Alms 1: Ass Gas or Grass

Alms 1: Ass Grass or Gas

It was 7:41 pm on a particularly rainy Sunday in August. Pastor Michael Bartlett had been driving since he had left the Baptist Church in New Market, where he was a guest speaker for the church anniversary, even though very same Pastor had refused to do the same for his congregation. Michael was not the type of man who held a grudge. He was well versed in the Gospel and knew the value of forgiveness. It was only an hour’s drive from there to his home, however, the destination felt more depressing than the weather. 

He had been a good Christian all of his life. He fought against temptation, resisted the lure of drugs and alcohol, rebuked lustful thoughts, and even managed to go his entire life without once uttering a single word of profanity. Being the son of a prominent Pentecostal preacher himself, he had only picked up one vice. He reached into the breast pocket of his two buttoned coat and retrieved a pack of Camel Wides. He only smoked two or three on his long drives and never more than five in a week. Nonetheless, he knew with no exaggerated sense of certainty, that board of trustees would tear him apart if they ever caught him smoking.

All he needed in his life was to be judged and chastised by a room filled wall to wall with hypocrites. He knew of two that were in adulterous relationships, one that spent their every night a Vixens tipping the nude dancers with scratch-offs, one fella that had been caught in a motel room with another guy, and his head Deacon, who often came to service stinking of whiskey. Few people understood the kind of pressure that rested on Michael’s shoulders. If he was successful then it was all glory to God. However, if he was to fail then the responsibility fell solely at his feet.

At thirty-two years of age, the congregation of his church was all much older than he was. Few took his twelve years of experience in the pulpit into account when they called him spoke to or about him. None of these things bothered him for long. The only thing that was strong enough to weigh on Pastor Bartlett’s heart was the loneliness he felt. 

When people from the church would see him in the grocery store, they would turn away, pretending to be ignorant of his presence. No one was keen on the idea of inviting him to places or events as if he was going sneak away and tattletale to God anything he saw. Not one member of the congregation ever called him to see how he was doing. Yet, if he ever once neglected to visit a member or forget a birthday, he would be swiftly called out. It was this cold painful solitude that would keep the Pastor out driving on dreadful nights like this one.

He was never married, only dated two women in his entire life, and despite his athletic build and good looks, Michael Bartlett had not had sex since his senior prom. Since then, he was miraculously able to resist the sins of the flesh, even masturbation, through meticulous dedication to prayer and fasting. However, as the years seem to drag on, he found it more difficult to ignore the pain he felt in the silence of his empty bed. The Pastor had tried everything from speed dating and various apps to Christianmingle.com, none of which having a single woman within a hundred miles that desired to be a part of his life.

He had passed Stephen City exit for the second time when he finally decided to pull over a say his peace to God. Michael then pulled over, creeping to a stop on the gravel shoulder, put his truck in park, and cut the engine off. It was the first time in his life since childhood that he had stopped to ask God for something just for him. While in prayer he spoke of the crippling depression he felt and the abysmal loneliness at its core. He then asked for evidence of his Heavenly Father’s favor. It had to be something that only God could deliver. He had spent a good twenty minutes pleading and crying in his prayer, pouring out his soul out on the altar of his heart. It was no sooner than he said amen, that he would receive his answer.

Just as he finished drying the tears from his eyes, the radio came on all by itself. He didn’t recognize the song that was playing, but he instantly felt at ease. To the Pastor, this had to be a sign from above. After all, Michael had yet to turn the key, starting the truck. Emerging from the radio’s soft chorus, a voice began to speak with a clear thunderous tone.

”Rejoice, my humble servant. For the Prophet will receive this day a two-fold blessing. He will stop to feed his horse when he will see a child of the pharaoh traveling with an eastern companion. The pair will twice refuse aid before they approach the Prophet. The Prophet shalt not refuse them for fear of kindling my anger. This blessing I offer only to him, even as I have refused it to others. He will know the extent of my charity and proclaim it to the world. He will know the favor I hold for him.” The voice said shortly before the radio stopped.

