Author's Note:
Thanks for the warm reception of my first two stories. I appreciate you taking the time to read and comment. Even the Anonymous trolls are fun to read. I hope you enjoy this one. Again, like my first two, this one contains no sex. I just haven't figured out how to write that yet and I may never get the nerve.
Also, for this story, fellow Literotica writer Omegaman56 has graciously allowed me to borrow a construct from his story An Agency of the Government. Please check it out. It's a good one.
An Agency of the Government
Thanks,
OldHistoryGuy
*****
Chapter One
I spotted him right off. He was no silver-haired, Armani-suited swindler like Swaggart or Falwell. He was a spike-haired, goateed, fake-tanned hipster in Dockers, Hawaiian shirt, linen jacket, and Topsiders without socks. But he was still a Pastor Pussy Hound.
My wife and I were waiting in line to shake the new preacher's hand on our way out of church. The queue moved slowly out the front door as God's Appointed stood with his blonde bombshell wife and greeted his new congregation. I noticed the typical glad-handing with the males - just looking for the next hand, but with the females...oh my, his face lit up and his enthusiasm doubled. I was looking forward to seeing his reaction to my wife Allie, who really is God's gift to men.
I wasn't disappointed. When she stepped up and offered her hand, I thought he was going to stroke out on us. His eyes got big, his smile split his head, and his face even flushed through his tanning-bed skin. "Unctuous" doesn't even begin to describe his brief conversation with Allie, which he tried mightily to prolong by holding onto her hand, as he nodded perfunctorily to me. I finally managed to extricate us from Pastor Rick and his wife Christy, exiting to his solemn declaration that "he looked forward to working with us in the fields ripe unto harvest." My alarm bells went off. Troubled waters lay ahead.
I was not surprised by his reaction to my wife. She is perhaps the most beautiful woman alive. And not just by my reckoning - everyone who sees her agrees. Every man who's married a pretty wife knows how men's eyes turn to her when she walks in a room. Allie turns men's AND women's' heads. And it's more aesthetic than sexual - she's extraordinarily beautiful - tall, long legs, long auburn hair, sparkling green eyes, porcelain skin, slim waist, voluptuous figure. If you remember your old actresses, she looks a lot like Maureen O'Hara.
As for me? I am extraordinarily average: average height, average weight, average looks. There is nothing striking or imposing about me. I am a cross between Clark Kent and Peter Parker without the superhero tendencies. And, I am an accountant.
What is she doing with me, you ask? I ask myself that same question every morning when I wake up beside her. We met in church, dated six months, got engaged, then married three months later. In those nine months total, I came to love Allie more than life itself. You see, her looks were just the tip of the iceberg. I discovered that my wife was even lovelier inside. She was brought up by very devout parents, who believed in a loving, gracious God, so Allie grew up to be the most welcoming, accepting, and least judgmental person I've ever met. She was home-schooled all those years, so she was also the most innocent, naive, and gullible person I'd known. And, I never wanted to change that. I wanted her always to believe in goodness and light. And I would protect her from evil and darkness.
"Well, what did you think of the new pastor?" I asked on the ride home.
"I thought he was great! I really liked the sermon - it was very positive and uplifting, and I liked it when he called all the kids up front for a children's sermon. And when we met him and his wife at the door, I thought they were both very nice. But they're a lot younger than any pastors we've had before, so that may take some getting used to. What did you think?"
"Not bad...I thought the message was okay - a little light on the scripture, but he's a good speaker. Talked a little more like a coach than a preacher, though. But I'll get used to it. Just like I did with the contemporary worship thing - you know, the 7-11 music - 7 words repeated 11 times."
She rolled her eyes at me and groaned, and we held hands the rest of the way home.
Chapter Two
It didn't take long for the serpent to raise his ugly head.
Two days later, Tuesday afternoon, my home security system pinged my work desktop. I opened up the remote camera view app and saw a strange black Toyota SUV pull into my driveway. I watched as Pastor Rick walked around to open the passenger door and then escorted my wife to our front porch. Taking her two hands in his, he pulled her into a hug, then turned and went back to his car. He paused to wave to her, before backing out into the street.
I shut down my computer, cut the lights, and closed the office door behind me. I was going home - the game was afoot.
When I got there, I knew I needed to get Allie to tell me about her day - she was unaware of the security system and I wanted her to stay that way for now.
"You're home early. I'm glad! Now you can run me back to the church to get my car. It wouldn't start when I left work, but Pastor Rick graciously offered to bring me home. He was going by to visit some shut-ins in our neighborhood, so he dropped me off. I think it's just the battery on the car - it made that clicking sound when I pushed the button."
"Ok, honey - sorry you had trouble with the car. I should have replaced that battery last time this happened. Let me grab my Fat Max and we'll go get it. And forget cooking anything - on the way back, I'll pick up a pizza."
