskirts of the main drag in a small town of London in western Indiana, was sparsely populated on this Sunday's service. The 40 odd-some row of old, wooden pews could seat about 300 people, just a few dozen more members than the church had. Brian was sitting only two rows in from the main door of the sanctuary on the aisle alone this week, the first time he had ever attended church alone. Always before he had someone – his mother, father, sister, friend, or wife – sit with him.
The church was the largest in London, a small town of about 4,000 people. It was one of several churches in a community that, despite the recent economic downturn, had continued to limp along, due most in part to the fact that London is the living grounds for many businessmen and workers in Indianapolis who commuted to the state's capital. Brian works in the big city himself, and is a staffer for the Vice President of a large phone corporation.
'Work', Brian thought to himself. 'It's going to be a great week starting tomorrow. And I have to drag my ass out of bed early on a Sunday morning for this, my day off, so I can drag it out of bed again for the next five days too.'
Brian used to enjoy work. He used to enjoy Church. In fact, it was just one week ago that he enjoyed Highlands. But not anymore. It had changed just last Thursday, when life as he knew it took a turn he never suspected.
Brian had left his company two hours early to surprise his wife of five years, Diane, and take her back to Indianapolis for a night on the town. When he pulled into the driveway of their two-story palatial estate, he was somewhat surprised to see an old red Ford Ranger pickup truck in the driveway. He parked his Dodge Ram in the driveway and went into the house to see who his wife was keeping company – perhaps a member of Highlands? Diane was one of the leaders of the Women's Mission, and he knew she frequently had guests over.
He opened the door into their living room, noticing the couch empty and the flat-screen television off. He turned to the left and walked toward the hallway that led to a guest room, their master bedroom, bathroom, and staircase to the second floor. Just before the staircase to the left was the door to the master bedroom. The door was slightly cracked open, and Brian heard noise.
'What?' he thought to himself. He went down the hall quickly and threw open the door. He stepped in, his mouth dropped, and his heart sank – almost as if it had fallen through a hole in his chest and onto the carpet below. He steadied himself against the dresser that lined the wall, staring back at the scene he saw on the King-size bed in front of him.
There lay his beloved wife, Diane, naked, on her back, her legs wide apart. Her tan, toned body was covered in beads of sweat. Standing over her was a, a – a what!?!?
A man, covered in hair, with sagging skin, turned and looked at the new vistor to the bedroom. It was a he – a hairy he. But he was wearing a long, dark-haired wig, had thick makeup and lipstick on, and had his engorged penis stuck in Brian's wife's vagina. Brian studied the man closely. His back and chest were covered in hair, but his arms, his face, and his legs, were... shaven!
Brian leaned on the dresser with greater force as the realization sank in. His wife was cheating on him – in their own bed – with a cross-dressing, older man. The cross-dresser pulled out of Diane in shock, aiming himself at Brian, his mouth open. The cross dressers' penis suddenly unleashed a fury of sperm on his wife's leg.
"Oh yeah! Give it to me baby!" Diane moaned, arching her back.
"Oh God!" Brian cried.
"Uh-oh," the cross-dresser said in a deep, husky voice, blushing even over the heavy make-up, looking shamefully down at the mess he just created. He quickly covered himself with his hands.
"What's a matter, baby?" Diane asked, lifting her head and smiling, making her face visible to Brian for the first time.
"Oh GOD!" Brian cried louder.
Diane sharply turned to see her husband standing dumbfounded, leaning on the dresser. She had her hair tied up, hidden underneath one of Brian's Indianapolis Colts' sports hat, with a fake mustache under her nose.
The contrast was stark. Diane was a 31-year-old, fit blonde, with abs, a gorgeous pair of symmetrical, C-cup breasts, and long legs that gave her a tall, 5-9 frame. The cross-dresser was only an inch taller, with sagging, white skin, and an unkempt looking body. His makeup was smeared as a result of the passions he just endured.
Brian looked at his wife in horror. He placed his other hand on the dresser and held up his now free hand over his mouth.
"I think I'm going to be sick!" he cried.
Diane sat up quickly, took a hand over the discharge the cross-dresser had unleashed on her leg, picked some of the sperm up, and flung it at Brian's face. He felt what felt like light raindrops touch his face.
"Oh God!" Brian cried again, looking down and vomiting his lunch on the floor.
"You see what happens when I let you stay late, Cindy?" Diane asked the now-named cross-dresser. "This asshole has to show up."
"I'm so sorry for the trouble," 'Cindy' replied in a now much lighter voice. He, she, or whatever it was now put on her clothes – yes, her clothes, as it was a thong, skirt, and sleeveless top.
"You did nothing wrong," Diane stated, now wiping the rest of the mess on her leg off with a sheet on the bed. "Finish getting dressed and go to your truck. I'll be out in a few minutes."
"Oh dear," 'Cindy' said as she put on her high heeled shoes, and scurried past Brian through the door and out into the hallway.
Diane stood, her naked body glistening from the sunlight entering through the windows in the room. She promptly took off her hat, undid her hair, and ripped of the fake mustache under her nose. She straightened herself, shifted her body weight to her left side, and placed her left hand on her left leg. She stared with her blue eyes right into Brian's brown eyes.
