The Preacher's Son

The Preacher's Son

by Jingjok

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WARNING: The following material contains depictions of explicit sexual activity between teenagers. If the laws of your jurisdiction do not permit you to view such material, please leave here at once and go where you can learn how to work to change the laws of your jurisdiction. If you are offended by such material, please seek psychiatric counseling to discuss why you are here in the first place.

On the other hand, if you simply don't care for the type of material indicated by the story codes, well, have a nice day.

bisexual, highschool, historical, interracial, teen mmf speculation of gay possible incest is a theme

DISCLAIMER: The following is entirely a work of fiction. Resemblance to any actual person or place is purely coincidental. All of the parts in this drama are portrayed by mature actors who are masters of makeup and disguise.

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A Small Town in Ohio - 1924

Chapter 1

Powell Blair was on a mission. He chuckled at that thought. His sire, Reverend Arthur Blair, was a famous missionary preacher, but the son's goals were far different from the father's. Powell was in search of a vision. Well, a sighting, at least, of the family's young servant girl, in the nude.

Cassie was just fourteen, a year younger than Powell, but her womanly charms had bloomed early. Her simple white dress set off the perfection of her flawless chocolate skin. As the young girl went about her duties, Powell would try to position himself where he could watch her pass in front of a window, so the light would reveal the shape of her dark figure through the thin material.

Cassie's ample, perky breasts pushed out the front of her garment as she moved. When she was dusting downstairs, Powell would point out places where she would have to stretch upward to clean. In the process, Cassie's assets were displayed more prominently. These charms were accented all the more as Cassie's rounded buttocks pulled her dress tighter over her chest.

If she were his sister, the preacher's boy knew that his parents would have smothered her breasts with undergarments. But a servant girl was not an object of their concern, and their son's interest in the ever changing firmness of the girl's nipples went unnoticed.

Powell had managed to avoid accompanying his parents in the car to the railroad station to wait for the train of President Coolidge. Then he had looked for something to occupy his time. Powell had walked past the kitchen and heard the girl tell her mother, the cook, that she was through with her tasks, and was going to wash the sweat from her body and take a nap.

Cassie's perspiration was a subject of excitement for Powell. The sheen of moisture on her skin as she labored enhanced her exotic beauty. The preacher's son had often imagined himself licking the sweat from her body, as he lay in bed at night flailing his hard cock to eruption.

On such occasions, he would wipe the creamy fluid from his belly with his soft cotton drawers. In the morning, he would summon the young servant girl to take them away for washing. He hoped the stain of his semen would arouse the girl's passion. He never knew it was a subject of amusement for the girl and her older brother.

Powell had carefully reconnoitered the servants' bathing room, and was confident he could stand, unobserved, outside the slatted shutter that covered a small window. His station would be at an inner corner of the house, protected from the sun, and darkened further by a large tree nearby. He would be unseen from inside, while the room and its occupant would be brightly lit by a long window, high on the outer wall.

The servants' bath was simple, without plumbing. Beneath Powell's viewing window stood a water tank, filled bucket by bucket from the well. The girl would bathe by pouring bowls of water over her head, and then, as the boy imagined in his lusty fantasy, Cassie would lather her dark, slippery skin. She would rub her sexy nipples and soap that other place, whose appearance he could only surmise.

Powell had snatched his dark cap from the hall tree to cover his blond hair. By luck, he had worn a dark shirt, and he was sure his well tanned face would not betray him. He would be invisible from within the bath chamber. He moved quickly along the side of the house toward his goal, wanting to arrive before the unsuspecting girl came on stage.

Satisfied that his position was dimly lit by the cloudy sky of the late afternoon, the boy waited impatiently for the object of his lust to come and bathe. Soon, Cassie entered the chamber and pulled her dress over her head. The girl's dark skin glistened with her unwanted perspiration, and her conical breasts jutted from her bare chest.

The young voyeur panted with desire, as silently as he could manage, while the girl bent over, wearing just her white cotton underpants, and picked up a bar of soap from the floor. She set the soap on a table, and pushed down her panties.

Powell almost fainted from excitement, when she tossed them aside and stood, legs spread, and stretched her arms above her head. Every secret place of her body was exposed to his gaze. He frantically unbuttoned his trousers and pulled his hard prick through the opening.

