Your Pastor, My Husband

by B. M. Hardin

  Aw, hell...it's on now!

  That small moan was exactly what Shelton was waiting to hear.

  He forcefully rolled me onto my back and without hesitation; he damn near swallowed my lips whole.

  Shelton kissed me with so much passion; so much force.

  I'm telling you; it was the complete opposite of those little, gentle, church kisses that he laid on me during the day time.

  His kisses behind closed doors were hungry, savage-like; and he just wouldn’t stop until victory was won…well until…you know.

  My participation was at a minimum; knowing that he didn’t need, and probably didn’t even want my help.

  “I love you,” my husband managed to sneak in between his constant pecks of affection.

  I didn’t respond because I knew that all of his display of affection was time sensitive; and that all of his sweetness was about to expire in only a matter of seconds.

  I was right.

  “Who’s is it?” Shelton asked as he entered me.

  Told you...

  Mr. Nice Guy was gone.

  I positioned myself just right, to prepare myself for the ride.

  “I asked you a question, and I’m not going to ask you again bi---, um, who’s it huh…who’s is it!” Shelton demanded an answer as he began to stroke, slowly.

  Lord, I almost laughed.

  It just tickled me that no matter how aggressive and crazy he became during sex; he never cursed...or used the word pussy.

  As you can see, I still did just a little cursing; not around Shelton of course.

  But never, ever, had I heard Shelton use foul language.

  Guess that was expected from a man of his importance or caliber.

  “It’s yours daddy,” I stroked his ego as he continued to stroke my kitty; well...more like my cougar.

  He smiled, yet his hands found their way to my throat and he began to squeeze.

  Shelton choked me as he continued to swim in my pool of ecstasy.

  A time or two I had to tap his hands to let him know that I couldn’t breathe.

  But my taps were ignored.

  Still, it wasn't until on his own time, that Shelton finally released my throat.

  I gasped for air, but Shelton didn’t show a bit of concern for me; or my breathing.

  Mumbling to himself as he placed my legs on his shoulders, slid both of his hands securely under all of my booty, and held onto it firmly. All the while, his manhood remained inside of me.

  I moaned with every move that he made.

  Some by choice; others out of nothing but pure pleasure.

  Although, I couldn’t quite keep up with him, I still very much enjoyed the way that he made me feel.

  “Who’s been touching you?” Shelton asked as my moaning came to a halt.

  He knew that no one had even come close to touching me; yet he always asked this question during sex.

  It was as if it made him sexually angry; if there was such a thing.

  It was as though it was his duty to punish me or teach me some type of lesson.

  “Nobody,” I said in a low, teasingly voice.

  “Um, huh, I don’t believe you. So, I’ll ask you again. Who’s been touching you Maxine? And this time, you'd better not lie to me! You belong to me, and don’t you ever forget that, you hear me?” he asked me, just shy of a yell.

  His pounds of punishment had grown more intense and his grip underneath me had suddenly tightened.

  I closed my eyes as I focused on his thick, dipped in honey, rod of desire, as it rammed in and out of me, torturing my insides and the bottom of my stomach.

  I could no longer be cute about the situation. My mouth opened wide and I began to yell, and call him everything but a child of God---which only turned him on even more.

  As the temperature of my body began to rise, our bodies instinctively began to rock to the same unheard tune, and the room appeared to be closing in on us.

  Shelton continued to torment me with his words and with his copper-colored magic stick, as I turned the corner onto Orgasm Avenue.

  Somehow, abruptly, and with one quick motion our naked bodies went from bouncing up and down on our bed, to rolling around on the cold hardwood floor.

  It wasn’t long after that, that I found myself on my knees, with Shelton pounding away behind me.

  His grunts filled the empty spaces of the room, as his pumps became faster and faster.

  Frantically, I grabbed a hold of the overpriced rug that was placed underneath our bed.

  I was almost at the finish line so I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Shelton's warm wood, as if destroyed everything in its path as it terrorized my insides.

  He tried to hold on, but he couldn't.

  Shelton started to howl and then soon after, he filled my insides with his sweet, soothing cum, and I was right behind him.

  My mouth released a high pitched scream as my body released about a gallon of my juices of satisfaction.

  We both collapsed onto the floor, exhausted and trying to catch our breaths.

  Once we'd cooled down, Shelton pulled me close to him and wrapped me tightly in his arms.

  As we snuggled, and Shelton began to snore, I found myself thinking about him.

  I’d had a lot of sex in my day, but none had ever compared to Shelton’s.

  That was a good thing.

  Whether couples wanted to admit it or not, sex was at least 50%, if not more, of a healthy relationship.

  Well that applied to most people and to most relationships.

  Hell, sex had been a part of every single one of my relationships...and none of them were anywhere near healthy.

  Except with Shelton of course.

  During my college years, it was as though I was passing around my panties, more than I was passing my exams.

