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The New Parishioner

by thecryptkeeper 12/28/13

"What in heaven's name are you doing out on a night like this?" Melissa asked.

In silk pajamas that loosely followed the developed curves of Melissa's young, athletic body, it took every ounce of Reggie's willpower to stop his eyes from devouring her and revealing his intentions.

"I saw the storm coming and thought I better get gasoline for my generator and some firewood. When I got to town, the store had closed already. I tried to get back home but my truck slid off the road and got stuck a mile back from here," Reggie explained peeling off his wet mittens and sticking them in his jacket pocket.

Melissa thought about the inappropriateness of a strange black man staying the night while her husband was away. But in good conscience, she could not refuse Reggie lodging if the storm continued raging, and answered sympathetically, "Well you can't go out with it storming like this. You'll freeze to death. Let me take your jacket to dry before you catch cold."

She went to help him remove the backpack he was wearing so he could take off the jacket, but he stopped her.

"I've got it," Reggie said. "It's pretty heavy."

He placed the backpack on the hardwood floor leaning it against the end of the sofa.

Melissa hung his ski jacket over the back of a chair and left his galoshes by the fire to dry.

With his puffy jacket off, Melissa noticed large muscles bulging beneath Reggie's shirt. She wondered what type of strenuous physical labor he performed to make them so big.

Reggie was somewhat handsome, but she was married and not interested other men — especially black men. His strong facial structure looked like it had been sculpted in marble with smooth dark brown skin; short kinky black hair on top of his head; wet, black eyes like obsidian.

Melissa took a sip of tea she had prepared earlier, now lukewarm, and saw Reggie watching her. "I'm sorry I can't make you some with the power out. Would you like something cold to drink? Ice water perhaps?" she asked jokingly.

Reggie smirked. "Actually, I am a little thirsty, but you can hold the ice."

Melissa minced her way to the kitchen nursing the fragile flame from a candle.

When she left the room, Reggie leaned over to where his backpack sat next to the couch, silently retracted its zipper enough to slide his hand inside, and procured a vial he had brought for this special occasion. He hurriedly spiked her tea with a large dose of the clear liquid — the finest date rape formulation available.

Snow and sleet fell outside and frigid wind strained through crevices in the old, drafty structure as Melissa groped in the dimly lit cupboard for a glass. It looked increasingly likely that this black man, a practical stranger, would have to stay the night. This prospect did not sit well with her.

Reggie was zippering his backpack closed as Melissa returned with a glass of water.

"My cell phone doesn't work in the house, but as soon as it lets up, we'll go outside and call someone to come help you."

It was a tactful hint that she did not want him here any longer than necessary, and Reggie got it. "I don't think anyone will come out in this weather anyway. I'm really sorry for this inconvenience. I didn't know what else to do. Your house is the only place around for miles."

Melissa returned to the other end of the sofa and sipped from the half-full cup. The cold gave the tea a slightly different, vaguely salty flavor, she thought, smacking her lips together and finishing the soupçon remaining.

"Have you lived here long?" Melissa asked, forgetting about the bad vibe she received from Reggie and finding herself in a more talkative mood.

"About four months."

"Where are you from?"

Reggie paused a moment not wanting to reveal too much about himself and thinking about his answer. The less she knew about him the better. He lied and told her he was from Ashville.

He decided to encourage the uncharacteristic garrulousness in her that the drug induced. "How about you?"

Unusual exhilaration and a girlish silliness she had buried years ago bubbled to her surface in a drunken euphoria. She opened more to him, providing her entire life history it seemed in speech becoming increasingly slurred and less coherent.

Melissa chattered without noticing Reggie inching closer. He comfortably reclined and put his arm around her shoulders, his touch strangely redolent of her first loves, and smiled into her face as he adjusted an extremely large bulge in his pants.

Melissa saw the curved outline of his immense manhood strain against the fabric, reach above his left hip, and practically pop out the waistband of his trousers. She realized something was wrong with her. She could not think straight anymore. She tried standing and almost fell before Reggie jumped up and caught her.

"Whoa, you're in no condition to walk," Reggie said, holding Melissa against him. She was everything he sought in a woman — a beautiful face, a perfect little body and white. Something about stuck-up white women in particular made Reggie extra horny.

