0 comments/ 11998 views/ 3 favorites Preacher Man By: Heathen Hemmingway The man in black was standing alone on a dark street corner. In front of him was an old church. He stood there looking up at the church in awe. It was an enormous and impressive thing, looming overhead in the semi-darkness. It was misting rain that night. The streetlights tried feebly to penetrate the gloom. Standing in front of the church wearing a leather jacket and black denim jeans, the man in black was a shadow among shadows. Cold drops of rain beaded up in his hair, but he didn't seem to notice. He wasn't a person of faith but he certainly appreciated beauty in its many forms. He had never seen such a grand church in person. The detail was almost enough to take his breath away. The structure stood tall and solid like a fortress, disappearing into the clouds overhead. While he stood there looking at the towering church he experienced a brief memory from his childhood. The man was brought up dirt poor. What the old folks back home would have called 'hard poor'. His mother was a remarkable woman, one of those infinitely resilient patient souls of the old South. She always encouraged him to read, bringing home nickel and dime books from thrift stores and yard sales every chance she got. Times were hard and money was scarce, but that never stopped his mother from bringing him books to read. She knew he was a brilliant child, and his intelligence was an avenue out of poverty. Thanks to her he cultivated a love to learn and a desire for information. He remembered how she would go to the library in Tallassee once a month and buy stacks of the outdated periodicals for him to read. One day she came home with a huge box of old National Geographic books. He had taken the stack of books and nestled away in a corner and read them all day long. There was more than one night that his mother had found him asleep with one of those old books in his lap. That always filled his mother with a secret pride. He remembered seeing a picture of an old church that reminded him of the one he was standing in front of, hidden within the pages of one of those old National Geographics. As the man stood there he realized that it had been over twenty years once he had set foot inside of a church for any reason other than a wedding or a funeral. He glanced around him quickly and then looked back up at the church. "Well, I suppose it's time." He whispered. "Yeah, sure is." He replied to himself quietly. "Let's put this one behind us." The man looked around him again then walked up the marble steps to the huge front door of the church, then stepped inside. The church was immense and dimly lit. As he closed the door behind him, he was met with a host of smells. Oddly enough, he immediately felt himself comforted by the smells that greeted him. A strong presence of old stained wood and a hint of candle smoke, with a thin scent of heavy felt. There were two long rows of pews lined up to the right and left of him, both stretching forward for many yards. The church seemed to be as wide as it was tall. The man in black had a sudden thought, a memory. At his sister's wedding, watching his nieces run up and down between the rows of pews in their white Sunday dresses. They were carrying bouquets of magnolias, tied with silver ribbon. A sash of the same color was tied neatly around their waists, with a big silver bow at the hip. Their hair was curly and blonde, almost the same color at the ribbons. Their curls bounced as they ran down the aisles with big grins on their faces. He stood there staring blankly, not realizing he had lost himself in a memory. That happened to the man in black quite often, you might say. His memories tortured him, drove him. Yet there were times when a sweet memory stopped him in his tracks. And maybe it was memories like that, that kept him going. That memory was from a long time ago in a small nameless church back in the old South, and here he was a thousand miles away in the heart of the big bustling city. He looked up, and instantly found himself awestruck at the myriad of beautiful stained glass windows staring down at him. "So much art in one place. So much beauty." He said, almost breathless. "You're a long way from home, kid." The man in black felt a deep sadness in his heart, and it probably showed on his face. He wasn't in anguish because he was there to kill the preacher man. He was sad because he was so far from home. Inside The pain was sharp and sudden. The man clutched his chest and winced. He inhaled, held the breath for a moment and then exhaled slowly. He was deathly pale and his skin was damp with sweat. Each time his heart would beat a bolt of pain ran through him. It felt like being stabbed with a hot ice pick, he thought to himself. His right hand instinctively fumbled for the safety of his right pocket. His hand found its target and he sighed aloud. For years he carried rosary beads in the right pocket of his frock. He was often seen with his hand in that pocket, clutching hard on the rosary beads. Many in his flock thought it