Chapter 3
When Melinda arrived home, Sarah Perkins was seated alone in the living room, sewing. The opportunity was perfect for Melinda to report the lascivious conduct of Sarah's husband. But thinking over what Ed had told her, Melinda merely greeted the older woman and went to her room.
Ed had made Melinda realize she had misjudged the intentions of the men who had visited the schoolhouse that morning. She concluded that her instincts weren't reliable in dealing with the people of Horner's Hollow; she might even unwittingly have encouraged Reverend Perkins to treat her as he had.
She would have to try harder to understand the local people, Melinda resolved. Making waves wouldn't help.
The atmosphere at dinner was reserved. Mrs. Perkins was no friendlier than she had been that morning. The preacher kept watching Melinda, but said little. Matt watched Melinda also, and she detected a lust in his young eyes that matched his father's.
Due to its remote location, Horner's Hollow had no television. After dinner the preacher invited Melinda to join his family in the living room to listen to their old-fashioned console radio, but she declined. She went directly to her room and undressed. After slipping into a robe, she went to the bathroom and tried to relax in a warm tub. But she remained edgy.
Later, in bed, she was unable to fall asleep. Her nerves were taut, and she worried about all that had happened during the last two days. Her teaching career had gotten off to a very shaky start. Everything about her situation distressed her.
Melinda rolled and tossed on the uncomfortable mattress, eventually settling on her stomach close to the knotty pine wall. Sheer fatigue finally made her drowsy. Just as she was about to fall asleep, a sound from the other side of the wall startled her. Bedsprings in the preacher's room had creaked loudly.
Melinda opened her eyes and found herself facing a small circle of light. It was a knothole in the wall, just large enough to look through. She had never peeped at anyone in her life and considered it morally wrong to do so. But when the bedsprings in the other room creaked a second time, Melinda couldn't resist putting her eye to the knothole--to take just one quick look, she told herself.
The preacher's iron four-poster bed was at the opposite side of his bedroom. His wife was lying in it, covered to her chin. A lamp glowed beside the bed. Perkins entered the room and, standing in full view of Melinda, took off his robe. His total nakedness made Melinda gasp.
The preacher's prick hung in front of his dangling, hairy balls like a thick Manila rope with a large knot at its end. The gaunt, bald man approached the bed, his long cock swaying. His wife watched the organ as if hypnotized by its pendulum motion.
Perkins pulled out a drawer in the night table and removed a bottle which he uncorked. As he tilted the bottle to his lips, Sarah looked the other way. Perkins placed the uncorked flask on the nightstand, then took hold of the bedclothes and stripped them all the way down. Sarah was covered from neck to ankles by a loose-fitting cotton gown.
"Can't you find something more appealing than that to wear in bed?" Perkins complained, his voice coming clearly through the thin wall. "The Sears Roebuck catalog must have something better to offer."
"It's sinful to adorn the body," Sarah said.
"Bullshit!" Perkins replied. "You're in my bedroom, not in church."
Melinda was amazed by his attitude. She had gained the impression that the preacher was afraid of his wife and carefully concealed his true nature from her, but this appeared to be untrue.
"Take the ugly thing off," Perkins ordered, pointing at Sarah's nightgown.
She quickly complied, exposing her thick thighs, rounded belly, and huge breasts. When she lay back, her tits shook like silken sacks of pudding.
As Melinda continued to stare through the knothole, heart pounding, Perkins gave her a new shock by swinging astride his wife, settling on her thick waist. His bony fingers gripped as much of her milk-white breasts as he could hold, and he lifted them as he squeezed. Perkins wiggled forward, laying his cock between the copious mounds.
Kneading Sarah's soft tits like gobs of baker's dough, the preacher worked them along the length of his penis and over the top of the organ. He grunted as he stared down at her, his lips pulled tight.
Sarah's eyes were closed. She remained motionless. Melinda imagined how disgusted she must feel. Melinda was disgusted, also-but aroused. Unconsciously she began to writhe against the mattress, stimulating her clitoris which had turned hard.
When Perkins released his wife's breasts, letting them flop to the sides, his prick was revealed in full erection. The eight-inch organ sprang up from Sarah's mammary vale, its purplish knob swollen.
