Kieron didn’t want the doorbell of his apartment to ring twice. He didn’t want it to ring at all. But there it was again, independent and relentless as he hurriedly threw clothes over himself mid-shower, rushing through the steps to answer, the chime sounding like the impatient push of a postal worker’s finger.
It was so persistent that he didn’t have time to check through the peephole. He swung the door open and glared, ready to spit out a scolding at whoever was disturbing his peace.
“I wanted to talk to you about Armageddon. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but are you aware that these global issues are not just coincidence? and the end times just around the corner?” The young lady’s words blurred into the background as soon as Kieron laid eyes on her.
A black, satiny maxi skirt clung to the generous curve of her hips, stopping just above her ankles. A fitted maroon turtleneck stretched over a full bust, modest but not hidden beneath an oversized knitted sweatr. A dainty cross hung from her neck, and her cherubic face wo minimal makeup, framed by glasses that magnified her hazel eyes–eyes that locked onto him with an intensity he wasn’t prepared for.
He’d seen her before. In the shops, talking animatedly with people on the street. Kieron, normally quiet and rarely outspoken, had always been drawn to her energy. Today, his anger melted away at the sight of her, replaced by a strange awe. His shyness, as it always did, folded under the weight of confrontation.
“We can discuss more if you let me in?”
Her voice was steady, almost coating.
Kieron was awed by her perseverance, taken aback by the way this young lady–much younger than his 42 years–inserted herself into his space with such ease. An alarm began to ring in the back of his mind as she waited for his answer.
Kieron hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside, defeated. Before he could gesture for her to enter, she breezed past him, a presence that filled the room immediately, making herself comfortable in his living room.
“The layout is quite similar to mine,” she remarked, her tone now shifting as she glanced around the space.
“Do you live around here?” Kieron asked, trying to regain some control over the situation. She reached into her tote bag and pulled out a hefty book and a stack of smaller pamphlets.
“I moved in not long ago,” she said, her voice smooth, calculated. “Such a quaint little area. Souls ripe for the picking and a parish around the corner. Would you like to have a seat?”
It was absurd to be asked to sit in his own home. He had been intruded upon mid-shower and was now hosting an unwelcome guest, but something about her calm assurance made him comply. He sank onto the couch, unsure of why he wasn’t protesting more.
She perched herself on the edge of the chair, posture perfect, her long legs crossed at the ankle, the skirt riding up slightly, her smooth dark skin gleaming in the dim light. Her presence was overwhelming, intotoxicating. As she spoke, Kieron, for all his disappoint, couldn’t look away.
“This pamphlet has everything you need to know,” she said, holding one out to him, “but a little discussion, where you can ask me questions, wouldn’t hurt, would it?”
Her words were practiced, smooth as silk. She gave him a run-down of her faith, peppering it with personal anecdotes about how jehovah had helped her through trials and provided peace in moments of struggle. Kieron sat next to her meekly, almost childlike, for all his inner resistance- he absorbed her words, unable to form any protest.
It had been some time since he had been in the presence of women he found attractive, and having this young, confident lady–whom he’d developed a slight observation for during the moments he’d seen her earlier–speak to him was the most joy he’d get this week. While she spoke, he basked in her presence, in her closeness.
The way her chest rose and fall benEath the burgundy, her spicy floral perfume that wrapped around them both and clouded his judgment, her long fingers crossing and uncrossing as she talked, her back straight and shoulders relaxed in contrast to his slouchiness. She had him at rapt attention, staring at her full glossed lips as she spoke of how precious he was in the eyes of God.
“Were you raised religious? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“It’s alright, I’m Kieron.”
“Were you raised religious, Kieron?”
Her saying his name planted the first sinful seed in his mind–the agitation he felt at her intrusion, the growing anxiety of the unfamiliar conversation silicamed into a heat in his groin. Kieron shifted uncomfortable in his seat.
“I was,” he muttered, trying to push the feelings down. “But I stopped going to church before I started college. I had mentally checked out long before, though.”
The young lady studied him with an emotion akin to goal, her eyes softening as if she understoo the weight of his words. “Was there anything that happened around that time? A loss of some kind? An event that made you reconsider?”
Kieron’s thoughts scrambled. “Nothing that I can remember. Maybe our dog passed away, but… I wouldn’t chalk it up to that.”
Her gaze lingered for a moment before she reached forward, taking his hand which lay limp on his thigh, with surprise tenderness. “You have no idea how the weapon of grief has been used to dissuade believers,” she said, her voice low, soothing. “I am so incredibly sorry for your loss.”