Sure enough, it kicked right off with the jump start box, and I drove straight to Advance Auto to get the battery replaced. I then stopped by Little Caesar's for one of their Hot and Ready pizzas. While we were eating, Allie went on and on about how nice Pastor Rick was to give her a ride home. I nodded and harrumphed, but said nothing to deflate her gratitude. But inwardly I was kicking myself for forgetting that Allie, the Church's Assistant Children's Minister, would be regularly exposed to Pastor Pussy Hound.
Chapter Three
Yes, Allie, though naive, innocent, and gullible, was no dummy. She had attended college, majoring in Christian Studies at Ouachita Baptist University in Arkadelphia, Arkansas. After graduation, she started work at the Church in the Valley in Huntsville, Alabama. I got my accounting degree at the University of Alabama, and after my four-year ROTC commitment to the Army, I began work for a government agency in Huntsville. Looking for a place of worship, I ended up at Valley, where I met Allison. She had become a valued member of the church staff; she loved her work, loved her church kids, and looked forward to having her own. She was 24; I was 28. After three years of marriage, we were on the glide path to parenthood, if our serpent didn't get in the way.
I began to show more interest in Allie's work. I began questioning her daily about the details of her job, listening for any mention of Pastor Rick or his wife. For a few weeks, I randomly dropped by the Church to check in with Allie or take her to lunch, never making contact with the pastor. And, with the help of an IT guru co-worker, I got into the Church security system, so I could remotely view the camera feeds at any time. And because of the many child abuse scandals going around, the Church had cameras in every room a kid might wander into, including Allie's office. I didn't like the idea of invading her privacy, but I was in protection mode.
And, it wasn't too long before the snake slithered out of his hole. As Easter season approached, the whole Church was preparing for the annual Living Cross program - a presentation of the Easter story with over a hundred choir and cast members. Since the cast included a large number of kids, Allie was appointed the Co-Director. This meant she would have to work closely with the Pastor, who was going to narrate the production. I was sure that his idea of "working closely" would not agree with mine. I attended the first couple of rehearsals in person, but I felt conspicuous. I didn't want to arouse any suspicions, so, I resigned myself to watching hours of sessions through the Church security cameras. After a week of that, the only thing I had noticed was that the pastor was very "handsy" with my wife. He was that way with all the ladies, but doubly so with Allie. If he was near her, if he was talking to her, he was touching her somewhere - a pat on the arm, a hand on the shoulder, a grip of her hand. One time, he tucked a wayward lock of hair back behind her ear. Another time, he picked a piece of lint or string off her sweater above her breast. Seeing that, my blood pressure about tripled. He also began dropping by her office to "encourage" her daily. Allison, however, never noticed any of this. She innocently ignored it; she couldn't bring herself to imagine sinister motives in her pastor.
I could. And, I resolved to do something about it.
Chapter Four
As Palm Sunday approached, Allie and company were completely engaged with rehearsals, and stress levels were off the charts. Allie stumbled home completely drained and barely slept.
"Honey, I know the performance is coming up, but if you don't slow down and get some rest, you're going to collapse."
"After dress rehearsal tonight, just three more days, Matt! Yes, I'm exhausted but I can see the end and I've got to push on through - can't collapse until Monday."
I retreated to my home office and camped out in front of my monitors to watch every minute of the dress rehearsal. The first hour was uneventful, and I was amazed at how well my wife "herded her cats" and got such performances out of the children. Midway through the crucifixion scene, however, one of the crosses twisted out of its bracket and conked one of the twelve-year-old boys on the head. Unfortunately for the production, he was playing the principal child character - the kid to whom the pastor was telling the story. I watched Allie come apart - first, out of concern for the boy, Jonathan, who was concussed and needed stitches, and second, out of concern for the production, which was now missing a main character. Sobbing loudly, she ran to her office. Pastor Rick jumped up and followed her. Switching my view to her office, I watched their exchange closely. As she sat sobbing on the front of her desk, Pastor Rick, or Prick, as I should call him, stepped up closely and began rubbing both her arms. Feeling overwhelmed and seeking comfort, Allie collapsed into his embrace and buried her face in his chest. He ate it up. I know, because I was watching him. He buried his nose in her hair and kissed the top of her head several times, while clucking and shushing. As she quieted, she pulled back from him and he bent down and lightly kissed her on the lips. Her eyes widened and she placed her hand over her mouth, but she said nothing.
"Don't worry. We'll find a solution. Now, let's go back out there and figure it out," he said.
And they did - they plugged in Jonathan's ten-year-old sister, who had memorized the part from listening to her brother rehearse, proving that she was smarter than him, or any other boy alive. The production went off without a hitch, to the acclaim of the Church and the community.
Naturally, Pastor Rick was pleased with this success and his role in it. He decided to reward the other directors and leaders by taking them to lunch on Tuesday after Easter. Allie was exhilarated. The narrowly-averted disaster had brought her from the lowest low to the highest high. She said she couldn't remember when she last felt so alive.
I had noticed.
"You're certainly riding a pink cloud, Lady."
"Yes, I am, Matt. I'm so happy the play went well and I hope it was a blessing to everyone who saw it."