The Pastor sprang up as if suddenly awakening from a trance. He swiftly fired up the engine trying to regain the radio feed. It was the first time since he had bought the vehicle that it started with only one attempt. He immediately turned the radio on only to hear You Shook Me All Night Long by ACDC playing instead of the divine chorus that had been on only seconds earlier. It was when he turned the radio back off that Michael noticed that the fuel gauge was pointed to the E. This struck him as odd since he had filled the tank just after the morning services. He then considered that he had been driving for hours on end and had likely used up all the gas in the tank.

Winchester was only another seven miles down 81, and his home, six miles beyond that. Although he didn’t fully understand what the voice on the radio was talking about, he was certain that it was a message especially for him. That alone was enough to make him more excited than he had been in years. He nearly peeled out as he pulled back onto the highway heading towards Winchester Virginia. Just over fifteen minutes later he pulled into the Sheetz by Jim Barnett Park. He counted himself lucky that there wasn’t a wait because no sooner did he pull up to the pump, his truck ran out of gas. It sputtered briefly shortly before the engine stopped just in time for him to put it into the park.

He got out of the truck a put his debit card into the pump reader, selected the grade, and hooked the nozzle into his tank. He couldn’t help but smile when he spotted the shiny reflective letters on the side of his vehicle. The word bronco was spelled out boldly in all caps. He knew a bronco to be an unbroken horse, and his stead fed on petroleum. He began looking frantically for the child of the pharaoh. However, despite the torrential downpour, there were still plenty of people out and about.

It was then that he spotted them. Two girls walking past the gas station. One was middle-eastern, the other Asian. Both girls were in their late teens to early twenties. The Asian girl was noticeably petite, with long silky black hair and pale skin. She had small perky breasts that were poorly concealed beneath a white blouse tied just above her midriff, a narrow waist, and a beautiful round butt that was wonderfully displayed in her stonewashed daisy dukes. Because of the cool rain that left her soaking wet, he could discern that she was neither wearing a bra nor underwear. An observation, that would leave the Pastor with an uneasy feeling.

The middle-eastern girl was much taller than her friend, standing at nearly six feet tall with curly brown shoulder-length hair. She had much larger breasts. They were at least size D-cups, barely contained within her pink tank top and cut-off denim vest. She had a darker complexion with long muscular thighs and firm buttocks that were peeking out from the large holes that had been intentionally sliced into her tightly stretched jeans. He was able to see that she had a thicker waist than her Asian friend. It was as if she had retained her natural baby fat well into adulthood. 

The Pastor was struggling to refrain from staring. Both girls were beautiful and exotic, each with their stunning features that could easily lead a man into temptation. He soon found himself setting his gaze to anything but the girls. He was a man of the cloth, and no matter how lonely he was or how carnal his cravings may have been, he had to adhere to the strict discipline of the Word of God. Just the fact that he felt it necessary to avert his eyes, was enough to fill him with worry.

It was the sound of an argument that returned Michael’s attention to the pair. A pale blue Ford Focus had pulled up to the two girls. He wasn’t able to hear exactly what had been said, but he had a distinct impression that they had been propositioned. Both ladies were visibly upset, and after a few choice words from the Asian girl, the car sped off with the driver shouting obscenities. Almost immediately after that, a maroon mini-van cut them off only for the sequence of events to be repeated. Although Michael felt compelled to interject, he said nothing to draw attention to himself. He instead withdrew the nozzle and jumped back in his truck only to be startled by a sudden knocking on his passenger window.

”Excuse me, Sir. Hey sorry to scare ya.” The young Asian girl said with a raised voice and a smile.

”Uh… Excuse me, Yes?” Michael replied, a bewildered expression on his face.

”I hate to ask, but my friend and I are stranded. We were hoping for a lift. I wouldn’t normally ask for help, you see, we got caught in the rain and can’t seem to go a block without being harassed.” She said, still smiling, but in visible distress.

