That Sunday, Nini was excited about her look. Her long hair was a weave, sewn and cut into a fringe. Her complexion had a yellow hue to it, slightly baked with makeup and a shade away from her fair skin. Her black dress was short, but not too short, tight and just a little above her knees exactly where she wanted it. Her stiletto heels was pain to her ankles as she stood by the door for about an hour but she bore the pain for the sake of fashion and glam. She had the tag that read “USHER” clipped to the left side of her upper chest. It was her duty to welcome members and visitors into the household of God with a pleasing smile on her face. She met them all; old and young, happy and moody, neat and ratchet, clumsy and cocky. They passed through her door and she handed them the church bulletin and found them a seat without judgment.
Atanda was in the rear end, in the left corner of the church auditorium to supply melodious beats to the choir’s praise songs through his talking drum. His beats were to make the congregation bask and revel in the sweetness of Jesus and his endless love. He had to wear the same color as the rest of the choir members, red and black, shirt and jeans, too casual and not his style. He would have loved to wear the Dashiki his mom just brought from Nigeria. He had had to cut down his hair, a tall fro-hawk a day before because the pastor had said something about his hairstyle the Sunday before. His ears still held the studs Pastor Toro’s wife did not like, and those tiny jewels splashed silver light against the gold chain around his neck.
The service began, opening prayer, worship, praise, intercessory prayer, announcements then tithes and offering. The choirmaster led the praise songs, the other choristers sang along and the congregation danced. Atanda’s talking drum spoke to them and Nini’s offering basket asked that they dip their hands into their pockets and purses and bless the glory of the Lord with what they have and ten percent of what they earned. Offering time was indeed blessing time. Pastor Toro signaled to the choir master, he halted the music and Atanda retired from his drum. Nini came forward with the basket and Pastor Toro said a prayer. In between the prayer, Atanda saw Nini with her curves straining against the fabric of her tight dress, her hips as it swayed maliciously as she approached the pulpit. Her legs, straight, long and sexy teased him in the face. He winked at her and she smiled slightly and took the offering basket from Pastor Toro before retiring to go count how much the church has been blessed with.
He began to think of her, of the last time he had her mouth on his dick. His mind wandered to the last time he had had his hands around her head as she swallowed him. He remembered very well how he had moaned with pleasure.
“How sweet is your sin?” Pastor Toro asked the congregation.
“Very sweet” Atanda thought as he fondled with the drumsticks and more thoughts of Nini’s supple breasts and how they tasted flooded his mind and vision. They tasted sweet, not like sugar, more like honey, natural and fresh, friendly to his lips, fire to his body.
“How sweet is your sin?” Pastor Toro asked again.
“Very sweet” Nini thought as flashbacks of Atanda thrusting in and out of her came to mind. She almost moaned again, at the memory of pleasure of that night, as his hands rubbed her butt, one finger thrusting in and out of her, his eyes looking into hers. That moment had felt great.
“Open your bible to the book of Romans, Chapter six verses 23” Pastor Toro instructed. Atanda read along with the lady in the congregation that read aloud.
”For the wages of sin is death and the gift of God is eternal life,”
“How could Nini’s delicious body be sin?” he asked himself.
“The wages of sin is death,” Pastor Toro reiterated emphatically. Nini stopped thinking of Atanda’s hand squeezing her butts for a second. The word death caught her attention.
“How could that be sin? And the wages of that kind of sin is death? She felt quite the opposite, Atanda in her, on her made, her feel alive.
“The book of Colossians 3:5 says put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry” Pastor Toro read from the New International Version. Atanda stopped listening to Pastor Toro’s message; he turned to Facebook for distraction. Yet his thoughts hung around the last words he heard, “sexual immorality, impurity, lust”.
“It is more of showing Nini some love. Good loving. I love Nini,” he tried to persuade himself. If he called it love and believed it, saw it as more than just getting some ass, more than the squeals of pleasure and moans, it would make it less of a sin. More of two children of God showing love to each other. He did not succeed, even if it was love, he knew fornication was a sin too. His guilt hung around for another second before the newsfeed on his Facebook created the distraction he needed.
“Sin is sin. Sex with Atanda is one of my many sins. I am not ready to quit. The Lord will have mercy upon those he will have mercy upon,” she thought when she remembered the portion of the bible verse that said “the wages of sin is death.” She focused on counting the money in the offering basket and dismissed guilt and all thoughts of Atanda and the sweet sin he brought.
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