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For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

This is a revised version of the story that I published on Smashword starting back in 2014. It is rewritten with much-added material. However, I did have to age up some of the characters so no one is underage in this version.

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Click here for Chapter 4.

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Sunday, September 15th, 2013 – Paris, Texas

The joyful noise bled through the walls of the tent. It was the home of the Paris Revival for Christ.

I think they were an offshoot of the Pentecostals. My pa, a fire-and-brimstone Baptist preacher, never respected the Pentecostals. “They lack decorum, boy,” he’d say. “No restraint. Always shoutin’ and carryin’ on like a bunch of hell-bound fools.”

From what I’d heard, the Revival for Christ made regular Pentecostals seem as staid as any Baptist matron.

The Revival met in a large tent that was striped red and yellow. It was the type of tent you’d see at a circus. They pitched it on an empty lot at the outskirts of town. It had been there for the last five years; an ugly eyesore to the expensive neighborhood built up the street. A sign out front read:

Paris Revival for Christ

Reverend Merrywether Roberts

First Lady Happy Roberts

I fixated on Happy Roberts name—the Reverend’s prudish wife. She’d once tried to get me banned from the library for surfing some harmless porn. The prissy bitch didn’t give one flying fuck about my Constitutional rights to free speech in a public building.

It was time to teach her a lesson.

I gave my pecker a few strokes, picturing the look on her face when my slab of iron taught her a lesson. Happy Roberts was horribly misnamed. I reckon she’d never smiled in her life. Probably because of the stick shoved deep up her ass. Maybe I could change that. I could pull that stick from her ass and replace it with my cock. I’d give her a nice, hard cum.

I very much doubt even the world’s greatest orgasm could put a smile on her face.

I slipped into the canvas tent. The joyful noise washed over me like a heavy surf. There were maybe fifty or sixty people in it, all standing up in a circle around the Reverend. He stood on a raised platform, moving in around it. He was an iron-faced man in black robes, his arms held high, leading them in song. They clapped and jumped and shook like the Holy Spirit was upon them. Some babbled incoherently.

I reckoned they were speaking in tongues, though it sounded like horseshit to me.

I spotted Happy. Her curly, dark-brown hair swayed about her shoulders as she moved to the music, a look of worshipful ecstasy painted on her face. Imagine that, the prude could smile. Her face was actually pretty when she wasn’t frowning. She looked a youthful thirty now, ecstasy melting away the years. My dick throbbed, her figure sleek beneath a long, floral skirt and modest white blouse.

I pushed my way through the crowd.

None seemed to notice. Or maybe they didn’t care, chalking it up to God and thinking that his invisible hand pushed them to the side. They were all lost to their worship, carrying on in a way that would make my pa rain hellfire on them from his pulpit.

I didn’t care. I was just horny.

I reached Happy. Perspiration dotted her flushed face. It was sweltering in the tent. The pathetic AC chugging away didn’t seem to do a damned thing. The reverend launched into another hymn, one I vaguely remembered from my childhood sitting in my pa’s church bored as a coonhound too old to hunt. Come All Ye Faithful, I reckoned the song was called.

“O come, let us adore you,” sang the congregation.

I smirked; someone was definitely going to cum.

I knelt before Happy and pushed up her skirt. I grinned, scooching between her legs. She froze as she felt my hands sliding up her thighs. I stroked up her silky skin to her panties she wore. My dick throbbed hard.

I loved panties. It was always fun wondering what kind a girl wore before I’d peep up their skirt to find out. That thrill was one of my great passions. I was excited to see what sort of panties a prude like Happy would wear.

Probably boring granny-panties, ugly and baggy.

It was dark beneath her skirt, but enough light passed through the fabric for me to make out dark panties clinging to her pussy. They had a narrow gusset, to my surprise, but not a thong. More a bikini-cut. And trimmed in lace.

How naughty.

I nuzzled against the crotch of her panties, inhaling her musk. A thrill ran through me as the reverend’s wife trembled. My hands gripped her hips as her spicy bled through, a flavor that had me aching to feast.

“Oh sing, all ye citizens of heaven above!” sang the church.

Happy’s crotch wasn’t heaven, but it sure smelled heavenly.

“The Holy Ghost has come upon me!” she shouted as my nose rubbed against her pussy. “Sweet Jesus, thank you!”

I chuckled. Since I sold my soul for the power of invisibility, I liked to think of myself as a ghost. But I definitely wasn’t holy. There was nothing holy about what I planned to do to Happy.

