Page 26 of Sin With Me

“Thank you so much, Preacher Isaac,” she sobs. I nod, gripping her shoulder. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” I say softly, meaning it. “Divinity Falls Baptist sticks together. We’re a family. Your children are God’s children and they deserve the very best.”

She smiles, blotting the tears coursing down her cheeks. “Things just haven't been the same since my Earl died. Divinity Falls was truly blessed the day you came to us. You’re a wonderful man.”

Pride fills me so quickly, my chest flutters and I’m reminded of why I do this.

“Thank you for your kind words,” I say as I open the door to turn her toward her family. “I’ll get back to you once I’ve gotten more information on the bake sale.”

She shakes my hand, thanking me once again, and turns away. The sound of Eve’s sweet, tinkling laughter fills the church, echoing off the walls, and it goes straight to my dick. Anger and frustration fill me, mingling with the desire I can’t seem to shake.

“Mrs. Johnson,” I choke out. Covering my mouth, I cough into my fist to clear my throat. I smile. “Please tell Eve to come see me.” My cock twitches against my thigh painfully. “In ten minutes,” I rush to add.

She bobs her head and disappears down the hall, toward the nave where I assume Eve is entertaining the children.

My office door closes with a soft click. I stare at the handle, my heart racing against my ribcage. My mouth turns dry as my fingers trace the lock. The sound of it clicking into place is like a bullet penetrating the air.

My forehead drops to the heavy wooden door and my clammy palms press into it as I war with myself internally. I keep my back to my office, unable to take in the crosses that I know will taunt me, judge me.

My eyes flutter closed. I try—I try so fucking hard to breathe through it.

The anxiety clawing at my insides.

The guilt churning in my gut.

The visions dancing through my brain.

The incessant throbbing of my heavy cock between my thighs that's digging into my zipper painfully, the same way it did this morning in the kitchen as I watched my stepdaughter bend over the kitchen sink in those motherfucking pants like the beautiful temptress she is.

Before I know what I’m doing, my pants are open and around my thighs, my boxer briefs yanked down below my ass cheeks, and my cock is in the unyielding grip of my fist.

I hiss out a sharp breath and tug harshly, relishing the bite of pain at my rough treatment. A bead of precum dribbles from the reddened tip and leaks to the floor in slow motion. My eyes lock on the movement. My breathing picks up and I know—I just know that the second it hits the carpet, all bets are off.

It feels monumental. It feels like crossing an invisible line. One that I won’t be able to take back and fuck—it feels good.

It hits the floor and my cock jerks. My free palm flattens against the door and I push away so I can watch my hand fuck myself, imprinting the vision in my mind so I can replay it again and again as I look at her. As I watch her. As I imagine my fist is her dripping cunt wrapped around me while I ruthlessly fuck her against this goddamned door.

My hand works my cock like I’m trying to prove a point. To who? I don’t fucking know, and right now, I don’t care.

My balls pulse with my heartbeat as I picture Eve in those pants this morning. The way the black material pulled tight, exposing her creamy skin beneath them.

My fist tightens.

The heavy creases of her thick ass cheeks against her long thighs. The perfect line separating her down the middle.

My hips thrust in time with my hand.

The way the material gathered against her pussy lips, barely containing her sweet Heaven from my sight.

My spine tingles.

I picture those perfect, pink lips wrapped around her straw, imagining it was my leaking cock instead.

I bite my lip to stifle a moan.

Instead of the juice trickling down her chin, I picture it’s my cum after I’ve shot my load down her throat as she choked on my fat fucking cock.

My body trembles and a bead of sweat drips from my temple.

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