The beautiful, almost mature young woman looked directly toward her hidden admirer, as she dipped a bowl into the tub and poured the cool water over her body. Her nipples erected, and goose bumps flashed over her skin, before her motion warmed her and chased them away.

Powell stroked his engorged organ, as the sexy girl soaped her dark body. She buried her flesh beneath a mass of white suds that slithered down toward the floor, revealing her dark, glistening skin and then covering it anew. The white boy wished he could reach through the wall and touch the soapy globes of her breasts.

He longed to fling off his own clothing and press his naked body against the girl's slippery black skin. His hard cock ached for fulfillment, somehow, within the dark, sensual flesh of the wet servant girl. He wished ...

Powell wished he hadn't heard the husky male voice behind him say, "What you doin' there, boy?"

He whirled, his fist frozen around his deflating cock, to face the threatening form of the girl's older brother. The sixteen-year-old worked as the family's gardener. His name was Noah, and now he stood close to the startled preacher's son, hands on his hips. The black boy's bare torso glistened with sweat; his shirt dangled from the back pocket of his dark canvas trousers, which were held up by a knotted rope belt.

Though darker than the tanned white boy, Noah's caramel complexion was several shades lighter than his chocolate-skinned sister. Powell was unaware of the whispered speculation of the older members of his father's congregation, who gossiped that the Reverend preacher was the only white man in the house at the time of the servant boy's conception.

"Y'all been peekin' at my sister, ain'cha?" the black boy accused his young master.

"No, I wasn't." Powell tried to deny his sin, knowing it was futile, as he frantically tried to stuff his prick back through the too small opening in his pants.

"My sister be in there nekkid, and y'all be out here watchin' and playin' with yourself," said the young gardener, in a tone more of wonder than outrage. "Ain't y'all in there, Cassie?" the boy called out in a louder voice.

"Is that y'all, Noah?" came the girl's reply. "What y'all doin' out there?"

"Mastah Powell be out here watchin' y'all in the bath, Cassie," her brother informed her.

"What would your daddy say about that?" Noah asked the preacher's son.

"You wouldn't tell him," said Powell in alarm.

"Your daddy'd tan your butt so y'all couldn't set for a week," declared Noah, savoring the picture. A plan was taking shape in the black boy's mind. "Come on out here, Cassie," he called to his sister.

"I'm going inside," said Powell. He started to move away from the bathroom wall.

Noah stepped in front of him. "No suh, 'lessen y'all be wantin' me and Cassie to tell your daddy what y'all was doin' out here with your pecker," said the black boy. "Stay right here for a minute," he ordered.

Powell's shoulders slumped. He was trapped. But what did Noah want?

Cassie came along the side of the house. She was wrapped in a white towel that covered her from just above her breasts to just below her hips. Powell's cock twitched, as he realized she must be naked under the towel.

"Let's go out back, behind the tool shed, and talk about this," said Noah.

"What we gonna do, Noah?" Cassie asked the question that filled Powell's mind.

"Y'all see when we get there," said her brother.

They walked across the yard toward the tool shed and went behind it, away from the sight of anyone in the house. When they stopped, Noah repeated the charge against the defendant. "So y'all likes to look at my sister, Mastah Powell?"

The white boy stood silent, and Noah pressed him, "Ain't that so? Speak up."

Powell took a breath. What did the black boy want? "Yes," he admitted.

"Do y'all think she's pretty, Mastah Powell?" asked Noah.

"Yes," said Powell.

"Take off that towel, Cassie," said Noah. Both of his companions looked shocked. "Go ahead, Cassie. Let him see y'all," said the black boy.

Not understanding, but trusting her older brother, Cassie unwrapped the towel from her body and dropped it on the grass. Then she put one arm across her breasts, and the other hand in front of her groin. When she saw her brother's frown, she dropped her hands to her side.

Powell's mouth hung open.

"Ain't she pretty, Mastah Powell?" asked Noah.

"Yes," said Powell. "She's beautiful, like one of those statues."

"Would y'all like to touch her, Mastah Powell?" Noah asked, in a voice that must have been something like that of the serpent in the Garden of Eden.

"Oh, yes," said Powell. His hand reached forward toward the girl.

