*Disclaimer: Any persons engaging in sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
*
Chapter 1
The portly man put a smile on his face as the Farmers came out of the small building. He did not like the Farmers; John Farmer made less money than his wife, and it was quite obvious to all that his wife wore the pants in their family. The Bible clearly stated that the man should be the Head of the household. How any man could allow his wife to work outside of the home anyway was a mystery to him.
But he did like their money; Leah believed in tithing at least one-tenth of her monthly income. She was also quite generous with their income when Christmas time approached.
Now, their child, Mary Farmer, she was a real cutie pie. Even with the clothing that went from throat to ankles, he could tell she had a sweet, ripe little body underneath all the clothing. Even before his wife left him, he'd noticed how little Mary was growing into a fine young lady. And her meek and humble demeanor matched her beauty in his eyes.
"Oh, I bet she'd cry and beg me to stop," he thought and shifted his trousers slightly, to disguise his growing erection.
"Morning, Reverend," John said.
"Good morning Brother John," Reverend Smith smiled.
"Got a question for you," John said, no smile on his face.
"Mm?" Zechariah waited.
"What do you know about Alcoholics Anonymous?" John asked.
"Why, what do you mean?" Zechariah asked.
"Well, I'm just wondering, you were pretty quick to condemn them, so I'm just wondering if you've ever been to their meetings," John asked.
"Brother John, I do not need to stick my hands into the fires of Hell to know I do not want to go there," Reverend Smith intoned.
"So, without ever having been to any of their meetings, you just pass judgment on them?" John asked.
"Again, Brother..." Zechariah Smith sanctimoniously sneered.
"Have a nice day," John snapped and walked away.
Leah squeezed his hand as he drove the car toward their home.
Once home, she asked Mary to fix their lunch; she had to talk with Daddy. Leah pulled John into their bedroom.
"I have been thinking," she said quietly. "I have been thinking that it may be time for us to look at attending another church."
"You're joking," John said, stunned.
"John, I know," she said.
"What?" he asked still stunned.
"I know. I know where you've been going on your lunch breaks," Leah said.
"Oh," he said and looked away.
"And I know I've never been prouder of you, never been more in love with you, and to hear that bubble butt just stand there..." Leah said.
"That WHAT?" John laughed.
Leah smiled a self-conscious little smile.
"That FAT ASS just stand there and condemn a place that gave me back the man that I love, well, John, what else has he been wrong about?" Leah asked.
"How long have you known?" John asked her.
"A couple of weeks," Leah admitted. "And John, I'm so proud of you I could just bust; I know they're not sinful, they're not a cult. And to hear that man not even bother to answer your question, well I just don't know."
"We'll pray about it," John decided.
"Good idea," Leah laughed.
----
Amber was pissed. Amber was beyond pissed. She didn't know what kind of power game Babette was playing, not answering her phone, and when she did, acting like she was just too busy to talk, but Amber didn't like it one bit.
"Fucking dyke," she snarled under her breath when the cheerful little message came up again.
"Oh damn! Must have lost my cell phone again! I hate that when that happens! Oh well, leave a message and when I find my phone again I'll give you a call, okay? Bye!" Babette's cheerful voice said.
Tank didn't answer his phone either. Grace's mom wouldn't let anyone come over and wouldn't let Grace go anywhere.
Amber called Tyrell Landry; he was always good for a fuck and, if he had the dope, would share it. She smiled, wondering how Babette would like that; her lover fucking a black guy.
Babette was busy doing her aerobics exercise and did not hear the cell phone ringing.
----
Oscar had damned near given his cock brush burns reliving and re-reliving that good night kiss.
Her arms had gone around him, around his shoulders; he could feel her forearms against his neck. Her breasts were nice and firm, but had just a little bit of give to them when they pressed against his chest. Her lips had been so nice and soft; her tongue had felt like nothing he'd ever imagined. Her skin smelled nice and clean, her perfume smelled a little of musk.
He sighed and wandered back down the hall to the bathroom again, his trousers tenting out in front of him.
----
Meals in the Kowalski home were normally quiet, tense affairs. You just never knew what kind of mood James Kowalski would be in. If he'd had two or three beers, he'd be in a fairly good mood. If he'd been into the bourbon, he'd be in a mean temperament. He was most foul, quickest to lash out with fists or words if he'd had no alcohol at all.
"This is pretty good,'" he said and Thomas and Jim let their breath out.
Theresa also let her breath out and beamed with pride.
He'd had a couple of beers; he was in a good mood.
"So, Tommy, tell me about this midget you've been screwing," James said.
"Dad!" Thomas exclaimed.
"What?" James asked. "I'm not supposed to know about her?"
"We're not 'screwing,'" Thomas grumbled.
"Oh?" James sneered. "Why not? Bitch don't put out?"
"Dad, she's a really nice girl," Thomas sighed. "Real religious, you know?"
Sometimes he hated his father. The knowledge made him sick, though. It's wrong to hate your own father.
----
Britney bubbled as she went on and on about Oscar and their date.
Under the table, Allison nudged Charlie. He put his hand on her leg and smiled sadly.