  With so many men in one place, I was determined to make someone fall in love with me; even if that meant that I had to give out a few samples.

  Out of many, eventually, there was one who actually fell in love with me.

  The only problem was that I didn’t love him back.

  To be honest, of the few guys that I was dealing with at the time...he was actually the one I liked the least.

  And when the truth came out, I ended up paying a terrible price for it.

  I was a junior in college at the time and everyone wanted a piece of the star basketball, senior player---Trent Hall.

  Just like all of the other girls, I wanted him for his popularity; and I assumed that he wanted me for what was up under my skirt.

  He did...but he also wanted more.

  Trent was different.

  He was what I should have been looking for in a man, but at the time, my priorities were more than messed up.

  After a few weeks of fooling around, he wanted to make things a little more official.

  I agreed but not because I wanted to; but because I wasn’t doing anything else at the time.

  And because he was actually nice to me and I didn't want to hurt his feelings.

  Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t get into him on that level nor could I be faithful to him.

  I tried to keep all my of goodies in my pussy purse, but time after time---I failed.

  One night, Trent caught me entertaining the attention, kisses, and touches of one of his team mates.

  We hadn't actually had sex yet; but we were definitely on our way.

  For a few days, he refused to talk to me, to hear my side of the story or at least allow me to tell him a few lies and apologize.

  Just as I was about to stop trying to be nice, finally, he invited me over to his college apartment to talk.

  Something told me not to go, to just let it be... but I didn’t listen.

  Lord knows I wish I had.

  To make a long story short, Trent and a few of his friends, including the one that I was going to have sex with a few nights before, raped me.

  And I mean they took turns with me
over and over again; until neither one of them could no longer get an erection.

  And that wasn't even the worst part.

  The worst part of it all was...

  No one believed me.

  They all stuck to the same story; the same lie. They'd said that I wanted to do it.

  Everyone that the police spoke to agreed that I was a little on the promiscuous side; and just like that, they had gotten away with a crime.

  The case was closed.

  You'd think that after all of that, I would have slowed down; but actually I got worse.

  I started sleeping with professors, breaking up happy homes and all of that other nonsense.

  I figured what was the point in caring about others...no one cared about me.

  Well, except Mama...but sometimes just her love just wasn't enough.

  Shaking away my thoughts, a sudden chill came over my body.

  I moved Shelton's arms, only for a second to grab pillows and a blanket from the bed.

  After I made myself comfortable on the floor, I turned to face my sleeping husband.

  If only he knew the truth about the woman that he was married to.

  I wondered if things would be the same.

  Even though I wasn't that woman anymore, its always good to know the reviews or the history on something; before you purchased it.

  I’d lied and told Shelton that he was only the second man that I’d ever had sex with.

  I mean, in a way, he was…after you added another hundred to it.

  And I was lucky if that was even accurate.

  There were so many things in my past that I wasn’t proud of; which was why there were just some things about me that Shelton would never know.

  And I could only assume that Shelton felt the same way about his past.

  From the way that he acted when I tried to get to know the old him, I knew that he'd probably done a few things, like me, that he wished that he could take back.

  Though I'd always wondered about who he used to be, at that moment, I decided that wanting to know the old him was useless.

  Who he was now was more than enough for me.

  And who I had become, was obviously enough for him.

  What I didn’t know; wouldn't hurt me…

  At least that was what I'd thought…

  ~***~

  “Shelton, I forgot to ask you, who was that on the phone the other day; that John man?” I asked Shelton the next morning, after we had taken a shower together.

  It had crossed my mind all of a sudden.

  Shelton was hesitant---which was something that he never was.

  “Oh, honey that was nobody that you need to be concerned about. Someone I knew way back in the day, when I was in my early twenties. He'd gotten wind that I was a Pastor now, and reached out to me. That was all,” Shelton answered with his back toward me.

  Liar.

  “Oh, he was from your past? Was he a friend? I would love to meet him. Is he married? Maybe we could do Sunday dinner,” I proclaimed.

  “No,” he responded.

  “No…what?”

  “No he wasn’t…isn’t a friend; he’s just someone I knew back then. Let it go Maxi,” Shelton concluded the conversation with a fake smile, dressed, kissed me and then exited the room.

  See, I was trying to be nice and not be so nosy; but to hell with that!

  Scratch what I said last night…this Pastor had something to hide...and I was going to find out just what it was.

  What could it possibly about his past that he didn’t want me to know about?

  It couldn't be any worse than mine...or could it?

  I mean, of course I really didn’t have any grounds to pry; especially since I had more secrets than a little bit in my back pocket, but at least I wasn’t walking around pretending to be perfect.

  Shelton, on the other hand, acted as though there was nothing about his past that he was ashamed of.

  Let him tell it; he found God, found the church and then found me…the end.

  Just who did he think that he was fooling?

  Don’t get me wrong, Shelton was a good man and I couldn’t ask for a better husband and father for Mackenzie.