"Hold it, Mastah Powell," barked Noah. "Take off your clothes."

Cassie's face lit up with a smile of delight. Powell's face showed only shock.

"Y'all heard me, Mastah Powell," said Noah. "It be only fair. If'n y'all wants to look at Cassie, then we wants to look at y'all."

Cassie got into the proceedings. "Go on, Mastah Powell. Ain't nobody out here but just us."

Powell couldn't speak, and couldn't move. He gulped.

The naked black girl took a step forward, and reached out. She tossed Powell's cap onto the grass, freeing his blond hair. "Lemme help y'all," she said, unbuttoning the white boy's shirt.

When it was open, Powell felt the burning touch of Noah's fingers sliding over the skin of his shoulders and along his arms, pulling the garment off and dropping it to the ground.

Powell's bare chest rose and fell with his heavy breathing, as Cassie opened his belt and started to undo the buttons of his fly.

"Wait!" said Noah, who dropped to his knees and lifted first one foot and then the other to remove Powell's shoes from his sockless feet. He stood up and moved around behind the white boy. "Go ahead, Cassie," he said.

Cassie undid Powell's fly, and Noah dragged the trousers off the boy's hips and let them drop to his ankles. Powell shuddered as Cassie pulled down his loose white cotton drawers. When they fell to the ground, she stepped back and looked curiously at the white boy's flaccid pink cock, framed by sparse yellow curls.

"Step out of your pants," directed Noah.

Powell lifted his feet and stepped forward, completely naked, toward the black girl, who took a step back.

Noah knelt and tossed the pants and shirt further away. When he stood again, he observed, "Y'all's not a bad lookin' boy, Mastah Powell. Ain't that so, Cassie?"

"Yes, Noah," agreed Cassie. "Mastah Powell, I'm right proud that y'all thinks I'm pretty."

She hesitated, and then said, "Y'all can touch me, if'n y'all wants to."

Cassie and Noah watched with interest as Powell's cock filled and stretched and rose to point straight toward the naked girl. The white boy stepped forward and softly cupped one of her firm, dark breasts with each hand. Powell's hard cock bumped against Cassie's hip. His hands moved over the forbidden fruit, massaging her hardening nipples.

"Ahhhh," moaned Cassie. "That feels real nice, Mastah Powell."

Powell felt Noah's callused hands roam over his naked hips. The black boy murmured in Powell's ear, "Don't be shy, Mastah Powell. Touch her pussy."

Powell's heart jumped at the sound of the naughty word. His right hand moved hesitantly downward; he rotated his palm and laid it between the black girl's legs. The heel of his hand brushed her tight curls; below, his fingers found a moist crease. He heard the girl sigh as he drew his hand back, and his finger trailed through a wet slit that opened before him like the Red Sea. At the top, he found a hard button and rubbed his slick finger around it curiously, making Cassie shiver.

Behind him, Powell heard Noah say, "Y'all can kiss her titty while y'all be doin' that." A hard stick slid along Powell's hip, and he realized it was Noah's naked cock.

Powell bent forward and slurped his lips over Cassie's dark breast. His finger slid through her cunt and teased her clit. He felt the black girl steady herself by gripping Powell's bare shoulders. His cock twitched regularly.

He barely noticed Noah's stiff prick bumping against his butt cheek, as the older boy pressed himself close and wrapped his arms around his young master. Noah's hands played over Powell's chest, rubbing his hard nipples, and wandered lower, across his flat belly, to brush softly over the white boy's hard, pink cock.

"Go on and set down on the grass, Cassie," directed Noah. "Mastah Powell, why don't y'all follow her down there, and lay where y'all can look at her pussy."

Like puppets on strings, the servant girl and the preacher's son moved into the suggested positions. Powell felt Noah's hands caressing his ass cheeks, and heard the black boy say, "Wouldn't y'all like to lick her down there, Mastah Powell? Tastes like honey, I hear."

Cassie's legs spread wide, opening her target to the white boy. Dazed with lust, Powell dipped his head and licked along the length of Cassie's cunt slit. "Ohhhh!" she gasped, and rolled her head from side to side in bliss.

Powell's tongue circled the girl's hard clit button, making her moan aloud. He barely heard the black boy spit, but he felt a wet finger circle his butthole.