to be one of his most endearing attributes. What his followers did not know was that a year ago he replaced the beads with something, something that his hand clutched tightly as he sat motionless waiting for the pain to pass. "Just one more time, and we'll go to the doctor." He whispered to himself. "It's from the stress, that's all. It will get better when things calm down." He said breathlessly. "If it doesn't get better I will go. I promise." He sat there for several minutes as the pain slowly ebbed away. The stinging pain gradually subsided until it was only a dull throbbing deep in his chest. He looked around him carefully; a habit he had developed without thought in the past year, and pulled his clenched fist from the pocket. He opened his hand and stared at the outstretched palm solemnly. A pair of faded pink panties were wadded in his hand, stained with sweat. He held them to his nose and inhaled deeply. He tilted his head back with the panties still pressed to his face. His eyes were tightly closed. He took them away and shook his head, as the pain had muffled his senses. He heard a familiar noise from somewhere behind him. A long, low creaking followed by a soft thud. He did not start at the sound. He gingerly stood upright and put the panties back into his right pocket. He gave them a brief squeeze, as if to comfort himself. He knew the sound. It was very familiar to him. He walked through a narrow door and looked out into the dim atrium. At the end of the long rows of pews stood a dark figure. A man dressed in black was standing there, looking in his direction. The man looked toward the confessional booth then back at him. Another bolt of pain ran through him almost as if a reminder. He nodded and then gestured with his hand toward the booth. "If you will give me a moment, Son." He gasped. "I will be right with you." The man in black nodded. "Of course Sir." The stranger said in a gravely voice. "No rush." Confessional The man in black settled into the narrow wooden seat inside the confessional. It smelled strongly of oil soap and fabric. There was a thin wood panel between where he sat and the partition next to him, with another wooden panel behind the first. The panels were carved with small holes in the wood, but they were lined up opposite one another so he couldn't see straight into the partition next to him. Anonymity, he supposed, was important if you're going to pour your heart out and confess your sins. The panels separated the two sections of the confessional. One for the preacher man and one for the tormented creature who was confessing. There was a small rectangular hole in the center of the two panels at about knee height. The man in black could only imagine what the hole was for. Maybe holding hands while one prayed, he wondered? He reached into a jacket pocket and pulled out a pair of latex gloves then quickly slid his hands into them, drawing them snug with a snap. He patted the breast pocket of his jacket then took a deep breath, held it for several seconds then exhaled slowly. He was tired. Not just fatigue, but what his mama would have called bone tired. For several weeks he had been wrestling with the realization that the job was taking a hell of a lot more out of him than it used to, when the door of the other partition opened and a shadow stepped inside. There was a brief moment of soft light in the confessional, and then it grew dim again as the door closed. "Miserable night outside." The preacher man said with a heavy sigh. After several moments the man in black replied. "Undoubtedly." There was a tense pause, and then the preacher man spoke up, a little louder. "I was nervous, the first time I set foot inside of a confessional. It's perfectly natural." He quipped in a friendly voice. "I'm not certain if it's being nervous." The man in black answered solemnly. He was listening, carefully. He saw no one else when he entered the church, and while in the confessional he had been listening intently for any sign of other people. The absolute lack of sound comforted him, assuring he was alone with the preacher man. "I guess…" The man in black said. "I'm like most folks in that I don't know where to start." "Then tell me what you can. And we'll go from there. If you were determined enough to come here in the rain, I have no doubt you have the strength to say what you came here to say. I know things are weighing down on you, otherwise you wouldn't be here." The preacher replied softly. His tone was reassuring. "Please trust me when I tell you that you will feel much better after talking about the things that burden you." There was another pause, this one longer. Then the man in black spoke. "I've killed people." He said. "Quite a few." The silence lingered on for long moments, and then the man in black continued. "I've come to realize that I'm driven by something that I don't quite understand. Part of me wants to believe that I'm setting something right in the world that is terribly wrong. And part of me feels like I'm doing it for selfish reasons. Maybe killing my father over and