The Sexcapade Of Natasha - 16
- Post By Emdee David 4:29am on Sunday 19th August 2018
“I will marry you, Pastor, if only that would make God forgive me for all my sex sins.” The pastor smiles and says to her, “He will.” He moves closer to her.
THE SEXCAPADE OF NATASHA (16)
By Emdee David
“I need help,” Natasha says to a very patient and listening Clergyman before her. She is sitting at the edge of the bed while the man of God sits on a stool.
“Yes, I know,” he says, nodding. “You really do need help. I’m listening.”
She stares at the angel before her with a smile that meant gracefulness. She is very impressed with his tie, corporate suit. His blue inner shirt embellishes the tall, dark and handsome preacher that should rather be in Nollywood. But, the gifts of God, they say, are without repentance. Whatever that means, this man is wonderfully made. She just wonders if he is safe in the hands of those pretty, flirtatious choir members. Would he pray with her or play with hers?
Her eyes trail his tie from neck to the tummy, and then to the dangling tip of the silky material. The tip is pointed directly to the very middle of his trousers. Natasha smiles again, and then giggles.
“Continue, I am listening,” the pastor says again, feeling uncomfortable with her stare and gesticulation.
“Bishop, there is really nothing much to say,” she takes her eyes back to his face. His lips are lighter, compared to the other parts of his skin. That looks too sexy for her. She looks directly into his face and speaks softly. “Nothing to say. You are already having an erection.”
He quickly looks down between his laps, she is holding the tip of his tie.
“I’ll help you if you want me to,” says the pastor.
“Really? Please, how?” her mouth agape, she lets go of his tie.
“Thanks so much, I will really appreciate your gesture, ‘cos, I’m really tired of this life.” Tears begin to run down her cheeks. “I need deliverance, right?”
“You need a husband.”
Shocked, she raises her head and looks at him again. “Huh!?”
“I want to marry you,” he says matter-of-factly.
She bursts into a barrel of laughter, looking back to see who he might be referring to.
“Me?” Natasha says. “Marry me?”
He nods, with a little smile more salacious than ecclesiastical.
“Can you satisfy me?”
“Will you?” she shifts closer to him, her forehead almost touching his, talking in whispers. “Because this is the main reason why I don’t want to get married. I won’t like to cheat on my husband, and this would be difficult for me to do if my husband is not able to satisfy me. I will burn and implored. That would be….”
“You won’t…” he says, pulling away from her. Oh, God, deliver me.
She stands up while he is seated, her waist aligned with his face.
“Sit down” he shouts and stands up. She smiles, noting the two words, sit, suck, what a contrast.
“Sit down and suck me,” she shouts back. He leaves towards the door. She follows him, releasing her skirt and it falls down to the floor.
“Don’t you wanna marry me again? If you can satisfy me, then let’s test it. Do me well well and then we are off to the altar.”
She tries to hold him, while he holds the knob of the door.
“Adesuwa, stop,” he screams at her. She stops, shocked, and then begins to pull back.
“Jesus, you know me?” she is shivering, walking back to the bed. “How?”
The pastor opens the door and goes out. Natasha collapses on the bed, crying. “Oh. God help me, oh Jesus, save me…” The door later bursts open, and she jumps up, in fear. The pastor comes in, holding a long, armless wedding gown. He walks to her and drops it on her naked laps.
“Try it, it should size you,” the pastor says.
Natasha picks the gown and sizes it up by placing it from her neck downward. The gown is lovely. She is so happy, embracing the entire gown.
“I will marry you, Pastor, if only that would make God forgive me for all my sex sins.” The pastor smiles and says to her, “He will.” He moves closer to her. “Especially if you love me back and stay with me.” She exhales, sighs and collapses on the bed again.
The pastor follows her, bends towards her face. Her eyes are closed but she feels the closeness in form of heat, a hot brief from a fresh breath. Her experience and intuition tell her a French kiss is about to occur. By reflex, her lips open, ready to absolve a “holy” kiss from an angel who could not be tempted by the most amorous of Eve’s daughters. There seems to be a suspense, a withdrawal, sort of, but as she is about to close back her lips, assuming the bishop is again not accepting to be lured, the kiss comes, hot, hard and very familiar. Has she dated this pastor before? How did he know her native name that she was called in the village? Whatever let me enjoy this moment.
Then, she tries to grab him firmly, there is no resistance. The kiss, oh, the French kiss, too familiar. Then the scent that comes with it, Garlic mixed with Alomo Bitters. Then comes the very familiar moaning sound, she couldn’t have forgotten so soon. Razah?
She opens her eyes, waking up fully. Razah, lying on her naked body is struggling with her sealed lips to plant a kiss.
“I am strong again,” he says in a Lebanese voice and points to his bent but erect manhood. She hisses, and pushes him away!
-----------------TO BE CONT'D------------
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Emdee David – is the President of Africa Entertainment Network, a Writer, Producer and Director of Radio, TV and Digital media contents. He is the renowned author of SHADOWS OF THE SUN (Heinemann Publishers Plc). His other works include GUYS ARE US, BAD TRIP, The PACKAGE, and over sixty poems.
Written by Emdee David
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