I took another inhalation of her spicy delight before I hooked her panties to the side and pulled the gusset away from her pussy, exposing her dark bush. My mouth watered at the sight before me, her aroma filling my nose. My touch was already turning her on.

Another wish I’d made ensured the women I molested enjoyed what I did to them.

Hungry to enjoy the reverend’s wife, I licked through her married pussy. My tongue gathered up her spicy musk. The flavor melted on my tongue. She spasmed, her thighs flexing beneath my grip. A low, throaty moan escaped her lips.

“Thank you, God, for sendin’ your Holy Ghost to me!” gasped Happy. “Amen!”

I didn’t have a lot of experience munching on a woman’s carpet, but I had watched enough porn to know my way around. I lapped up her slit, my tongue flicking up and down her folds. I brushed her clit, making her gasp and shudder.

Her thick bush tickled my cheeks as I feasted on her. More and more of her juices poured into my mouth as my tongue fluttered up and down her folds. Her spicy cream coated my lips and ran down my cheeks. It was so hot to feast on her while the congregation, and her husband, had no idea.

Her hips shook and writhed. She ground her juicy cunt on my hungry mouth. She moaned louder and louder then gasped when I jammed my tongue deep into her married cunt. Her silky sheath squeezed around it as she trembled.

The singing died.

Happy’s passionate moans echoed through the tent. “Oh, yes! The Holy Ghost is fillin’ me with God’s Love!” she moaned. “Oh, Sweet Jesus, yes! Keep touchin’ me! Oh, praise the Lord!”

“Amens!” and, “Praise the Lords!” resounded through the tent.

Her juices poured into my mouth. My pecker throbbed harder and harder as I kept feasting on her. My tongue darted through her folds. My right hand slid up her thigh, my finger nuzzling through her bush as I feasted on her.

She groaned as I stroked her hot folds with my digit. Then I jammed my finger in her while my tongue fluttered against her labia. My pecker ached as my finger slid deeper and deeper into the silky depths of her juicy cooch.

“Yes, yes, yes! I’m bein’ filled with the Holy Ghost!” howled the naughty reverend’s wife, her cunt clenching down around my digit.

It was so hot. They all thought her possessed. I could feel them staring at her as I nibbled up her labia to her clit. I sucked on her bud. Her pussy squeezed down on my finger over and over. She gasped again, her hips undulating.

I pumped my finger in and out of that cooch, my dick eager to bury into her. My clit swirled around her bud as her body trembled. The way she moaned, I could hear her building towards her orgasm. It was going to explode through her.

“Fill me up more!” she moaned. “I need to feel more of you, Holy Ghost!”

What a whore. I obliged her, however, and jammed a second finger inside her snatch. Her pussy clenched down on it. She bucked as I thrust my two digits in and out of her juicy depths, stirring up the reverend wife in the middle of the revival.

“Oh, yes!” she panted, her juicy pussy squeezing and relaxing on my fingers. “The Holy Ghost is fillin’ me up! Mmm, keep feelin’ me up, Lord! I’m so close to bein’ one with you! Just a little more!”

“Fill her up, Lord!” someone shouted.

I slipped a third finger inside her cooch. I jammed all three deep in her, stretching her out. She bucked, pulling her clit away from my lips. Her pussy writhed about my fingers. Juices gushed out of her.

“Praise Jesus!” she screamed as she came.

Her cunt spasmed and writhed on my digits as she orgasmed in the middle of her church. Her husband had to be watching her climax like a naughty slut. I loved it, licking up her spicy juices as they gushed out of her married snatch.

“Yes, yes!” she moaned. “Praise the Lord! Hallelujah, Praise Jesus!”

“Praise the Lords!” and, “Hallelujahs!” chorused throughout the tent.

It was too much for her. My pecker had to be in her. I ripped my head from beneath her skirt and rose, my fingers still buried in her convulsing cunt. I grinned at what I saw. The congregation had formed a circle around us, watching her with awe.

Happy shuddered. She threw a look over her shoulder, her face flushed, her sweat-damp hair clinging to her temples. Gracing her lips was the hugest grin I had ever seen on a woman. She was in heaven.

“God is with us!” her husband boomed.

“Amens!” and, “Praise the Lords!” answered him.

He raised his hands up high, exulting, “Sister Happy has been blessed with His presence!”

“Yes, I have, Brother Merrywether!” she breathed, her cooch squeezing down on my three fingers still buried in her heavenly cunt. “Praise Jesus!”