over again for dying like a coward and leaving me as a kid." More silence followed, and after a few seconds the man in black spoke on. "I'm not certain if it's because I'm a mean a bastard at heart and I just enjoy hurting people, or maybe because I enjoy hurting certain people because I can easily justify it. Either way it's the same." "Well." The preacher man interjected softly. "It is very brave of you to admit all of this, and I see by the fact that you have given such thoughts to your actions that you are still human, despite your actions. I would suggest that you remember that when you decide the next step to take in your recovery." "Am I really looking for a recovery?" The man in black asked. "In one form or another, I believe so, yes." Replied the preacher man. "You seem nervous, and I can't help but believe that it's not just because you are talking to me. You didn't look too comfortable when I saw you earlier. Does this church make you nervous? I ask that because it happens quite often. When one is feeling doubtful, this old church can be fairly intimidating in its own right." "I was hurt by the church when I was young. Badly. And I can't seem to forget how much I hate my father. He did some of the most unspeakable things. To my mama and my sisters." Answered the man in black. "He was a preacher man. He was supposed to hold us together. Instead he tore us apart. The church stood behind him, like scared sheep." The man in black didn't realize it, but his accent had taken on an exaggerated drawl, much as it did when he was angry. 'I cah'nt seem to f'get hah much I hate m'ah father.' The preacher man sat silently, listening. The man in black expected this to happen. In fact, he had planned on it. Several more moments of dead silence passed, and all the while the man in black was listening for any tell tale signs of another person in the church with them. There were none. He pulled an envelope from his breast pocket and put it in the rectangular hole in the wooden panel. "I'd like to think that I can set things right. At least in some small way. Maybe restore a little balance to the world. And my life." The preacher man picked up the envelope and opened it carefully. There was a piece of yellowish paper folded three times like a business letter. The paper was thick and glossy, and slightly tacky. He paid it no mind, assuming the man had been sweating, or maybe the rain had gotten to it. "Odd way to make a donation, although the gesture is appreciated. However, if this is your way of making amends I should tell you to ask yourself whether or not this will truly make you feel any better. Money is a weak form of atonement." He commented. "Donation?" The man in black asked. "Not quite. But, I suppose in a way it could be seen that way." The preacher man unfolded the paper and saw a young girl's face staring back at him from a photograph. Almost instantly, he inhaled sharply and turned toward the man in black. "You don't scare me!" He hissed, his consoling nature gone in an instant. Suddenly his words were sharp and full of venom. "If you think you can blackmail me…" The man in black cut his words short. "I wouldn't talk right now if I were you. I'm going to talk and you're going to listen. That's how it's going to work. We both know what you did to that girl, and we both know why I'm here. You've hidden behind the church for too long, and I've fought to step out of my father's shadow for too long. Tonight I'm going to kill two proverbial birds with the same stone." "You can't prove a thing." Barked the preacher man under his breath. "How dare you come in here under my roof and try to threaten me!" A sudden pain ran through his chest, a hard chilling jolt of agony. He gasped for breath, and found that he had an odd taste in his mouth. Coppery and acidic. His vision doubled and he sat bolt upright, trying to catch his breath. A thin, acrid odor filled his nostrils and his skin was covered in a solid sheet of goose bumps. He looked down and saw he was gripping the paper tightly, his hands and fingers tacky. "Wha?" He squeaked, and then fell to the floor in a heap. The man in black stood up and opened the confessional door, peering around the church cautiously. He opened the other door and knelt in front of the preacher man, picking up the paper and envelope, tucking the paper back inside and depositing the envelope back into his breast pocket. He placed two fingers against the preacher man's neck just under the crook of his jaw. After several seconds he stood up then removed the gloves, putting them in his pocket without thought. He walked to the entrance and pushed the door open a bit and stared outside. It was still storming out, raining angrily. He stepped out into the chilly rain, and as the door slowly closed behind him he looked back up at the church and spoke quietly into the gloom. "There is no freedom of religion without freedom from religion." Preacher-man (I hope you enjoy this, and for those interested, its a true story! XOX..Babygirl! ) Cindy was shifting uncomfortable in the pew, trying to