Michael again remembered the message from his radio. He knew that this had to be some sort of mistake or even a coincidence. However, the girls were in trouble, now asking a man of God for aid. He couldn’t dare count himself among the Saints if he were to leave them to their fate. So, without saying a word, he popped open the passenger door.

”Hop in.” He said as casually as he could. 

”My friend too?” she asked with a look of concern.

”Of Course, Young Lady. The back is unlocked. Y’all can both sit in the back if it makes you more comfortable.” He replied with a warm smile.

”That’s ok, we trust you.” She said as both girls claimed in sitting next to the Pastor in the bench seat.

Despite being a man of faith, Michael couldn’t help but wonder if he had lost his mind picking up the two girls. The clothing that the pair were adorned in was enough to give any member of his congregation the wrong idea. In his twelve years in the pulpit, he had witnessed far more respected Pastors removed for much less. It was a danger in his calling that few people understood. It was the power of perception. If they perceived that he was engaged in any manner of serious sinful activities, it could easily result in a lifetime of service being brought to an abrupt end. Where Michael wasn’t always happy with his life, he knew that he needed the ministry just as he needed to breathe. It was a loss that he would never be able to bear.

Soon, the Parable of the Good Sumatran seems to resurface in his mind, encouraging him to continue on his current course. In his early years as a Pastor, he would never have refused the opportunity to help someone in need. Nor, would he have considered what others thought of his doing so. He reminded himself, that he had to have faith that he was protected from worldly forces when he was walking the righteous path. With this in mind, he took a deep breath and turned the key starting his Bronco.

”I’m Michael.” He said with a gentle smile.

”Hi Michael, I’m Ami. The tall Egyptian girl next to me is Rashida.” Ami said, pointing to her Arab counterpart.

” Egypt?” Michael asked, trying to sound friendly.

”Yes. My family immigrated here from  Cairo when I was l little.” Rashida replied with a pleasant tone.

”And, Ami, is it? Would it be rude to ask where you are from?” Michael questioned, still making conversation.

”Yup, still Ami.” She chuckled. ” I’m from San Diego, but I am Japanese if that’s what you were asking.” Ami replied with a cheeky grin.

”I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect.” Michael stammered nervously.

”It’s cool, I get it all the time. You guys all look the same to me too.” Ami said with a cheerful sarcasm. ” we’re just grateful for the ride, and you can’t know an answer if you won’t ask the questions.” She added as she shivered suddenly.

Without missing a beat, Michael reached over Ami’s lap and switched on the heater, all while being careful not to get close enough for the girls to confuse his intentions. As he repositioned himself in the driver’s seat, he noticed that both passengers were looking right at him with coy smiles. He had no idea of what he could have done or said that would cause the girls to look at him in such a peculiar way. He soon found himself staring back with a blank look on his face.

”Did I say something wrong?” Michael inquired as he tried to break the awkward silence.

”No, we are just wondering if you were going to ask where we are headed.” Rashida replied, leaning forward to make eye contact with Michael.

”Oh.” Michael said with an embarrassed laugh. ”That certainly would be good to know, now wouldn’t it? So, Young Ladies, where to?” He added trying his best to mask how distracted he truly was.

”We need to get to Rashida’s house in Timberville. I don’t know if you know where it is. It’s kinda far, so really, as close as you can get us.” Ami said with a visibly distressed expression on her face.

Ami wasn’t exaggerating about the distance. Michael knew exactly how to get to Timberville. It was a tiny rural town in the middle of nowhere. Most would know it as a place where you stopped for gas on the road to Harrisonburg Virginia. Michael, himself, had passed it by that very morning on his trip to New Market. Where Timberville was only a five-minute drive from New Market, it would take him at least an hour to get there from Winchester. He imagined that even to knockout gorgeous ladies such as his passengers would have a difficult time finding someone willing to make the drive. 