  I mean, he loved me unconditionally.

  He made me feel like I was the smartest, prettiest, sexiest woman in the world.

  He complimented me regularly.

  Shelton made sure that I always had everything that I needed; whether it was physically, financially, emotionally...and of course, sexually.

  But Shelton was like; this big puzzle.

  The one that takes you weeks to put together and then right at the end, you find out that you are missing a few of the pieces.

  That's how I felt about Shelton; and I was just dying to find those missing pieces.

  I watched him get into his white Lincoln town car; the one that the church members had just gotten him as a Pastor’s Anniversary gift.

  He drove away in a hurry.

  I could only assume that he was heading to the church; either that or he was meeting someone from the church...or about church.

  Long story short; I didn’t expect to see him again until later on that evening.

  It was only about eight o'clock in the morning but I was more than certain that he wouldn’t be arriving back home until around seven or eight o'clock that night.

  I headed to check on our daughter who was sleeping a little later than usual.

  Quietly, I admired her for a moment.

  She looked so much like Shelton; a girl version of course.

  My darling baby girl didn’t look a thing like me.

  I was dark skinned but she was a cinnamon-honey shade of brown, almost like Shelton. Her hair was soft and curly, just like his, and she even managed to get his bold, condemning brown eyes.

  She looked like him when she smiled and when she cried.

  She even looked like him as she slept.

  And she absolutely loved him too.

  She was the true definition of a daddy’s girl; but I didn’t mind.

  To be honest, I somewhat envied the fact that she actually had a choice in the matter.

  But though I wasn’t exactly her first choice, she still loved me and she knew that her mama loved her.

  There was nothing in the world that I wouldn’t do for her and I made sure that she knew that. I wanted our bond to be just like the one that Mama and I once shared---minus the lies.

  Mama and I were so close that no one and I do mean no one, believed that we were mother and daughter.

  We acted not only like sisters, but also like best friends.

  We could talk about anything, everything and whenever I needed her she was always right there.

  I guess in a sense she had to be.

  We were all that each other had.

  Her mother, my grandmother, whom I’d also never met, had disowned her for running off and getting married to my Daddy at such a young age.

  Mama never saw or heard from her parents or any of her siblings again...though I think that it had been strictly Mama's choice.

  I wasn’t sure, but I thought I remembered Mama saying that they were somewhere in Mississippi, but she would never say much else about them.

  She never even called them by name.

  Mama married my Daddy and ran off to Korea, then to Germany, and from there they ended up in Texas, at least that was the story that Mama had always told me.

  When Daddy was called to be stationed overseas, again, Mama found out that she was pregnant with me and they both decided that it was best if she stayed behind.

  Unfortunately, Daddy never returned to us, and as I learned, it wasn’t by death; maybe it was by choice.

  Whether the choice was his or hers, either way, from then on it was just Mama and I; living and battling life one day at a time.

  Just the two of us.

  Truth be told, I admired Mama’s strength.

  Never had I seen her begging for handouts. She did what she had to
do to make sure that I…we were okay.

  Even when times got hard, she never gave up. Tucking in her tail and running back home to Mississippi just wasn’t an option for her, and she made sure that she would never have to.

  I watched Mama work her tail off and she became one hell of a lawyer when I was about ten, and from there, there was no turning back.

  We lived a good life, and everything turned out to be just fine.

  It was just us.

  No family, a few friends, but mostly, we only had each other; until God took Mama away from me.

  I had always heard that when people died too young or before their time that it wasn’t because you had done something wrong.

  It wasn’t because you were being punished or because God wanted to hurt you.

  God only took them to Heaven…because he needed them more.

  And that just had to be true about Mama.

  I could only imagine Mama in Heaven, singing, and probably even directing the choir of angels. She had the most beautiful, heaven sent voice I’d ever heard.

  I couldn’t blame God for wanting to hear her sing every single day.

  That was truly something I missed the most about her.

  Coming back to reality, I glanced down at my sleeping little angel again.

  It saddened me that she would never get to meet any of her grandparents.

  My parents were both dead; well, maybe one was still alive, but hell if he was, I didn’t know where he was or enough information about him to find him.

  Shelton didn’t know who his parents were at all.

  From what he’d told me, his mother had given him up at birth; he had never even seen a picture of her, nor did he know her name.

  He was adopted by a couple as a baby and a few years later, when the couple divorced, he ended up right back in the system.

  He had thought for years that they were his real parents and that they just hadn’t wanted him anymore, only to find out in his teens that they hadn’t been his parents at all.

  He was told that a young woman came into a hospital, used a fake name, gave birth to a baby boy and as soon as the doctors were out of sight, she left him there, never to return for him.

  I actually felt sorry for Shelton.

  I couldn’t imagine how he must have felt as a child.

  Not having a father is one thing---but not having a mother was another.

  There was nothing; no one like your Mama.