Powell lifted his head and looked around. "What are you doing there?" he asked.

"Don't worry," Noah tried to reassure him. "I'm just gonna make y'all feel good. Y'all just go back to lickin' that honeypot."

Noah spit again, and slowly shoved his wet finger into Powell's hole.

"Ngggh," the white boy grunted, but he didn't take his tongue from Cassie's cunt.

Noah's cock throbbed in anticipation. He knew about the gossip concerning his daddy. He'd asked his mama, but she had just smiled and said, "Your daddy is a good man, and that's all y'all need to know."

He couldn't be sure, but the idea that he might be about to fuck his younger brother was even more exciting than screwing his boss's son. He pulled his finger out and spit again, and pushed the slimy fluid into Powell's pink hole with two fingers, wiggling them inside the tight channel. As he pumped his plundering fingers in and out of the hole between the smooth, white cheeks, he heard Powell moan and watched his head move faster. Cassie was jumping around like she was sitting in fire.

When Cassie shouted and pressed Powell's head tight against her cunt, Noah figured the time was right. He pulled out his fingers and spit in his hand and rubbed the slime over his own cock. He positioned it at the white boy's asshole, and rubbed it in circles. When the pink flower opened, and the purple head of his cock pushed inside Powell's butt, Noah reached his slippery hand around to slide along the young boy's hard prick.

Cassie was still hollering, and Powell was groaning and grunting, as Noah pushed his cock deeper into the white boy's channel. He pulled back and pushed again, and saw more than half of his tool vanish inside his little white brother's hole. Noah wiggled his hips and drilled his cock another inch into the tight tunnel; he was pleased to feel an answering waggle of Powell's butt. Together, they worked the long black pole to the bottom of the white boy's virgin ass.

Cassie's orgasm had subsided, and she raised herself on her elbows to watch her brother pump his cock into Powell's bottom. The young master pushed himself up to his elbows and knees, and Noah knelt erect to drive his shaft into Powell's hole.

The white boy dipped the fingers of first one hand and then the other into the black girl's sloppy pussy. He lingered a moment to tweak her sensitive clit between two wet fingers, making Cassie moan and drop her head back onto the grass.

Powell squirmed forward until his wet, slippery hands could caress the hard nipples on Cassie's firm breasts. He dug his face into her pussy, smearing it with the black girl's slimy juices. Powell slid his tongue in and out of Cassie's cunt hole, in time with her brother's strokes of his hard, black cock into the white boy's ass.

Noah pumped his rod in and out of Powell's warm, slick butt channel. He reached between his two companions and rubbed his hand through his sister's pussy juice that coated the cunt-licking boy's chin. The black boy slid his slippery fist along the length of Powell's hard, pink dick, making the white boy moan.

Powell flailed his tongue into Cassie's sloppy pussy, driven by the hot fire built in his dick by the black boy's stroking fist. Behind him, Noah's hard cock dug deep into the tight butt hole of the preacher's son.

Cassie was thrashing around, crying aloud, as the white boy's hands and tongue drove her to orgasm. Powell was driven to the edge of excitement by the black girl's ecstasy. Her brother's flailing fist and plunging cock pushed Powell over the brink.

Noah felt the younger boy's prick throb in his hand. The pulses of Powell's jism surging through his cock sent the black boy off as well. Noah drove his hard pole deep into Powell's tight ass, and pumped his black seed into the white boy's clenching butt.

Finally, exhausted, the three teenagers collapsed into a limp pile of spent flesh. Powell nuzzled Cassie's flooded pussy slit, while Noah nibbled at the blond boy's neck.

After a while, Cassie wriggled out from under the weight of the two boys who lay on her hips.

"I've got to get back in the house now," she said. She got up and picked up her towel and walked around the corner of the shed.

Noah lay quietly on the back of the white boy, his softening cock still buried in Powell's slippery butt.

"That was a sin, Noah," said Powell.

Noah pulled his limber dick back, and then worked it forward into the depths of Powell's hole. Powell groaned, and squirmed against the black boy's groin.

"It was a damned sin, Mastah Powell," Noah said.

He drew back and withdrew his cock from Powell's ass with a wet plop. Noah scrambled to his feet, and when the white boy rolled over, Noah offered a hand to help him up.