”Wow, that is a long way. Can I ask something of you?” Michael replied 

”Oh man here we go again! And I thought you looked like a nice guy.”  Ami exclaimed like a hyperactive child. 

”I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.” Michael stammered, unsure of what he had done to warrant her reaction.

”Yo Dude, I’m not sure there’s a polite way to be that way.” Rashida snapped with a hateful glare in her eyes.

”I apologize. I only wanted to know why you are so far from home. I understand that it isn’t any of my business. I was only making conversation.” Michael replied feeling both ashamed and oblivious.

”That’s all?” Rashida asked, looking skeptical.

”What else would I be asking? I’m sorry, but I have no idea what just happened.” Michael responded.

He had just pulled out of the gas station parking lot as he could still feel the two girls staring at him, both critically, as well as, curiously. It would be Rashida who broke the silence with a loud bellowing laugh. Ami too, starting laughing almost hysterically turning beet-red in the process. Michael himself was feeling more self-conscious than amused. He tried his best to mask the frustration that he felt as he wondered if the girls were laughing at him. Ami soon picked up on the effect their laughing was having on their good-natured chaperone.

”Man, I’m sorry. We ain’t making fun of you. We just thought that you were that guy for a second.” Rashida stated, her scowl having been replaced with a slight grin.

”What guy?” Michael quickly asked.

”You know, Mr. Ass Grass or Gas.” Ami playfully added.

”Beg your pardon? What is that?” Michael asked.

”Oh come on! Like you don’t know.” Ami sneered sarcastically.

”What are you, Man, a Priest, or something?” Rashida asked with visible doubt.

”I don’t know, and for your information, I am a Pastor.” Michael responded with irritation.

”No Shit?” Rashida gasped.

”For real?” Ami added.

”Yes, my church is out on Middle rd.” Michael said curtly.

”I’m sorry Pastor. It’s been a long day.” Ami said, Rashida nodding in agreement behind her.

”Wanna tell me about it?” Michael asked genuinely concerned.

Ami sighed and took a deep breath. ”Ok, so Rashida and I live in Timberville, where we both started working as cashiers at the grocery store. My car died, and we couldn’t get back and forth to work. So naturally, we were both shit-canned. Now we are being evicted. We worked a little deal out with the landlord that earned us a month rent-free, but we still have to be out tomorrow. So we have to get there tonight and grab whatever we can. I think we will end up moving here, but as of now, we have nowhere to go.” She said with haste.

”You have no family to turn to?” Michael asked.

 

”My parents still live in New York, I moved in with my aunt after 9/11. It wasn’t a good time to live in the city and look Arab. Anyways, Neither my aunt nor, Ami’s parents want anything to do with us. So, to answer your question, no we don’t.” Rashida answered with notable tension.

”I see… So what brings the two of you to Winchester?” He asked.

”A mutual friend told me that there was an apartment available. She also set us with a job interview at Target. We did end up getting jobs, but the apartment won’t be available until mid-September.” Ami Replied.

”Oh man, that’s got to be tough.” Michael comment, unable to think of anything of substance to add.

From what the Pastor could ascertain, he was now driving a newly homeless lesbian couple one way with no final destination. He had his beliefs on the subject of homosexuality, however, he felt that it was his first responsibility to ensure that the girls were safe. It would be God and God alone who would be in the judgment seat over man. He couldn’t allow himself to treat those in his care with any less dignity simply because he disagreed with the choices they made. After all, it would seem that the world has been plenty cruel to them already.

He could hear Ami and Rashida whispering amongst themselves. He would catch himself sneaking little peeks at the various patches of exposed skin on each girl. He knew it was a sinful act to lust after the girls, but it seemed that every time he was able to muster up the restraint to look away, one or both of them would giggle calling his eyes back to them. He wondered why God would arrange for him to drive them. He had a strong sense that it was not to rid them of their sexual immorality. Even as a pastor, it was never one of his focuses. He would usually try to convince people to establish a relationship with God and then allow them to attend to their issues. He was, of course, open to council anyone who welcomed his insights, however, he always imagined himself as a lighthouse more than a rudder. He chose to be a good example, rather than the morality police.

