Deacon John Adkins liked lists. The Ten Commandments were a list. The books of the Bible were a list. The signs of the apocalypse were a list. The sins that tempt the good people of Summer Hill with impure urges were an ever expanding list that Deacon Adkins kept a close eye on. He made adjustments to his list every day. It was his greatest duty as a Christian and a constant source of comfort to him.
Salma Hayek. Vibrators. Mrs. Gilson’s perfume. Wet hair.
He sat inside the church as he added to his list. He was supposed to meet with Ms. Moon this morning. They were going to discuss strategies for getting rid of the adult bookstore that was trying to move to town. They could have met at the diner or maybe the Deacon’s home but he preferred the church. During the week, the church was always empty. That let him work on his list in private.
Public swimming pools. Women joggers. Cinderella. High heels.
The list was the secret to his success as a Deacon. Every Sunday, after the preacher was done making everyone feel good about Jesus, it was up to Deacon Adkins to bring the fear of Hell into people’s lives. He would preach and let each and every one of the flock know that he was onto them. He would tell them how they lusted after movie stars, dirty things on the Internet and the beautiful women of their community. He would work his list into his sermon, striking at the very libido of the community. Deacon Adkins kept his nose buried in dirty things so that he could best speak against them.
Blond highlights in red hair. That hussy on the local morning news. Pink panties. British accents.
“I agree. She does look like a hussy.”
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Deacon Adkins jumped out of the pew. Diana Moon was standing right behind him. Somehow, she had managed to walk in and read over his shoulder without him noticing. Nobody sneaked up on Deacon Adkins when he made his list. If one of the flock saw his list, they might misinterpret it.
“Ms. Moon, do you always sneak up on people?” He let a touch of righteousness into his voice. It was the same tone he used right before he started to talk about the evils of hip-hop music.
“I do apologize, Deacon,” Ms. Moon said. She came closer to him, and she smiled in a very sinful manner. “The truth be told, I was sneaking up on you because I have heard that you are the best speaker in the entire state. I wanted to see if I could catch you practicing or maybe writing a speech.”
She was getting really close to him. He began to notice things for his list, and he started to catalog them: a healthy bosom inside a modest sweater. Honeysuckle perfume. Full, sinful lips. Long black hair you just wanted to grab.
“Deacon Adkins,” Ms. Moon said when she was standing right next to him, “you understand sin.”
He nodded. “Yes, I do.”
“You see what the evil perverts try to pump into our society every day.”
Deep blue eyes like pools of water. A voice that made his crotch come alive. Skin without a single blemish. Cleavage that opened beneath a crucifix.
“I do,” he said. “I see it all.”
“That is why we need you on the national level,” Ms. Moon said.
“National level?” he asked.
She nodded. “I have been talking to some very important contacts whom I can’t name right now, but they own and operate several television networks you may have heard of. We’ve been looking for a champion who understands the kind of enemy we face today. We need someone like you, Deacon, someone who can preach the truth to the world.”
A mouth you wanted to fuck. A voice you wanted to hear cry out your name. A body you wanted to own. A woman you could command.
“I know the truth,” he said. “I hear it in my head.”
“”I know, Deacon,” Diana said. “You speak out against sin because you know how tempting it is. Not everyone can be as strong as you.”
“But,” she said, and Deacon Adkins heard fear in her voice, “my contacts, they are a little worried. They say you give wonderful speeches, but they fear that you are lacking that little extra something that would make you great. There is some element missing that is keeping you from being the next nationwide religious leader.”
“What is it?” he asked. He could feel greatness stretch out before him like the vast valley of Ms. Moon’s cleavage. Other ideas added themselves to his list, filling him with lust and desire. Cadillacs. Fine watches. Secretaries with diamond earrings.
“What is missing?” Deacon Adkins asked.
Diana reached for his pants. She unbuttoned them and pulled out his manhood. He was hard. He was always hard when he made his lists.
Fingers that gripped like iron. Fingernails that stroked and teased. A palm that fit under the balls.
“What are you doing?” he groaned. But he did not stop her.
“What you need to become the new prophet of the Lord,” Diana said. She held onto his manhood while she pulled down her skirt. Off it came, and he could see the bare flesh she had underneath. The list in his head grew louder.
Smooth shaven lips. A red swollen button. A pink vessel waiting to be filled.
“Enter me, Deacon,” Diana said. “Not to sin, but to understand the sin. Experience it so you can warn others!”
“Yes!” he cried.
Diana fell back onto the pew, still holding him by his manhood. She guided him down, down, down into her sex. He entered her, sliding deep into that place where all sin began. She released his cock and grabbed her ankles. Diana spread herself like a harlot for him, but he felt no guilt. They were doing the Lord’s work.
Hot. Wonderful. Tight. Plunging bliss. Wet. Damnation. Pleasure. Wonderful. Wonderful. Wonderful.
He spilled his seed inside her like a Catholic. He kept thrusting. He had forgotten how overwhelming sex really was. Sweaty hip-hop singers and dirty television shows were tempting, but ramming a wet pussy that is literally asking for it? That was something else altogether. This, he could almost argue, was worth being damned for.
All good things must come to an end, and for Deacon Adkins’s erection, it happened 10 minutes after he ejaculated. He pulled out with great reluctance. He was exhausted but also a little humbled. This was what he had preached against, and yet he felt it was too strong. Who could possibly resist these wonderful feelings?
“Don’t look so sad,” Diana said. She let go of her ankles, but she did not close her legs. Her thighs stayed wide apart so that he could see that blessed place he had just been.
Against the wall. From behind. In his bathroom. Behind the pulpit. On the floor.
All he could think about was where he wanted to have sex with Diana next.
“How do people turn away from such wicked treasures?” he asked. “What can I possibly say to make them not do this every chance they get?”
Diana reached for his wilting penis. Even though it was covered with her juices, she started stroking him.
“Deacon, I am prepared to keep doing this until you figure it out.”
to be continued,