"We better get dressed now, Mastah Powell," he said.

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Chapter 2

The next afternoon, Powell and Noah lay naked, side by side, on the grassy bank of the stream that ran behind the house. The white boy's hand idly rubbed circles through the sticky cream that had puddled on his belly. He looked over at the white pearl that glistened at the end of the black cock that had filled his butt with spunk just a little while before.

The white boy pondered what the servant boy had told him earlier about his father. He felt a closeness to the boy who might be his brother.

"Noah," he said.

"Yeah," said the black boy.

"Noah," he said, "what's it like? I mean, to think that you and I could be brothers?"

Noah's eyes were closed. Powell watched as the black boy rubbed his own cock, coaxing it to fill again with his hot blood.

Noah got up and crawled between the legs of the white boy. He shoved Powell's legs back against his chest and positioned his nearly dry cock at the boy's opening, still reddened from their earlier fuck.

Powell felt the head of Noah's hard cock press into his tight hole. "Ow!" he yelped.

Noah pushed his cock further into the tight channel. His sperm was still inside, but the tender tissues were no longer slick. The black boy pulled back and drove his weapon all the way into the wet depth of Powell's butt.

"Stop, Noah," begged Powell. "It hurts."

Noah let his cock rest inside his stricken companion. "That's right, Mas-tah," he said, drawing the syllables out in a strained voice. "It hurts, Mastah Powell."

Powell felt the hard, black cock pull back and shove into his butt again. It didn't hurt as much as before.

"It hurts to be sweatin' in the garden while y'all be goin' to school. It hurts to think that someday, when your daddy dies, y'all will be settin' in the front pew at the church, while Mama and I be way in the back. And maybe Mama will finally tell me the truth. And it hurts to think that y'all will get the house and ever'thin' else from my daddy, and I be the oldest son."

Powell's heart clenched in sympathy for the black boy's pain. His butt clamped tight from the pleasure of Noah's hot pole sliding through his sensitive tissues. The red head of Powell's inflamed dick rubbed against his pale belly, when Noah's brown hips drove his dark cock deep inside.

Powell's hands caressed the smooth flanks of the black boy. As Noah's strokes slowed to a steady pace, driving his dark shaft into the white boy's ass, Powell could feel the tension leaving his once angry brother. He looked into the black boy's eyes, and saw again the affection he had seen earlier.

Supporting himself with one hand, Noah wrapped a fist gently around his partner's hot prick.

"Be careful!" warned Powell. "I'm close to shooting."

"I'll be careful," said the black boy. He couldn't bring himself to say Powell's name. Couldn't say it without the 'Master' and wouldn't say it with it.

"How can anything that feels this good be such a terrible sin?" said Powell.

"Don't y'all worry none 'bout that," said Noah, again omitting his partner's name. "I got it figured out now. I'm gonna make y'all like this so much that when y'all gets that ol' house, y'all gonna just bring me in there with y'all."

"Oh, yeah, Noah," said Powell. "Just keep doing it and you won't need to worry."

Noah pulled his cock out until just the bulb of the head was inside the white boy's butt. Then he drove his black cock hard into his partner's hole, making Powell groan. Noah's tight fist gripped the white boy's hot, pink dick. He was ready to bring them both over the edge.

Powell moaned, as Noah's hard prick rubbed across his prostate. He squirmed with pleasure, as he felt the black boy's cock slide deep into his slick hole. The white boy's dick throbbed, as Noah stroked it with his tight, brown fist.

Noah pumped faster and harder into his writhing partner. When he felt Powell's spunk surge through the hot dick in his fist, the white boy's clenching butt milked a burst of sperm from Noah's cock. The two boys groaned and humped against each other, until their passion was drained. Then they rested together on the grass.

Powell locked his legs around the black boy's ribs. They rolled onto their sides, and Noah hunched his groin to keep his still hard cock buried inside the white boy's ass. They lay together in each other's arms, their faces close. Powell and Noah looked into each other's eyes, and their lips came together, as each boy shared his first kiss with the other.

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Chapter 3

Later that evening, Powell was roused from his bed by a tapping on his window. Wearing only his white cotton drawers, he climbed out the window and joined Cassie and Noah. They dashed to their shelter behind the shed and threw off what little clothing they wore.