”Hey Preacher, I ain’t slept since I got up yesterday. Would you be willing to pull over so I can crawl in the back?” Rashida asked, a bizarre smile on her face.

Michael smiled and nodded as he slowly pulled over after being only a mile off the on-ramp. He could see the Winchester Medical Center off in the distance as Rashida swiftly climbed out of the passenger side. The rain was coming down in a steady downpour as she climbed into the backseat abruptly shutting the door behind her. Michael then peeled off his coat without bothering to remove his cigarettes or wallet and passed it back to Rashida in place of a blanket. She promptly covered up and closed her eyes as Michael once again resumed driving.

”I can’t get over how nice you are.” Ami said softly.

”I try.” Michael replied blushing slightly.

”No, I mean it. Every guy we’ve met in the last month has been a complete sleaze-ball. No one but you has tried to help us without asking for a piece of ass first.” Ami stated noticeably stressed.

”Really?” Michael asked.

”Oh yeah. That deal we made with Rashida’s landlord, it wasn’t charity. We both had to blow him, and that fat bastard at Target, he fucked me right up my ass. People are horrible. The guy in the van, before we came to you, he offered Rashida twenty dollars to fuck him in the back. You know, right next to the baby in the car seat.” Ami replied as she pulled a sopping we pack of Newport reds from her pocket.

He could see that her cigarettes were ruined. It was a detail that any other time before he would have ignored. He was for the first time in his adult life feeling conflicted on how to go forward. He felt bad for Ami and Rashida. As far as he could tell, they were simply trying to live their lives in peace, but instead, were being used by everyone whom they encountered. On the other hand, he could now admit to himself that he was tempted. Even acting as a sympathetic ear, he was feeling aroused. He could now visualize the girls performing the various sexual acts that Ami had described.

”I keep a pack of cigarettes in my coat. You can get one for each of us if you promise not to mention it to anyone.” Michael whispered trying not to wake Rashida.

Ami’s eyes lit up and she was smiling ear to ear as she sprang from her seat. Michael couldn’t resist the urge to her firm shapely backside while she was bent over the backrest searching for the cigarettes. He even caught himself fantasizing about what it would be like to touch her. He knew that such thoughts would only lead him to ruin, however, he could feel the tension as his pants were growing ever tighter around his erection. It was the first time in the whole of his life that he yearned for the life of a sinner. More specifically, the desired to peruse his carnal appetite without the shame that often accompanied it.

His hunger would only be further taunted as his petite Asian passenger returned to her seat with the Camels.

Michael immediately noticed that her blouse had come undone leaving her small yet perky and large dark nipples proudly on display. It wasn’t until Ami went to light the two cigarettes that it registered with her that she was exposed. Yet, to Michael’s surprise, she did not attempt to cover up. Instead, she looked up at him smiling with two cigarettes been her soft lips and winked.

”I’m so sorry. I should have said something. I just…You deserve better.” Michael floundered, his face flushed.

”It’s ok. Keep your voice down. My titties are out and you looked. I get it. It’s natural to look. Rashida and I have been checking you out since we saw you pumping gas. Hell, if you weren’t a pastor I’m sure she would have been all over you. I have a question for you.” Ami whispered, her tone much less juvenile than it had previously been.

”What is it?” Michael questioned.

”Is that a crucifix in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? Either way, it looks like too much wood to keep tucked away.” Ami said as she scooted a little closer to Michael before handing him a lit cigarette.

He almost choked on his air as he tried not to laugh. Even by his standards, Ami’s statement was pretty corny, but it was also titillating. He could feel the moisture from her delicate lips on his cigarette’s pumpkin-colored filter. It was the closest thing to an actual kiss he had experienced in more than a decade. He had long since resigned any notion of kissing someone as attractive as Ami or Rashida, let alone engaging in any kind of sexual activity. Then suddenly somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, it hit him. What if God was throwing him the proverbial bone. He knew how ridiculous of an idea it was, however, in his current state, the thought had serious merit.