The warmth of her hand seeing through his thin cotton trousers made Kieron question whether he had made peace with the passing of the retriever. It was ridiculous, but the intimate touch, the reassuring strokes, aroused him in ways that shamed him. He felt like a schoolboy, caught in an emotion he didn’t know how to handle.
More blood flowed to his groin, causing him to blush furiously, as though he were about to getup.
“I-I think I should’ve gotten you a cup of tea by now, I apolo–” The young lady cut him off by giving him a pat on the thigh, and though innocent, Kieron felt his member stir.
“No need,” she replied, her smile almost too knowing. “I haven’t got much time, and I would love to share more scriptures with you.”
Her hand remained on his thigh, and despite the innocent nature of her touch, the warmth spread, igniting a fire in him he couldn’t extinguish. Her proximity, the cent of her perfume, the sound of her voice–all of it clouded his judgment.
She leaned forward, reaching for her book on the coffee table. Kieron couldn’t help but notice the subtle grace in the way her body moved, the elegant curve of her back, the slight shift of her skirt as she adjusted. He felt a tightening in his chest, something murky rising inside him.
She hummed softly, scanning the pages of her Bible, a gentle purring sound that only made Kieron’s mind drift further. She turnsd back to him, her eyes glinting with something he couldn’t name.
“I find this passage in Jeremiah really helpful,” she said, thrusting the book gently towards him. “Would you like to read it?”
Kieron hesitated, his hand trembling as he reached for the book, but the moment his fingers brushed against hers, he felt a strange electricity surge through him. She held his gaze, and the unspoken notion of who lead the dance hung heavy in the air.
As Kieron was about to speak, she interrupted him “I’ll let you know when to start” as she spoke, her hand glided further across his trousers towards a part of him that called for her, fingers ran down the length of his growing erection before setting confidently around his cotton clad shake.
She pinned him down with her narrowed gaze, as she leaned in just slightly, close enough that he could smell the warmth of her breath on his face.
“Go on,” she murmured, her lips barely moving. “I’m waiting.”
Kieron swallowedhard. His throat was dry, his pulse quickening, but the young lady patiently waited for his response before she let her wrist slide up his member, a slow, deliberate movement.
Kieron usually had trouble getting words out, but he faced extra difficulty with saying the first short line, he would get a phrase or two out before a moan escaped his lips, at which the young lady, now studying him as though he were the most fascinating thing in the room, would pause until he collected himself before she would ask him to try again.
He was glad that he was sat, knowing that the shock of what was happening would probably cause his legs to weaken. The fleeting fantasy had been plucked from the air and materialised into reality, and Kieron would be as crude as to call it a miracle were he not ashamed at being caught in such a vulnerable circumstances.
He was overwhelmed. Highly aroused and confused, he found himself trying again and again to recite the passage but would reach a point where she would stroke him, and he’d forget the damned passage in order to focus on the sensing, and the young lady would stop.
Desperate, Kieron grit the passage out of his teeth to the young lady’s satisfaction, because she continued to jerk him expertly through his trousers, even when he had false, but just when Kieron was slipping further into her rhythm, she pulled her hands away, took the bible away from his clutch and placed it on the table.
He opened his eyes and fixed the young lady with what would’ve been a frantic and desperate star.
‘Please don’t go-‘ his words hung heavy in the air. The lady chuckled slowly and shook her head. Anyone in Kieron’s position would beg, only a select few however, could convey the complete and utter desperation. She saw it. Swimming in his glossy eyes, written across his forehead, dripping off his lips. How could she resist?
‘I’m afraid I have a lot more plans for you’ the young lady said, placing her belongingsCarefully inside her tote. She stood then to her full height, back straightened, staring down at Kieron.
The most exquisite thing about a man is his ability to lose himself in worship of the divine feminine. It’s in the way he dissolves his own identity to reflect her power, finds his purpose only in what he can offer her. There is nothing more compelling than watching him offer everything, knowing he’ll never be whole Without her.
Kieron’s breath hitched as she stood, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. His voice broke as he reached for her, dropping to his knees, his trembling hands clutching at her legs.
“Please… don’t go,” he whispered, his words raw with desperation.
She paused, looking down at him with a mix of amusement and quiet triumph. The corners of her mouth lifted into a serene smile as she reached out and patted his head gently, as one might a loyal dog.
“Good boy,” she murmured, her tone soft but resolve. “But I must. Moresouls to save” and many more to damn
And with that, she turned and left, the echo of her footsteps fading as Kieron remained where he was, his world newly unmoored, longing for her return.
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