Without hesitation, they moved into position to repeat the exciting sex of the previous afternoon. Powell wlecomed the intrusion of the black boy's cock into his willing ass. The white boy's eager tongue soon teased the black girl to a passionate orgasm.

The moonlight glistened on Cassie's dark, saliva-streaked skin as she lay panting from the excitement of her climax. Powell's talented tongue had exquisitely pleasured the young servant girl again. The white boy relaxed, savoring the feel of Noah's cock slowly stroking inside his butt.

"I got somethin' for y'all two," said Noah.

He reached to the side and pulled a small packet from the pocket of his trousers. His companions watched with curiosity as the black boy tore open the wrapper and removed a small, rubbery disk.

"Y'all two gonna do it together tonight," said Noah.

Cassie's eyes were wide with wonder. Powell's mouth flapped open, and then he protested, "But ..."

"Shush," said the black boy. His cock drove deep inside the white boy's tight butt, as Noah reached around and placed the device at the end of Powell's hard dick. "This here thing will catch your seed, and y'all won't make no baby in my sister."

Cassie watched, wide eyed, as her brother's brown fingers unrolled the condom along his young master's hard, pink dick. Noah reached forward and dipped a finger into his sister's wet pussy and stroked Powell's tightly covered cock, moistening it.

"Is y'all ready, Cassie?" he asked his sister. "Is y'all ready for Mastah Powell to bust your cherry?"

"Yes!" said Cassie. Her voice was eager, and her breasts rose and fell as she panted with excitement. "Put your pecker in me, Mastah Powell."

Powlell leaned forward, aiming his covered cock toward the black girl's cunt. Cassie wriggled along the ground until her pussy hole was aligned with the white boy's spear. Powell lowered himself, and felt the head of his cock touch the girl's opening. He felt Noah's hand stir the white boy's hard rod until it slid into the girls's slippery cunt.

"Ohhhh," Cassie grunted, as Powell's cock pushed against something inside her.

"It won't go in any further," said Powell, looking at half of his cock still outside the girl's wet pussy lips.

"That's her cherry," said Noah. "Y'all got to break it."

The black boy shoved his own hard dick deep inside the white boy's butt, and then dropped his weight onto Powell's back. He felt Powell fall forward, as his cock was forced into Cassie's unready pussy hole.

"Aieee!" screamed Cassie.

Noah quickly reached to press his palm against his sister's mouth. "It's all right, Cassie," he said. "He done broke your cherry."

"Oh, God, Noah," moaned Cassie. "It hurt so much."

She saw that the white boy's eyes reflected her own pain. It wasn't his fault, she thought. Noah made him do it.

"It's gonna feel real good now, Cassie," said her brother. "You'll see."

He pulled his cock halfway out, and then tugged at the white boy's hips. "Pull back," he instructed, "and then push your pecker into her again."

Powell complied, and was rewarded with what seemed to be a moan of pleasure from the violated black girl. His movement stroked his own butt channel along Noah's invading shaft. He got into a steady rhythm, bringing the three connected teenagers to an ever higher state of excitement. They all groaned with pleasure as Powell's piston and cylinder drove the engine of their lust.

Powell dipped his head and licked his tongue around one of Cassie's hard nipples. He swirled around the cone of her breast, and then moved to attend the other one. Cassie moaned, as her passion grew.

The black girl's tight cunt squeezed Powell's dick as he pumped in and out of her channel. He wished he could enjoy the feeling of Cassie's hot, moist tissues massaging his hard flesh, but the covering that would keep his seed inside worked as well to avoid the contact he wanted. His prick felt as if it were being stroked by the firm, dry grip of Noah's fist.

Cassie squirmed beneath the white boy. Powell felt proud that he was making the black girl feel good, but his own pleasure was coming from Noah's hard, black cock rubbing across that place in his butt that made Powell's prick jump. The white boy felt his dick getting hotter and bigger, and he knew he was about to fill the jacket he was pushing into Cassie's slick pussy.

Noah was pumping faster now, while the white boy kept his steady rhythm in and out of Cassie's cunt. The three teenagers were moaning and grunting, as their climax approached. Noah saw his sister's body go rigid and heard her cry out. He felt Powell thrust down and hold his place, and felt the white boy's tight tunnel clamp around the black boy's cock. Noah drove into Powell's butt and fell on top of him, gripping his hips as his seed began to spurt deep inside the hot, white ass.