”I couldn’t possibly be like those before me who took advantage of you and Rashida. It wouldn’t be right. I also can’t expect flesh in exchange for me doing what they should have.” Michael said sternly.

”You got me all wrong Pastor. This isn’t in exchange for anything. I am not saying Ass Grass or Gas. I’m talking about my alms. You’re a good guy, one of the few. It hardly seems fair that you would go out of your way to help other mother-fuckers with their problems, only to have yours neglected.” Ami said, leaning even closer. ”Why should some fat fucking creep get to put his load in me while you’re driving for Jesus with blue balls. Don’t think I didn’t notice the bulge in your pants as I told you about it, and it’s not like I didn’t get wet telling you. Be honest, if you can swear to God that me touching you isn’t what you want then I will tie my blouse and keep to myself.” Ami added as she began to gently caress the outline of his erection.

”Go on Pastor. Tell me to stop.” Amy snickered.

Michael said nothing as Ami’s tiny hand slithered its way into his lap. The rhythmic squeaks and thudding of the Broncos windshield wipers served to perfectly mask the sound of his zipper being pulled open. The sensation of Ami’s slender fingers fishing around for his hard member sent his mind racing. He knew that they had to stop. However, his will to resist her obscene charms was fully diminished. He could now feel the soft silky smooth touch of her fingers wrapped around the shaft of his erect cock as she freed it from its polyester prison. His heart was racing and his mind went blank with the buzzing tingles that shot through his body as she began to gently stroke his shaft. He tried to speak, yet nothing came out. The pleasure was too intense for him to competently structure words. 

Ami’s hand was twirling up and down his hard rod, picking up speed with each long skillful stroke. Michael was struggling to maintain his composure and focus on driving. His legs were shaking furiously and his rapid breathing was like that of a Lamaze class. Ami then began to slowly kiss and nibble on Michael’s neck just below his ear.

”Tell me, Pastor, when was the last time you came?” Ami asked with a sultry voice, her hot breath filling Michael’s ear canal as she continued to stroke his cock with a soft grip.

”May twenty-fourth, 2006.” Michael stammered between swallowed breathes.

”Holy fuck dude. Let me fix that for you.” Ami said as she started stroking furiously to milk Michal’s rock hard cock.

The pleasure had become more than he could withstand causing a thick creamy string of semen to erupt from the head of his dick. After one or two more pumps of his shaft, a second stream burst forth splashing into both the windshield and steering wheel. Michael peered down to his lap. There was cum all over his blue button-up shirt, his tailored black slacks, and Ami’s slender hand. He knew that his clothes were ruined. Even if they could be salvaged, he would never have the courage to bring them to a dry cleaner. Nonetheless, he had never felt so relaxed.

”Oh my. So that’s what a fourteen-year load looks like. You’re such a dirty boy. Just look at this mess.” Ami said as she seductively licked Michael’s sperm from her right hand.

”I…I’m sorry.” Michael replied still gasping for air.

”Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean it up.” Ami quickly proclaimed as she buried her face into Michael’s lap.

Waves of electricity were coursing throughout Michael’s fidgeting body as Ami effortlessly took the entirety of his swollen sensitive pole into her mouth. It had been too soon since he had come, and he was burdened with the hypersensitivity of his shaft. However, after about a mile of driving the discomfort from his overstimulation had subsided, making way for overwhelming euphoria. His inhibitions were swiftly fading away with every passing moment. Ami’s lips and tongue were gliding up and down his rigid shaft leaving it glazed with her slick saliva.