“Praise Jesus!” her husband answered back.

“Phew, I need a breath of fresh air,” Happy panted, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Maybe the spirit will come on me again, or maybe not, but… just need a few minutes.”

“Of course,” nodded her husband. “Let us thank God for sending his Ghost upon us.” The Reverend lifted his arms to the sky.

I chuckled, never thinking a husband would thank God for being cuckolded.

Happy broke away from me, her pussy slipping off my fingers. She was aching for more, and my pecker throbbed to enjoy her. I followed Happy as the worshipers parted before her. Once she left the tent, she raced to a black sedan—it was a few years old with a dent in one fender—and leaned against it, breathing heavily.

I sauntered to her and brushed a strand of hair that stuck to her face.

She shivered, smiling. “I hoped you’d follow me.”

I answered by kissing her lips, my mouth still drenched in her spicy cream. Her tongue was eager, tasting her own juices on my face as she passionately moaned. She whimpered as she clutched to me, squirming against the car as she kissed me with such passion.

Her hands explored my naked body, caressing up and down my chest as she moaned into our kiss. I grunted when she found my hard pecker. Her hand wrapped about it. she stroked it while a wanton moan escaped her lips.

She broke the kiss, her eyes sparkling. “Now you ain’t the Holy Ghost, are you?” she asked, smiling like she’d just won the lotto as she stroked my slab of iron. “The Lord Almighty would never have made me cum!”

“No,” I answered. “I’m the Ghost of Paris, and I molest only the most purtee girls and women.”

“You think I’m purtee?” she asked. There was a direct, predatory tone to her voice. Lust brimmed in her hazel eyes.

“Abso-damn-fuckin’-lutely, sweetness! You’re as purtee as a debutante at her first ball! And as wanton as a cheerleader on homecomin’.”

She giggled wickedly. “I could use a good fuckin’.” She opened the back door of the car. With lithe ease, she stretched out on the seat, her legs spread wide. She reached under her skirt and pulled off her panties. I took them from her, loving that they were black and lacy.

“Hot damn, you’re just full of surprises. Like one of them scratch lotto tickets!” I hooted before I inhaled her intoxicating, spicy scent.

“Come and get me, Ghost,” she moaned, her body writhing, her skirt sliding down her thighs, threatening to reveal that married pussy I just devoured.

I crawled in into the sedan after her. “You’re purtee naughty for a reverend’s wife.”

“Well, if the Reverend could be bothered to fuck me more than once a month…” She trailed off, shrugging. “A girl’s got needs, and there are plenty of men willin’ to scratch ’em.”

I settled between her thighs and pushed up her skirt. What a shocking revelation to learn about Happy. She was such a naughty thing. She let out a moan as I rubbed my invisible pecker on her wet cooch, her silky juices coated me.

She whimpered, making such wanton sounds as my dick nudged up her folds, her soft pubic hair caressing the edges of my dick. I found her entrance and I sank into her. She moaned as my cock slid deeper and deeper into her, wondrous friction massaging the tip. She was wet, a little tight, and hot as a griddle.

“You got one nice cooch, sweetness!” I panted.

“Good!” she moaned. “Mmm, you got a nice pecker yourself.”

“I reckon I do at that,” I said, grinning at her. Not that she could see me smiling.

“Fuck me, Ghost! Don’t just leave your dick in me. I need it bad! You got me so excited down there, I’m ’bout ready to explode!”

“Yes, ma’am,” I grunted.

I fucked her cooch.

I pumped my dick in and out of her as she shuddered on the back seat of the car. Its shocks squeaked and moaned as I plowed into her. It mixed with her gasps and groans. Her hips writhed, matching my thrusts.

I leaned down and kissed her hot mouth. She whimpered in delight, her tongue brushing my lips like she was eager to taste her juices on my lips. Then she broke the kiss, her tongue exploring about my face, gathering every last drop.

“You a muff diver, too, sweetness?” I asked, slamming into me.

“Lord, yes!” she moaned. “Me and Sister Franny go down on each other all the time. Her husband’s ‘nother man that don’t know what to do with his wife in the bedroom!”

“Is she hot?” I asked, my dick throbbing in Happy’s married cooch. What a wicked turn of events.

“Drop-dead, fuckin’ gorgeous!” Happy panted, stirring her pussy around my pecker as I plowed into her. “She’s young with fiery-red hair.” A naughty grin filled her face. “She’s got a wonderful case of fire crotch! I love to bury my face in her tasty snatch and rub those curly, red pubes on my cheeks!”