The trio thrashed and groaned together, until their excitement finally ebbed. They lay spent, trying to catch their breath. Noah's hands gently caressed Powell's shoulders, and then his sister's. They all felt a wonderful sense of peace and contentment.

But not for long.

"Powell!" An authoritative bark echoed through the still night air.

To the three teenagers, frozen in their lewd tableau, it sounded like the voice of God. Their eyes blinked at the sight of Reverend Arthur Blair, clad in a long white nightshirt. His hair was in disarray, and he was glaring as if he were Moses confronted by the golden calf.

"Get up from there," the preacher ordered.

Noah jerked his softening cock from the white boy's butt and sat back on his heels. Powell scrambled to his feet and faced his irate father. The sperm filled condom drooped from the white boy's shrinking dick. Behind him, Powell saw that Cassie had curled herself into a ball on the ground.

"Take that thing off," Reverend Blair commanded.

Powell tugged the loose bag from his wilted prick and dropped the evidence of his sin onto the grass.

"Where are your clothes?" his father thundered.

Powell's eyes darted around like a frightened rabbit. He saw that Noah was holding out the white boy's drawers. Powell grabbed them and danced around, trying to get his legs into them. He stumbled and fell in front of his father.

"Get up," said his father, in a voice subdued by the pitiful condition of his child.

Powell stood and pulled up his drawers, feeling the dampness from the dew covered grass where he'd fallen.

"Go to your room, son," said the preacher. "Clean yourself, and get dressed in your Sunday suit and meet me at the front door."

Noah and Cassie watched them walk away. They shuddered at the thought that they would have to go inside and tell their mother.

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Chapter 4

Reverend Arthur Blair, also dressed in his Sunday suit, led his son out of the house. They walked in silence to the church next door, where the older man opened the door.

Powell followed his father to the front of the church, and sat down in the first pew. The Reverend made a gesture, and Powell knelt on the floor. The preacher rested his hands on the head of his errant child, and began to pray in a loud voice, imploring God and Jesus to forgive his son. Powell's attention wandered, and he only dimly remembered phrases like "fiery pits of hell" and "pitchforks of the devil."

When the morning sun began to shine through the stained glass windows, the two returned to the house. Powell picked at his breakfast, and then excused himself to get ready for school.

Somehow, Powell made it through the morning without nodding off at his desk. At noon, he found a spot by himself under a tree and ate the freshly baked bread with ham and yellow cheese and home-made mayonnaise that Ellen, the cook, always made for him. Powell had just taken a bite from an apple, when he saw a younger boy running toward him.

"There was a nigra boy at the gate," the boy panted. "He said to tell you they was leavin' now."

Powell handed his apple to the surprised boy and ran toward the road.

One of his friends called after him, "Powell! Class is 'bout ready to start."

Ignoring the voice, Powell dashed toward the center of town. When he came near the train station, he cut over to the street that led to his own house. Coming toward him, he saw the cook and her two children carrying a box tied with string and a cardboard suitcase.

Powell stood before them on the sidewalk. "Ellen," he said to the cook, "I'm sorry."

The woman's eyes flashed, and her palm slapped Powell hard on his cheek. "Look what y'all done to me, boy," she cried. "Look what y'all done to my fam'ly."

Powell could think of nothing to say. He felt a tear run down his cheek. Noah set down the suitcase and stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the white boy. He squeezed Powell in his firm embrace for a moment, and then stepped away.

"C'mon," said Ellen, tugging at her son's arm.

Noah picked up the worn suitcase. "Y'all let us go now, Powell," he said.

Tears blurred the white boy's vision and streamed down both his cheeks as the family brushed past him. "You take care, Noah," he said in a strained voice. "You too, Cassie," he called as they moved away from him toward the station.

People looked at Powell strangely, as he made his way toward his home, tears flowing from his eyes. He paid them no mind. Finding his way around his house to the back, he pulled himself up and through his own bedroom window.

Powell sat on the bed and unlaced his shoes, and then threw himself face down onto his pillow. He wept silently until he fell asleep.

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The End.