Abductee Extras 4
A few days after meeting Marilyn, my fabulous abductee counterpart, I was shopping for food in the local supermarket, a branch of a national chain store when I saw a woman dressed all in black. I just caught a glimpse of her face in profile, but I could see straight off that she was beautiful in a straight laced, well-scrubbed way. Her fair hair was tied back, hardly a trace of make-up, just mascara as far as I could see, and her only jewellery, or adornment was her small, gold stud earrings. I knew I'd seen her somewhere before; I had no doubt about that. It niggled away at my brain for a while, as I was trying to place her in my memory. She looked to be about five foot five inches tall, wearing flat heeled shoes, a long skirt reaching below the knees, and a black jacket. Altogether a dowdy, dull, dress sense, nothing fashionable, no style, but there was no getting away from that beautiful face.
I walked past her, and a bit further up the aisle, then I pretended to look at something so I could have a surreptitious look back at her. Bingo! I immediately knew who she was; Sandra Miller, the Reverend Sandra Miller, the young female minister conducting the service at the church where I met and seduced Emily a few weeks before. The church minister's white collar was more than a clue. It shrieked, '
I am a church minister, a holy person, steeped in religion - you cannot fuck me, my pussy is sacrosanct and out of bounds.'
Well, that may have been the case for most would be seducers, but
'not today sweetheart,'
I thought. I'd have to try and amend that.
Of course, those kind of barriers are a challenge, and all so much sweeter when they crumble helplessly, and I find myself between their open legs and inside that particular pussy to the hilt. I also remembered that I had intended going back to her church to seduce and corrupt her when I saw how quickly she had succumbed to my pheromones as I was leaving her church that Sunday. I realised back then she was ripe for the plucking, and pluck her, and fuck her I fully intended to do. Well, I told myself, there was no time like the present, so why not I asked myself? She had that wholesome, gorgeous, woman next door quality that I found irresistible.
I looked at my watch, it was just after lunchtime. I had done most of my work for the day earlier that morning and had nothing planned. An afternoon of ministerial corruption seemed like a fine idea to me, and a lovely way to pass the afternoon.
'Hello,' I turned and greeted her like a long lost friend, whereupon she looked up at me and smiled. Church ministers are, on the face of it, incredibly nice, friendly folks, always looking for souls to save, and she gave me a wonderful smile.
'Nice teeth,'
I thought, and that's a, 'thing,' with me. Nice teeth and nice hands, if she hasn't got that, she's not going to get my cock either... well maybe that's an exaggeration, I'd forgive the hands, not the teeth. It's a preference rather than a hard and fast rule I have to admit, and sometimes there are extenuating circumstances.
'I was in your church a few weeks ago,' I added and she nodded, still smiling.
'Yes, I remember you,' she replied, 'but you didn't come back. I hoped you would,' she added, her innocence and honesty shining out of every pore of her well-scrubbed, beautiful face. Just about then, her eyes took on that distracted, 'what the fuck is happening between my legs,' look that she had so quickly shown that Sunday a couple of weeks back when I attended her church. She leaned up against the shelves for support, breathing deeply, her English peaches and cream complexion becoming flushed.
'Oh dear,' I said, sounding sympathetic. 'Are you feeling okay? You don't look well.' She nodded, looking up into my eyes.
'I... I don't know,' she mumbled, 'I'm suddenly feeling so very strange, so... so... agitated... hot. Maybe I'm coming down with something,' she said, as she tried to find some explanation for me and herself.
'Fuck, you're just feeling horny and don't even recognise the symptoms,'
I thought. It was all too obvious that she was probably still a holy virgin. Well, not for much longer I determined. I had plans for her immediate education.
'Let's pay for our shopping and I'll see you home to make sure you're okay,' I suggested and in her compliant and susceptible state of mind, she compliantly agreed to my suggestions.
Ten minutes later, we were at her front door and she meekly handed me her door key, which I inserted in the lock, and then ushered her gently inside. She led me to the kitchen, and we put away her shopping in the various cupboards she indicated and her milk in the fridge. Her kitchen was scrupulously clean and well-scrubbed, just like the woman herself.