Michael ran his fingers through Ami’s long black dampened hair, as her head steadily rose and descended on his swollen rod. Even in his inexpensive, he could recognize Ami’s undeniable aptitude for fellatio. Her soft moist tongue was to be scrubbing and massaging the sensitive skin of Michael’s dick. The cab was soon filled with the melody of Ami’s rhythmic breathing and seductive moaning. Soon, his groans of pleasure could be heard over the thundering noise created by the heavy rain outside. Neither Ami nor Michael appeared concerned any longer with waking Rashida.

For Michael, he had never known physical pleasure in such an extreme. As for Ami, the act of sucking the Pastor’s dick as he strived to keep his truck on the road was its own new sexual high. He was forbidden fruit, a new unexplored taboo in her sexual pilgrimage. She loved how he tasted. The feeling of the soft rubbery head of his cock striking the back of her throat made her pussy wet enough to drench her thighs with its sticky glistening juices. She was even more aroused by his virgin-like inexperience and innocent demeanor. She had never before been so turned on by giving a blowjob. The scent of his scrotum and body wash filled her nose as she would take his shaft deep, swallowing it whole. Even the act of massaging his balls while his thick unkempt bush tickled her lips was plenty to drive her saturated mound crazy.

Using her free hand, she unfastened the button on her tight damp denim shorts. She then squeezed her hand down the front of her shorts, inserting two fingers into her slick wet hole. She began to slide her nimble digits in and out of her gooey opening while simultaneously teasing her swollen clit with her thumb. She soon realized that with her levels of excitement, that she, would climax in no time.

”I’m getting close.” Michael whispered as his right hand was guiding head up and down his cock.

Ami then raised her head from his lap, tearful red eyes looking radiantly affectionate. She again wrapped her fingers around his well-lubricated member, stroking it while she continued to finger her dripping snatch. Ami had never known such ecstasy during masturbation. She even found herself getting off at the sight of her naive chauffeur writhing in sensual agony.

”You wanna come for me, Pastor? Huh? Do you have another big load for me?” Ami teased as she was furiously pumping his shaft with one hand and aggressively fingering herself with the other.

”Yes, please. Yes.” Michael stammered, his whole body trembling.

”Tell me where you want it. My tits? Do you want to bust your nut on my slutty little Jap face, or maybe you can shoot your milk and honey right down my throat? Come on Mike, tell me how you want to paint your little slut.” Ami replied breathing heavily.

Suddenly, her entire body tensed as she let out a long bellowing moan. Michael nearly swerved off the road with the abrupt increase of speed and pressure from Ami’s tiny hand. Her petite frame convulsed powerfully causing tiny ripples in her small perky breasts. Sensing that Michael too was nearly at his limit, she practically dove back into his lap engorging his volatile organ.

No sooner than Ami was able to wrap her supple lips around the base of his dick, Michael against ejaculated. She closed her eyes tightly as she could feel wave after wave of thick cum flooding down her throat. Michael would then pull over, no longer able to competently drive with the overwhelming pleasure as he poured his seed in her greedy mouth. 

The Pastor was steadily trying to regain his breath as Ami swallowed hard, gulping down what remained of his semen. She then rose and smiled at Michael while she wiped away the spit and spunk from around her mouth. And just like that, Ami had retied her blouse before returning to her side. The rain was finally starting to clear, and the atmosphere in the cab was relaxed and quiet. Within a matter of seconds, they were moving again. It had been as if nothing happened. Ami was smoking a Camel as she watched the lines on the road whipping by.

It was then that Michael thought he saw it. He glanced back with the rearview mirror and saw Rashida grinning back at him. However, when he turned his gaze to the back seat, she was sleeping soundly. As he returned his attention to the drive ahead he couldn’t help but wonder if he had imagined seeing her awake, or was it just his mind playing tricks on him. If she was awake, then how much did she see? With all of the passion of the drive, he somehow never considered that Rashida was still in the back. At only fifteen miles from their exit, he couldn’t help but ponder what may lay ahead, and if his newfound lust for the flesh was the intention behind the divine transmission he received less than two hours earlier.

End of Part 1