HOLY SEX Episode 3
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????❤️???? HOLY SEX EPISODE THREE:
You walk elegantly to the altar, conscious of your gait. You are aware of the hundreds of eyes that trail the movement of your buttocks.
‘Can you please help the ladies over there with the curtain?’
‘No problem, sir.’ Your mouth quivers; his eyes lock with yours. You look down and your gaze descends to his well-polished shoes. His cologne wafts into your nostrils—you try to identify the designer perfume he is wearing and the name of the designer of the suit. You stare at the curly hairs on the back of his palm.
You turn to go and he says, ‘Excuse me!’
‘Sir?’ You turn.
‘Are you alright?’
‘Yes, Pastor. I am fine, thank you.’
‘Please see me after service.’
‘Ermm…yes, Pastor.’
You move to the side of the altar where some young ladies are having difficulties drawing the drapes. As you lift the first curtain into a bunch and tie it in a knot, a beautiful lady who is average in height walks out from the vestry and sits at the end of the altar. She is Mummy Ada, the pastor’s wife. You gape at her – her head-tie, her long skirt, her blouse, and her beautiful make-up. You are jealous as you imagine her in bed with your pastor.
After service, you walk to the back of the church with Zainab; there are a lot of young girls waiting to see Pastor Samuel. There are some rich men and women, too. Your pastor is standing with his wife. She shakes hands with everyone who comes close to her husband and talks briefly with them. When people give brown paper envelopes to your pastor, she collects them and smiles. Sometimes, your pastor steps aside shortly to discuss with someone who has come to see him and then re-joins his wife.
So when it is your turn, he says to his wife,
‘Excuse me, Sugar.’
He takes your hand and steps some feet away from his wife.
‘My name is Pastor Samuel. I am the Senior Pastor here.’
His alluring eyes search your face and you are shy. So you look away, and say, ‘My name is Blessing.’
He smiles. ‘You have a nice name. What do you do?’
‘I am a call centre attendant for MTN. I am new in Lagos.’
‘You have a nice job. How long have you been in this city?’
‘Four months, sir.’
‘I hope you are enjoying Lagos. But this city corrupts good girls, so I am glad that you are always in the church. I see you here every Sunday.’
‘Oh, Pastor. Out of your congregation of over one thousand, you manage to notice me?’
‘Yes, of course—’
‘You wanted to see me, sir?’ you ask, because you are conscious of his wife, who must be wondering what he was discussing with you. Your body is hot inside already, and you cannot remove your eyes from his long fingers, clutching his iPad.
‘What do you do every Wednesday? We hold special prayer sessions for young people. Perhaps you may like to come?’
‘I would be delighted. I have been meaning to come for some time.’
‘So see you next Wednesday. And dress just the way you look today: exquisite,’ he whispers.
He walks back to his wife. You turn and say, ‘Good bye, Mummy’ to his wife, and she approaches you. You wonder what she wants with you.
‘I love your shirt,’ she says.
‘Thank you, Ma.’
TO Be Continued