Tight in Reggie's arms, she tried to recoil from the hardness of his penis that she felt through his pants pushing into her tummy.

"Get hands off. Let... go," she babbled, beginning to feel slightly nauseous and very groggy.

"Are you okay? What's the matter?" An out-of-place smile appeared on Reggie's face. "You're not feeling well, baby."

She stared at him with a vacant look, like someone heavily drugged and on an intense trip.

"I better get you in bed; you may have the flu or something."

Reggie sat Melissa on the sofa and with the candle she had used earlier, searched her house, finding her cellphone, its charger and a set of keys on the kitchen table. In another room, he found her computer and removed its power cord.

He returned to the living room with Melissa's phone and keys in his pockets, the phone charger and computer power cord in his hand. Melissa was gone and the front door left open as an invitation for cold, wind and sleet.

Reggie grabbed a flashlight from his backpack. The darkness seemed to swallow him as he left the house and went into the frigid night to find her.

He discovered Melissa slumped over the hood of her locked car. Her keys, along with her cellphone, were safely in his pockets.

Snow covered Melissa. Wearing only her pajamas, she was soaked and freezing.


Atop Melissa's chiffonier a solitary candle glimmered, her somber bedroom filled with shadows and chill. Behind purple lips, her teeth chattered as she shivered in Reggie's arms. The potent drug attenuated what would have been her violent kicks, strikes, and desperate squirms.

Reggie plopped her into bed, his immense cock hard and aching to bore into her tight cunt and soothe itself. First, he needed to treat Melissa's hypothermia.

"We've got to get these wet pajamas off you right away."

Reggie started unbuttoning her top. Several buttons flew off the garment in his haste to remove it. Melissa's fingers unsuccessfully fought to keep it fastened. Her gorgeous breasts and tight stomach appeared as Reggie ultimately succeeded in undoing the piece.

"No, leave alone," she slurred, clutching the open, wet garment to her chest as he sat her up and and it dangled open.

He grappled it from her. Off Melissa's shoulders and down her arms the pajama top finally came with several hard tugs, Reggie tossing it from the bed. Her arm tremulously crossed over her chest concealing her nipples that had hardened from the cold.

Reggie shoved her down. His fingers slid inside the waistbands of her pajama bottoms and panties and bunched them in his fists. He yanked fiercely. The sodden silk garments jerked from her hips came down her legs, and reunited with her top somewhere on the floor. Melissa lay naked on her back beneath him, arm covering her breasts, hand over her vagina, and shivers so severe the entire bed trembled.

Reggie managed to undress himself while straddling Melissa, her body writhing beneath him.

A glimpse in the shadows left Melissa doubting her own eyes. His penis could not really be that large.

"This will get you warm." He grabbed her wrists and wrestled them above her head while resting his naked, muscular body on top of Melissa, sinking her into the mattress.

"Get off," Melissa groaned through clenched teeth. Her hands escaped his clutch and ineffectively pushed at his sides while her nipples poked into his chest.

The sensation of his monstrous penis pressing against her, its warmth and hardness reaching above her belly button, confirmed what she saw in the shadows.

Melissa's body thawed from Reggie's warmth. The powerful drug calmed her and allowed her to drowse as he stroked her soft, flowing hair.

The fragrance of lavender shampoo she had used earlier entered his nostrils. He nibbled up her neck inhaling the pleasant aroma and her nipples perked into him more. "That's it baby, let me keep you warm," Reggie whispered.

The flames in the living room fireplace died and the temperature throughout the house dropped. He licked his fingers and reached between her legs.

As the candle in her room dimmed, Melissa's consciousness followed a similar course drifting toward delirium. For brief intervals she hallucinated in the darkness. Reggie became Bill, they shared tender moments and she stopped resisting. Reggie established footholds, extended boundaries, secured concessions, seized additional territory from her.

"Ooh, Bill, please," Melissa whimpered as Reggie culled her clitoris from her soft, silky folds and petted her tiny, pink friend — awakening it from dormancy into swollen arousal. Minutes later, realizing he was not Bill, she protested, "No, stop it!" Her fingers dug into Reggie's wrist and tried unsuccessfully to pull his hand away from her vagina.

"Don't fight it!" Reggie thundered, viciously twisting her nipples and slapping her face. His strike stunned Melissa. He held her down and resumed masturbating her with less opposition.

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