keep her mind on where she and not how sexy and handsome the new preacher was. She muttered to herself, “Oh god, I can not believe he was still single!” She first met Reverend Caldwell when she visited her mother last Tuesday. When she walked into the house, there he sat at the table, drinking coffee with her mom. Her mother introduced him, and she felt his deep blue eyes piercing go right through her. Cindy felt a quiver go through her and hoped he did not notice. She held out her hand and uttered the usual hello and when they touched felt a tingle go directly to her clit. Now how could that happen, he was just a preacher. He mother asked if she would like a cup, and she nodded yes, as she sat down. She wondered if he was the kind of preacher who could dated, or one who was married to the church. She felt like asking him, but knew her mom would chastise her. She tries to avoid his gaze but every time she looked up, he was watching her. She almost fainted when he spoke up and asked, “I wish you would join your mother Sunday, and come to church.” She smiled and said, “Sorry reverend, but I have plans.” In the back of her mind was laughing her head off saying, “What a joke! Oh yeah, the mini skirted bar hoping sexpot, will be found sitting in your dam church! Listening to how much of a sinner I am, do not think so, preacherman." The preacher got up and told them good-bye, then turned to Cindy and said, “I hope you change your mind about Sunday.” After he was gone, her mother reached across the table, grabbed her hand, and said, “You know Cindy, I would not hurt you to go to church, just once. Please, do it for me.” She could feel a non-stop lecture coming on; her mother would rant and rave about how much of a sinner she was. Therefore, to shut her mother up, she said, “Sure, see you Sunday momma.” Since Cindy’s dad had died a year ago, she tried to visit at lease 4 times a week. As usual, she would join her mother for supper and they would play something like scrabble afterwards. While she ate, Cindy hoped her mother would not say anything more, but knew that was impossibility. Her mother considered herself a verified matchmaker, and if she had her way, Cindy would be married by now. Her mother took a drink then said, “Honey, did you see how handsome he is. He is only a year older then you. It would be so nice if you liked him, and honey, he is available!” Oh, god, that did it, everyone knows, preachers think sex is sinful, and she just knew this one would be no different. She replied, “Mother, please, I think I can find a man to date on my own. And if you do not mind, I will get married only if I want too!” She helped mom with the dishes, then patted her hand, kissed her cheek and said, “Gotta go momma, 6 am rolls around early, and do not be too angry with me.” All the way home she cursed herself, then yelled, “Oh shit, Cindy, what in the hell did you get yourself into now?” She already made plans with her roommate Renee to go to the new movie theater and the out to dinner Sunday, how was she going to tell her. Cindy could see things now, Renee rolling of the floor with laugher, saying, “Cindy, you went where? Oh I get it, you went to church, oh good joke, what’s the punch line!” The teasing would escalate until all her friends would join in the fun. Cindy decided she would tell her that her mother called and needed her to drive her somewhere Sunday. That very no-one would notice where she went. The next thing she did was focus on what too wear, if she wore the usual mini skirt, and short tops, they would not even let her through the front door of the church. So she decided to wear this long denim skirt checkered country style blouse and boots. Sunday came around, and she left for church early, wanting to arrive at church before her mother, that way she would not have to endure any more embarrassment. When she got there, she uttered, “Dam,” under her breathe, there was her mom on the steps waiting for her. He mother hurried over too her and said, “Hello Cindy, you look so nice dear.” She then walked arm in arm with her into the church purposely going past the preacher and saying, “Good morning, Reverend.” Reverend Caldwell, took Cindy’s hand, and said, “Welcome Cindy, glad you could join us. Hey, did you mother tell you about the pot-luck after the morning services, I do hope you’ll join us.” She just nodded no, and kept on moving, pushing her mother toward the seats. She was not about to stay here any longer then she needed too. She was relieved when she mother did not sit in the front row. Cindy, looked around, and almost fainted, half the men, were ones who hit on her at the local bar. Now here they sat all prim and proper next to their wife or girlfriend. She snickered and whispered, “Oh goody, a room full of hypocrite’s,” then shook, the place gave her the creeps. She was determined to tune out and not hear the, you are a sinner sermon, and was doing well until she looked up and saw the minister watching her. Cindy smiled at him, god-dam, how can be a man of god be so fucking handsome! She then wondered