“Hot damn!” I moaned, thrusting harder into her, my balls smacking into her taint. “I think she needs to meet me!”

“Maybe!” she moaned.

This was so incredible. Happy Weathers, the reverend wife, was an utter whore. I savored pumping in and out of her sweet cooch. Her hot flesh wrapped about me, gripping me. My dick throbbed in her, my balls tightening.

She shuddered beneath me, her thighs locked about my waist. She bucked into my thrusts, her snatch squeezing around my pecker. She increased the friction, making her pussy feel amazing about my cock. Every thrust brought me closer and closer to erupting in her.

“Oh, sweet Jesus, fuck me harder!” she panted. “Your cock feels amazin’ in me! God, yes! You fuck as well as Brother Brett! Pound my snatch! Make me cum!”

“Hell fuckin’ yea, I’ll pound your snatch, sweetness!”

I obliged her and slammed my cock into her delicious depths. The car rocked and creaked with the vigor of our fucking. Her snatch grew hot and juicy around me as she gasped and moaned. She clung to me as I fucked her with all my might.

Her passion sang out as I fucked her. Her fingernails raked my back and ass, painting lines of burning passion across my flesh. My balls grew tighter and tighter. Her pants were so sweet. The reverend’s wife shuddered beneath me, her eyes rolling back in her head.

Then she let out a loud shriek. “Sweet Jesus, yes!”

Her cooch spasmed about my pecker. She cursed and bucked like a wild filly trying to throw her rider. I groaned, slamming into her, feeling her juicy snatch writhing about my cock. My balls smacked into her as I drilled into her cumming snatch.

“Sweet, fuckin’ Jesus!” she groaned. “Praise God for sendin’ me this wonderful cock!”

“Gonna cum in your fuckin’ tight cooch, sweetness!” I moaned, pounding her cunt.

“Cum in me!” she groaned. “Give me another bastard! Knock me up! Yes, yes!”

The thought of knocking this slut up, and her husband having no clue the child wasn’t his, went straight to my balls. I buried into her. They smacked into her flesh with a meaty thwack. Her pussy writhed about my cock, sucking at it, so hungry for my jizz.

I growled as my jizz erupted from my cock.

Pleasure shot through me as I unloaded what felt like the largest blast of cum I ever shot. My jizz fired straight to her womb. Her pussy writhed about me, spasming harder. She gasped and moaned as I basted her cunt in my spunk.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she moaned. “Breed me!” she hissed. “Pump me full of all that baby-makin’ cream!”

“Hot damn!” I groaned as her pussy milked my pecker dry.

I collapsed on her, panting as my orgasm peaked in me. My body buzzed from the bliss of spurting into her hot snatch. She whimpered beneath me, her pussy’s spasming dying. Her eyes fluttered. Then a big smile crossed her lips.

What a great fuck.

“Another bastard, huh?” I asked after catching my breath.

“Neither of my kids are his.” She giggled and winked at me. “He’s none too good at doin’ the math. I really sweated on the last one. I wasn’t sure if the father was this Black plumber I fucked or Brother Brett. Luckily, it was Brother Brett. Don’t know how I woulda explained to my husband why our daughter was Black.”

I never thought in a coon’s age that the seemingly prudish reverend’s wife was actually one of the biggest sluts I’d ever met. I guess you never know what sort of pervert is lurking beneath the skin. When she made that stink about me viewing porn in the library, it must have all been an act. She’d just been pretending to be the straitlaced reverend’s wife, when she probably wanted to sit on my lap and stare at those pretty, young things with me.

I pulled out of her snatch, shaking my head in delight. She rolled down all the windows after pulling on her panties. “The car needs to air out.” She smiled in my general direction. “Wouldn’t do for my husband to get suspicious.”

“What about the stain?” I asked; a large puddle of pussy juices and cum was slowly being absorbed by the gray fabric of the back seat.

She swiped a finger through the gunk and licked it off. “The kids are always spillin’ back here.”

“Well, I reckon I’ll be back next Sunday,” I told her.

“I’m lookin’ forward to the Holy Ghost cummin’ upon me again!” she purred, a twinkle in her hazel eyes.

“Abso-damn-fuckin’-lutely, sweetness! I’ll be here every Sunday, enjoyin’ that sweet cooch!”

I loved my wish. I was so glad I sold my soul.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 6.

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