When I pulled up to the parsonage, I spotted Mike’s car in the driveway. Perfect timing. I grabbed my bag of salvaged items and headed inside, already planning how I’d torture him next.
The moment I stepped through the door, I heard his voice coming from the kitchen. He was on the phone, his tone serious and pastoral. I kicked off my boots deliberately loudly, wanting him to know I was there.
“I have to go,” I heard him say. “Yes, I’ll call you back later. Thank you, Maggy.”
I strolled into the kitchen, dust-covered and sweaty from my morning’s work. Mike was leaning against the counter, phone still in hand, wearing a blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His eyes widened slightly when he saw me.
“Productive morning?” he asked, his voice just a little higher than usual.
“Very,” I drawled, setting my bag on the table. I made a point of stretching, my t-shirt riding up to expose my stomach. His eyes dropped to the strip of skin, then quickly darted away. “Found some interesting stuff in what’s left of the house.”
“That’s... that’s good,” he stammered.
I smirked, stepping closer to him. “You’re home early. No souls to save today?”
“Colt’s handling things at the church again,” he explained, backing up slightly as I advanced. “And it’s too crowded to have a service just yet. Besides, I needed to catch up on some paperwork left behind by the old pastor.”
“Hmm,” I hummed, closing the distance between us until he was trapped against the counter. “You sure that’s why you came home early?”
His breathing quickened, his blue eyes darting between mine and my lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t you?” I reached past him to grab a glass from the cabinet, my chest brushing against his. I could feel the heat radiating off him, could hear the slight catch in his breath. “I think you do.”
I filled the glass with water from the tap, taking my time as I stood close enough to feel his nervous energy. When I finally stepped back, he looked both disappointed and relieved.
“I’m going to shower,” I announced, taking a long drink of water while maintaining eye contact. “All that digging through rubble got me filthy.”
“Right,” he nodded, swallowing hard. “Of course.”
I set the glass down and headed for the hallway, then paused, glancing back at him over my shoulder. “You know, I didn’t get a chance to thank you properly for letting me stay here.”
“No thanks necessary,” he said quickly.
“Oh, but I insist,” I replied with a wicked grin, reaching down and grabbing my cock through my jeans. “I’m very...grateful.”
I left him standing there, his face flushed and his pants noticeably tighter. This was almost too easy.
In the shower, I took my time, letting the hot water sluice over my body as I thought about how to escalate things. I wanted him desperate, completely driven insane by his desire for me. I wanted him to forget whatever vows pastors took, his position, everything except how badly he wanted me inside him.
When I finished, I wrapped a towel loosely around my waist, making sure it hung low enough to be in danger of falling off. Then I stepped out into the hallway, still dripping wet.
“Hey, Mike?” I called out. “You got any clean towels? This one’s kinda damp.”
I heard movement, then footsteps approaching. Mike appeared at the end of the hall, a fresh towel in hand. He froze when he saw me, his eyes traveling from my wet hair, down my chest, to where the towel barely clung to my hips.
“Y-Yeah,” he said, going to the linen closet. He returned with a fluffy fresh towel. “Here,” he said, his voice thick as he held out the towel.
I didn’t move to take it, just stood there, water droplets running down my chest. “You mind bringing it to me? My hands are busy.”
They weren’t, but he didn’t argue. He walked toward me slowly, like a man approaching a wild animal. When he reached me, towel extended, I deliberately let my current one drop to the floor.
His sharp intake of breath was audible as I stood before him completely naked, my cock already half-hard under his gaze.
“Thanks,” I said casually, taking the fresh towel from his trembling hand but making no move to cover myself. “You’re always so helpful. I bet that’s why everyone around here likes you so much.”
His eyes were glued to my body, his breathing shallow. “I... I should go,” he whispered, but his feet didn’t move.
I stepped closer, the heat between us palpable. “Should you?” I murmured, letting the towel dangle from my fingers, unused. “Is that what you really want to do, Pastor?”