what was on his mind. She started to think and then blushed, “Maybe he is one of those dirty minded ministers who did more then consol his flock.” When they stood to sing the last hymn, she leaned over and said, “Mother, I think I will stay for dinner, beats cooking any day.” She tried to not let on she had an alternative motive. Cindy found herself enjoying the dinner and saw that her mom was quiet happy. She figured the day was not a total loss, and it did not bruise her dignity too badly. When she went to get some pie for desert, her mother joined her. Her mother leaned over and said, Cindy, I hope you do not mind me going over to Martha’s after dinner? She wants me to help her work on the quilt she is making for her daughter. Don’t worry about how to get home dear, I have already asked the preacher if he would take you.” Cindy, almost dropped her plate, and was about to yell, Mother, how could you, but stopped, she knew that was one argument she would never win. She smiled to herself it might not be such a bad idea, for him to take her home. Now she could really see what he was like. Now was a perfect chance to see what was, on his mind. She sat back down and started eating her pie; she looked over at the minister. When he was not looking, Cindy sized him up and down. At that moment, she wished he were not a preacher; he was a man she could really fall for. His deep blue eyes were hidden by heavy black lashes and his oval face surrounded by long curly hair, and when he smiled he had the cutest dimples. She jumped when his eyes met hers, and then quickly looked away, but inside, she wished they were sitting somewhere, private. She told herself, “That will never happen, I do not date preachers! “ She finished her pie then sipped on a cup of coffee, as the churchwoman cleaned things up. Reverend Caldwell knew Cindy was watching him, and wondered if she liked what she saw. He looked at her and their eyes met for one brief moment; he felt his heart skip a beat. Wow,she she was beautiful! He looked down, and then went to get another cup of coffee. When he sat down, he noticed she was helping the woman clear the tables. She was a tall full figured woman, with a firm full breast, and a waist just perfect for his arms, and full hips. He continued watching her, hoping no one would notice he was ogling her. She had a cute round face and an upturned nose, green seductive eyes hidden by the locks of long curly blonde hair. Cindy was his idea of a perfect woman, and wondered if she would ever like him. Reverend Caldwell readjusted his tie, and then remembered her mother telling him, that she thought Cindy was too promiscuous. In the back of his mind he said, “Oh man, I wonder how loose she really is? After all, he I am not just a minister, but also a man, with needs. A man who wished was kissing her right now. He was brought back to reality when Gladys tapped his should and said they were leaving. He walked over to where Cindy and said, “Sorry for the delay, Miss Walter’s, are you ready to go home?” She took his hand and said, “Oh, please, Reverend Caldwell, call me Cindy. Let me visit the lady’s room, and then I will be ready.” The preacher checked the back door and front door and made sure they were locked, then laid his suit jacket in the office. That way, maybe she would come with it to retrieve it and they could talk, he winked. When he returned to where Cindy was she was just coming out of the bathroom. He walked over to her and said, “Cindy, do you mind if we go up to my office for a moment, I left my suit jacket their, okay?” She told him yes and soon she was standing by him in the office. He grabbed his jacket then sat down acting as if he was looking for something. When he glanced up she was running her fingers through her hair, he swallowed hard. “Oh, how did I get so lucky to have this goddess standing before me now,” he thought The preacher cleared his throat and said, “Cindy, you can call me Herb; after all, we are not in church right now! Excuse me, I trust this is not too personal, but you are very beautiful.” He shifted his pants, making his swelling member more comfortable, praying she would not see it. Cindy, looked at him with amazement, she could not believer her ears, the preacher was coming onto her. She thought about telling him he was out of line, but thought she would go along with his game and see what he was up too. She moved around to the side on the desk and stood speechless, her eyes glued on his lap. Oh my god, he must have been a good 9 inches and very thick. She did not know what to say next, but felt her panties getting wet and her nipples harden. In the back of her mind she was yelling, “Oh preacherman, lets fuck!” In her next thought she screamed, “Hell No, what would momma say!” She was about to say, I have to go, when the preacher stood up and pulled her close. He kissed her hard as his hands fondled her in places a preacher should not go. He kissed her ear and whispered, “Oh God, forgive me, I want you Cindy! I have fantasized about you since the first day we met. If I am out of