Perkins grasped his wife around the back of the head and tilted her head up. Her eyes popped open, and she stared at his prick, inches in front of her face.
"Take it," he ordered.
Melinda was shocked to the tips of her toes as the preacher sprawled forward against the head structure of the iron bed and his wife grasped his rigid organ, aiming its huge head into her open mouth. Sarah sucked on the meaty glans, her cheeks alternately hollowing and puffing, her throat muscles working. Perkins began to move his hips up and down, stroking his iron-hard shaft through the pale-pink circle of Sarah's wide-stretched lips.
Melinda had never seen anything so revolting. She imagined how awful the penis must taste, and she nearly became ill. But her cunt grew all the hotter, moistening the bedsheet as she ground her hips, pressing her tingling clit against the firm mattress. Heightening throbs of passion traveled through her.
It had become evident that Sarah wasn't repulsed by the preacher's lewd treatment. As difficult as this was for Melinda to accept, Sarah appeared actually to enjoy the degradation. She acted the pious woman and Perkins treated her with attentive concern outside their bedroom, but closed off from the world, when they were intimate, they became different people.
Preacher Perkins slowly stroked his cock in and out of his wife's mouth, and she sucked it avidly. Melinda watched as best she could while writhing next to the wall. Suddenly Perkins backed up, pulling his prick from Sarah's mouth with a sucking Pop. He scrambled backward and settled between Sarah's thighs, his upraised cock bobbing as if it were suspended on a rubber string. Its immense bald head gleamed with Sarah's saliva.
"Fuck me .. . fuck me!" Sarah passionately demanded.
"I'll fuck you, you hot bitch!" Perkins grated as he wrapped his arms around her heavy thighs and boosted them straight up.
Melinda watched his evil prick nose its way into the elliptical, rosy crevice in his wife's brown pubic bush. His rod sank inch by inch into Sarah's juice-exuding cunt until it was completely swallowed up. Perkins's drawn-up balls bumped the hairy rim of Sarah's pussy.
He began to pump, giving Sarah all eight inches of his steel-stiff rod on every stroke. Melinda's mouth hung open as she watched the brutal penis pull way back, then drive completely into the plump, writhing woman. Sarah's big breasts shook. She panted and moaned. She rhythmically bumped her tilted pussy against her husband's fucking thrusts.
Melinda ground her cunt harder against the bed. By now she was aware of what she was doing, and she wanted desperately to complete it. She had to. The stimulation she was receiving from the mattress wasn't sufficient to bring her to a climax, and she worked a hand into the flimsy panties of her babydoll outfit. While continuing to writhe, maintaining a partial contact between her pussy and the mattress, Melinda stuck two fingers up her hot, swamp-like cunt and diddled herself with abandon. She had been forced to adopt this technique after her unrewarding dates with Harry.
Through the knothole, which wavered before her eyes, Melinda watched Perkins drop his wife's thick legs and fall forward to grind his prick in her fat, heaving belly with accelerated speed. Melinda heard the slap of flesh against flesh and the juicy sloshing of cock in vagina as the frenzied pair strove to their climax, panting and moaning. Their bed creaked loudly. Its casters jittered against the thinly carpeted floor.
Melinda's fingers danced in her butter-slick hole. Her other hand gripped a tit and squeezed the sensitive, springy-firm mass. She writhed. The mouth of her pussy contracted spastically around her stroking fingers. The depths of her vagina palpitated. Heat spread through her in a rushing wave, and suddenly all tension let go and she gave a gurgling sigh.
She had lost her view of the couple in the next room as she experienced her own climax. When she next looked through the knothole, Reverend Perkins was climbing off his wife. His cock swung soft and long. It was very red and gleamed with the moisture from Sarah's cunt.
The plump woman closed her legs and faced the wall. Perkins lifted his bottle from the night table and tilted it to his lips.
Relaxed but not deeply satisfied, Melinda turned her back to the knothole. In less than a minute she was asleep.
The children were frolicking about the schoolhouse when Melinda arrived the next morning to convene the class. Their fathers weren't on hand. It took Melinda ten minutes to get the children quieted down and into their seats.
