Preacher's wife
This happened some time ago in Nashville. I was a single guy in my early 20s, working and doing okay. I had a roommate that wasn't a bad guy, but he had some anger issues and apparently that kept him from having a girlfriend for very long.
While I worked a lot. I was also the most active musically at the time in three different bands. One straight ahead rock band, one punk band and then an acoustic duo with my roommate on open mic nights specifically to get that tip jar money and free beer.
At the time I was involved with a few women. One of which still perplexes me. All the ingredients were there for great sex, but it was never great or good or even serviceable. There was just an odd lack of chemistry that I had not experienced before. This story isn't about her or our unenthusiastic sex.
This story is about Hannah. So you've heard the term "you can't turn a white I to a housewife?" Well my front door neighbor in my apartment complex was this preacher. Friendly enough black guy, but everything about him screamed out hustler preacher. The kind of guy that passes out the collection plate before you even sit down. I've been a non-believer most of my life so these type of guys are just con artists with a captive audience to me.
About 3 months into living at this apartment I've had women coming in and out and I did get around. Even fucking the lead guitarist in my primary band before she settle down and got married. I even fucked my roommate's ex in the ass after a night of drinking. Apparently he passed out when they were having sex and she still needed to get off and she considered anal not cheating. Her name was Hannah too, but for the purposes of this story she is Hannah1.
I had never seen the preacher have any visitors at his apartment. The one day as I'm leaving the apartment to take out the trash his door opens at the same time and I'm thinking I have to go through the fake pleasantries again. Rather than the preacher some out it was this skinny white girl with a pretty face, green eyes and short, mouse brown hair. First thought was, "Oh damn. Preacher finally got laid. About damn time."
Then the preacher comes out behind her and I give him a proud knowing look. He introduces her as Hannah, his wife.
Wife? I thought to myself I didn't even know he was married. Granted I never looked to see if he had a wedding band in or not. Simple introductions and he tells me they have been together since high school, but there was a tension there I couldn't pin point at the time.
We walked out into the parking lot together and parted ways as I took the trash to the dumpster while they got into his Honda and left. Hannah was a cute girl and something told me her nerdy looks hid something. I found out later what it was.
Whenever I was home alone and Hannah was too she started to come over for visits and join me for a couple beers and listening to music. She knew the preacher's schedule so well she knew when she had to leave so he wouldn't suspect she was hanging out with me. The way she was so sneaky let me know real quick she had done this before.
Over a couple months of us hanging out she told me a little bit about her past. She was kind of a wild girl in her home town until she met the preacher when they were both still in high school. He helped her settle down, but she still cheated on him a lot with the more thuggish guys. Eventually they got married and she stopped fucking around for a bit, but she slipped up and got caught fucking one of her female best friends in their home town and it became a scandal.
They moved around and eventually she moved back in with her folks while he came to Nashville to be a youth pastor/preacher. I think she though they were moving towards a divorce, but he forgave her and eventually she moved to be with him again. Obviously her inclination for seeing other people was still there otherwise she wouldn't always be hanging out with me when he was doing youth pastor stuff or at the church doing whatever they do.
My roommate didn't like where this was going. He was nominally a Christian, but like most Americans it's just a name and not a practice.