line, tell me!” In the back of his mine he screamed, “Oh please do not say no!” She looked at him, dam it, how can she say yes, he is the preacher for Christ sake; you do not fuck the preacher! She felt his hand squeeze her nipple, she wanted to yell, “STOP,” but could not bring herself to utter the words. Her body was ablaze with lust, screaming, "Yes," it had been too long since a man touched her. This time Cindy returned the kiss, letting her tongue dance with his. The preacher, stood up for a moment, and kissed her lightly saying, “Oh honey, hold that thought,” then walked over to the door and locked it. He licked his lips, turned around to walk back to Cindy, and pulled her close. She hesitated as if she was going to say no, but instead, instructed him to sit down. Cindy uttered, “Not so fast, sit down, I want your to watch for now!” She stood back and started slowly removing her clothing. When she took off her blouse and bra, she heard him gasp for breath. She bent forward and took off her thong, then turned around to show him her wanting body. She took one nipple into her mouth and sucked it hard while rolling the other one, saying, “MMM, it taste so good!” When Cindy looked over at him, the preacher was sitting with his hand around his rock hard cock. She squealed, “Ooh baby you’re so big! “ She walked over to him until she was standing naked in front of him. He looked up, her hard nipples inches from his mouth and said, “Come here my pretties, give daddy a taste baby!” He then sucked her right nipple into his mouth and teased it with his tongue, then took it in his teeth and bit it. He did one then the other, as his hand slide the whole length of her wet pussy. In her mind she screamed, “Oh fuck, if I knew a preacher-man could do this I would have went to church years ago!” She then said, “Oh god, suck them hard, ooooooooh I love a titty man!” His fingers parted her labia and when he slid them across her clit, Cindy thought she was going to pass out from excitement! She took his head in her hands and pulled him closer into her tits, kissed the top of his head and said, “Oooooooh Preacherman! Eat me, oh god, do me, I can not wait to feel that tongue deep inside me!” The preacher, cleaned off his desk in one scoop and laid her on her back facing him, them moved until her pussy was just inches away from his lips. He ran his tongue the full length of her slit and then drew her clit into his mouth. She arched her back and moaned rolling her head back and forth, and then he slid a finger inside her pussy, sucking her clit and finger-fucking her at the same time. Cindy, quivered and yelled, “Oh my god, Preacherman, yes, just like that, do not stop! Oh keep going I am going to cum!” He could not hold back any longer, he stopped eating her long enough to rub his cock back and forth across her clit. He exclaimed, “Oooooooh Cindy, I prayed you would come to church today! I prayed that you would let me comfort you this way. Oh god baby, let me drive my cock deep into you, let me fuck you!” Cindy help her legs wide and shouted, “Oooooooh please Preacherman I need your help now and your support! Ram your cock deep into me, oooooh, aaaaaaaaaaaah, sweet-Jesus I am cumming! FUCK ME!” Just as Cindy started cumming, he drove his cock all the way into her with one hard thrust. He leaned forward and kissed her nipple then moved up to her lips as he drove his cock hard into her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled his cock deep stretching her pussy to the limits. He balls were so full of cum; they felt like they would explode any minute. She pulled away from his lips, then leaned forward and took his nipple in her mouth, and bit it. The preacher, shouted, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah, yes that’s it, bite both nipples Cindy! Oh, please let me cum inside you! She continued biting his nipple, pausing only to shake her head yes, he went rigged and yelled, “Yesssssss, oh I am cumming! Pumping her full of so much cum it dribbled on the desk. Cindy did not move for a moment, holding his cock deep insidel milking him until his balls were drained. He sat back down in his chair to catch his breathe and almost swallowed his tongue; she was lying there, eating his sweet nectar from her pussy. When she was done, he helped her up then kissed her passionately. When she looked at him, he had a tear in his eyes; he pulled her close and said, “Oh Cindy, I hope you do not have a bad impression of your preacher now!” Cindy kissed the tear off his check and uttered, “Oh I don’t Preacherman; after all, you are a man too. I do think I will need to pray right now, for your support and guidance.” She then lowered herself to her knees as if to pray, but instead took his cock into her mouth, licking him clean! The preacher then said, “Oh my child, I want you to come by here every night this week. We can pray together.” Cindy looked at him and gasp, “Oh no, Herb what am I going to tell my mother? You know, she will ask me about today! She knows that I am not that easily persuaded into coming to church.”