She decided to dispense with the roll and immediately put the students to work. Order reigned for a while. But within half an hour Jasper, Luke and some of the other older boys provoked a disturbance.
Melinda stood and pounded on her desk until order finally was restored. She managed to keep the children fairly quiet for the balance of the morning.
When she went home for lunch, Reverend Perkins again was alone in the house. Sarah apparently made it a practice to do her shopping or gossiping during the middle of the day, and Melinda had learned that Matt was employed on a nearby farm.
The young woman was reluctant to face Preacher Perkins alone after watching him abuse his wife the night before. Also, Melinda suffered guilt over her masturbation, and she blamed herself for spying on the Perkinses. But when the preacher stopped her in the living room and asked her to sit down, she decided she shouldn't refuse to talk with him. She concluded that the better they understood each other, the better she would get along.
Seating herself on the overstuffed sofa, Melinda crossed her tanned legs. Perkins slouched in a chair across from her and openly eyed the lovely display. My legs must look good to him after living with fat, homely Sarah for twenty years, Melinda thought, feeling a forbidden satisfaction.
"My dear ..." Perkins began, his voice smooth and slippery as oil, "have you been thinking about what I told you the other day? I stand ready to help you in any way I can."
Then just leave me alone, Melinda wanted to reply. But she took a grip on herself and said coolly, "I appreciate that, Reverend Perkins."
"Please. We needn't be formal. Call me Clem, and I will call you Melinda."
"If you wish." She wondered what he was leading up to.
"Not only can I make things easier for you here in Horner's Hollow, but you might give some consideration to the future. You won't be here forever.. . and neither will I." Perkins paused to let that sink in.
"Are you planning on leaving town?" Melinda asked.
The preacher smiled wisely. "I am an itinerate person by nature. My son and I have been here for two years, which is nearly long enough. There are other pastures, other places to do the Lord's work . .. and my own."
Melinda's eyes narrowed. "Matt isn't Mrs. Perkins's son?"
"Oh, no. I married her after Matt and I moved here. There was, uh, some unpleasantness in Georgia. We needed a place to hole-up for a while. This seemed a likely spot. And Sarah, bless her simple soul, was in need of a man."
This revelation cast the preacher in a new light. But Melinda didn't indicate a response.
Perkins's gaze stroked like a paintbrush up and down her thighs as he continued. "I am not a poor man, Melinda. This community has been good to me. When I leave, I will not go empty-handed." He raised his eyes to her face. "I have always wanted someone like you. I could make you happy. You wouldn't have to teach school any longer. We could live anywhere--Florida, California, even Hawaii."
The proposition surprised Melinda, but she found nothing of interest in it. "You shouldn't be talking to me this way," she said.
"Because of Sarah?" Perkins chuckled. "If you were to repeat this to her, she wouldn't believe it."
He turned serious again. "I would advise you to give the matter some careful thought. There isn't a great deal of time."
"I'm not interested," Melinda said bluntly. "But I hope we can get along while we're sharing the same house."
"So do I," Perkins replied, his eyes probing the neckline of her dress. "For instance, we could go to your room right now. Sarah won't return for a while."
Melinda uncrossed her legs and stood. "That isn't what I meant, and you know it. Now if you'll excuse me ... "
Perkins didn't say anything as Melinda left the room. She could feel his eyes on her twisting buttocks, and a little thrill traveled through her.
His remarks had given her something new to think about, but that was all. He was more unappealing to her than ever, now that she knew what a complete hypocrite he was.
That night Melinda wedged a chair under her doorknob before going to bed, as she had done the night before. She had plugged a wad of facial tissue into the knothole in the wall before arising that morning, and the plug was still in place.
As Melinda lay in the dark, waiting for sleep to come, she reviewed what Reverend Perkins had told her. Poor Sarah, she thought. She was in for a rude awakening. But she would be better off in the long run without Perkins, Melinda believed.
Her thoughts turned to Ed, and Melinda wished he would hurry back from his trip. It wasn't that she cared for his company, she assured herself, but he could help her control the schoolchildren.
She felt lonely and vulnerable.