Jehovah's Witness

The morning unusually crept up on the Jonesville community, much to the surprise of the more perceptive residents. Tom, one such resident who realized the phenomenon, was already up prepping for his usual Saturday routine, that involved early morning meditations, just before munching down on a full morning of the English Premier League. He got himself groomed, made breakfast, found the channel, and was settling fine. The winds had pried the windows open, chilling his one room studio as if he had an industrial air conditioning unit, that also heightened the scent of grounded coffee that permeated the air. The plastic diamonds on his chandelier danced as if they were being conducted by the winds, which fixated Tom’s head in its direction, marveling at the object’s talent.

 

Another gale of wind had swooped in before Tom decided to check on the weather outside, as he couldn’t recall the expectancy of rain. The skies were upset. They were no longer blue and quirky, but gray and engulfed in rage. Its thunderous screams drove some amount of fear into Tom and his neighbors, as their shrieks could be heard under the rumbling of the skies.

“Seem like God vex with unu,” he snickered while making his way back inside.

Shortly after settling back in his humble abode, the match started and he drifted away in his own little utopia.

 

The match kicked off to an exciting start. Attack after attack being countered with sublime defending and counterattacking; Tom was at the edge of his bed enjoying every second the ball rolled across the pitch. Adrenaline was high, his heart was racing, his palms became sweaty as the stakes of this match was very high…one would think Tom was actually a player on the pitch. After about fifteen minutes, the energy and thrill of the game dwindle down and Tom was washed away in sweet slumber, snoring the very minute his eyelids clasped each other.

 

“Halloo?”…. “halloo?” was shrieked with the most peculiar voice accompanied by intense knocking on his door.

Tom instantly sprung to his feet as he had thought it was an angel of the Lord calling him amid the thunders. He rushed to his door in a panic with fright and fear plastered on his face.

“Am I ready for heaven?” he thought to himself while thinking back on all the dirty deeds he had done throughout his life.

His hands shook in pandemonium. Unable to open his door, his panic grew and just as his was about to pass out, there was the click- and the door was opened. To his surprise, it wasn’t an angel of the Lord, but a messenger adorned in an aquamarine skirt and white blouse, topped off with a white fedora hat. She clenched her bible and pamphlets upon her bosom, with an umbrella in the other hand, in the event of rain. She was a Jehovah’s Witness. The winds blew the fear off his face, leaving a residue of disgust that littered his eyes and mouth as he pouted.

 

“Do you have some time to spare young man?” she asked as she surveyed his presence.

 

“My time comes at a cost,” he responded… “And the starting price is quite hefty too,” he continued.

 

“Too much for the Jehovah who died for your sins and mine?” she asked.

 

“I am a bit busy, how long will this take?” he inquired.

 

Tom then leaned between his doorposts as if he was Magic Mike with his five foot six inches frame taking up most of the doorway. He wasn’t fit, but you could tell he was an athlete many moons ago. His skin was painted by the best fine artists who were able to capture an extravagant blend of chocolate and caramel, giving him a golden brown hue. The peach fuzz in his chest were as black as coal so much so that he check his fingers momentarily after rubbing them through his hair.

 

“Would you mind dressing more appropriately before we start?” she asked.

 

“I do mind actually, I’m home and I’m usually not dressed at home,” he responded.

 

“No worries,” she countered. “Are you saved?” she continued asking.

 

“I’m not,” Tom answered with a gleeful sigh.

As the exchange continued, the grimaces of irritation became evident on Tom’s face, however, her hat was too wide for her to notice.

 

“I apologize, but do you have a bathroom I can use?” the messenger asked.

 

“No, I pee in the yard,” Tom answered.

 

“Aren’t you a smart ass,” she clapped back.

 

“I like this side of you Miss Messenger,” he chuckled…. “It’s the door on the left,” he said while pointing.

 

It began raining cats and dogs and Tom closed his door to prevent the water from coming inside, and regained his position to watch his game. As he tuned in to the game, he glimpsed the messenger’s physique through his bathroom mirror, and his attention was grasped elsewhere. He was fixated on how she tightened her corset to give the appearance of her bosom being perky and stomach being nonexistent. As she walked out, he quickly re-positioned his vision his attention to his television, but to his surprise she had seen him.

 

“Looking for something?” she asked.

“You know you don’t have to do that right?”…he responded. “Under those garments, you’re quite appealing,” he continued.

 

“I rebuke you in Jehovah’s name!” she shrieked.

 

“And I can bet that Jehovah agrees with me too,” she smirked.

 

“I’m leaving, thanks for your hospitality,” she said while gathering her things.

 

“Rain a fall outside enuh, so it no make sense you try leave.”

 

“I have an umbrella.”

 

“That nah go help, trust me,” he responded. “I’ll drop you home when the rain eases, my car is parked across the street,” he continued.

“I’m sorry for coming off that way as well, but I am being honest, your body looks amazing,” Tom said while holding on to her waist.

 

“I don’t think so….I don’t feel attractive at times,” she countered.

 

“Feeling is a concept hun,” Tom retaliated as he pulled her closer. “Jehovah spent a little more time on you,” he continued while lifting her chin to look into her eyes.

 

As she got carried away in the gaze of his stare, he leaned in for a kiss, to which she obliged. Her warm hands caressed his neck as he hoisted her unto the edge of his bed. The kissing got steamy. Her breathing got quicker and shorter.

 

“St…stop,” she moaned between her breaths as she locked him within the grasps of her legs.

 

Tom slowly kissed her neck to her nipples, then down to her navel. He stopped and looked through the windows of her soul as he burst her Victoria Secret panties off. He was taken aback by the patch of gray hair on her pussy and was overwhelmed with silence. That did not stop him as he was committed to the mission at hand. His fingers crept upon her thighs followed by slow kisses on the inside of her thighs. Messenger’s legs shook uncontrollably. Her eyes reversed to the rhythm of the vibrations which catalyzed an overflowing of the banks of the lips of her vagina. As Tom slid his finger inside her pool of wetness, she pulled him closer while biting on his lips.

 

“I need you inside me,” she whispered in his ear.

 

“Just a minute baby girl, you’re not wet enough as yet,” Tom answered.

 

“I’m literally soaking your bed with squirt child!” she exclaimed while forcing his rock hard cock inside of herself.

 

One stroke. Two stroke, and by the third she was trembling like a leaf on a windy summer’s day.

 

“Jehovah!” Messenger screamed as she started squirting. She grabbed her bible and ran out the house naked as the day she was born.

 

A few weeks had passed and Tom had been checking all the Jehovah’s Witness churches within his community to luckily find Messenger once again. He had one of her pamphlets that had a strip of paper with a name scribbled on it, and he used it as his only reference. Just as he was about to throw in the towel, he stumbled upon a church at the back entrance of his community scheme. With a leap of faith, he approached a member who was standing at the church door, showed him the name and asked if she was a member of the church. The man’s eyes were saddened and asked if he was a family member. He then dug into his briefcase and took out an obituary and said,

“Carmen has been dead for three years!”