Chapter 1 - The Club

CHAPTER 1: THE CLUB

Mmabatho Molefe sat in the back of the dimly lit strip club nursing her Long Island Iced Tea. She wasn't much of a drinker, so she took tiny sips as she watched the dancers perform. She was a small-town pastor, as was her husband; he had initially refused to allow her to be ordained, as he felt a woman's place was in supplication to her husband, but during COVID they needed a second pastor and couldn't afford to hire anyone, so he finally relented. She enjoyed leading services in their little parish in Bethlehem — typically handling the less busy weekday services, preaching openness and kindness, while her husband led the weekend services preaching obedience and repentance.

They had married young, just eighteen, and she had always felt a lack of fulfilment with her life. Becoming a pastor had helped, but there was still a physical longing she couldn't quite satisfy. She couldn't tell her husband — he would call her sinful and tell her to pray her feelings away, but she couldn't. So on her monthly trip to Bloemfontein to stock up at Makro, she decided to give in to the urge and come to one of these dens of ill-repute. Staring at the dancers — toned bodies, large fake tits, shaved vaginas — gave her feelings, both of longing but also of jealousy, as she witnessed the men gather around the stage throwing notes. There was a part of her that wanted to be wanted by these men, that wanted to drive them wild.

She had dressed in her usual modest fashion — long calf-length skirt, loose blue t-shirt, and a pullover jersey. Underneath, she was self-conscious about her body; she was slightly chubby, with thick thighs and medium-sized breasts. She could never hang off a pole by her legs like these women were, nor could she ever feel as sexy as they did. She took another small sip of her drink and her hand unconsciously ran down to her thigh, caressing herself over the fabric of her skirt as her mind filled with thoughts and fantasies.

Unbeknownst to Mmabatho, she had been noticed. Lesego Rampou, a motor-spares salesman, used to joke that in the divorce his wife got their hometown and their church — Mmabatho's church. He smiled warmly at the attractive young woman, but she didn't notice. He stood by the bar with his beer, wearing his suit since he had just got off work. She was easy to spot in the crowd; typically the only women one saw here were a bachelorette party looking for something different. Taking another swig of his drink, he wondered what a prim and proper pastor like her was doing here, and he decided to ask.

"Mmabatho?" The deep voice interrupted her staring at the show. She realised her hand had slipped down her waistband and she was stroking her inner thigh. Mmabatho turned to face the man, panic setting in as she realised he had called her by name. She didn't recognise him. He was a tall, thickly built man, like an ex-rugby player, with warm hazel-brown eyes. He was at least a decade older than her, which would put him in his early forties.

"How do you know my name?" she hissed through clenched teeth.

Realising she was nervous, Lesego tried his best to calm her down with a soothing, low tone. "I used to attend your church," he said, "before I moved away." He sat down next to her and leaned over to whisper to her, "I never thought I'd see a pastor in a place like this."

Her cheeks burned at the comment. Her husband was right — she was sinful, and now she was going to lose everything for giving in to her desires. "Please don't tell anyone," she whispered back.

She saw a look of surprise wash over his face. "Of course I won't, but I will ask that you allow me to sit here and enjoy the show with you."

Mmabatho wanted to shoo him away but knew she couldn't risk him ratting on her, so she allowed him to sit next to her. The music blared and a new dancer came on the stage, a stunning, muscular woman with honey-blonde braids. Mmabatho couldn't look away as this beautiful specimen of womanhood swayed around on stage, slowly disrobing, revealing more of her beauty. Lesego noticed how intently she was staring and wondered if she secretly preferred women, his cock twitching both at the sight of the dancer and the thought that had entered his head, of the dancer and Mmabatho entwined in bed.

Mmabatho glanced over to see Lesego was staring too, then she caught a glimpse of the erection straining at his pants. She blushed. She couldn't believe she was in a strip club with a strange man and thinking of sinful things. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help it. Her hand slipped under her waistband and she started gently stroking her pussy, already getting wet with desire, hoping Lesego wouldn't notice.

Lesego of course noticed what she was doing, worried they might get kicked out but hoping that since they were in the back, no one would notice. His cock was now aching for release; the thought of the pastor masturbating next to him while they watched the dancer made him want to touch himself. He restrained himself, though — neither wanting to get kicked out nor wanting to startle the woman next to him. Clearly she was in need of a release; her pent-up sexual desires were driving her mad.

He decided to shoot his shot. "My seat has a better view," he started. "Why don't you sit on my lap?"

Part of Mmabatho wanted to slap him; part of her wanted to do exactly that. The half-glass of Long Island Iced Tea combined with the sexuality loose in this room clouded her judgement, and so she decided to take him up on his offer. She climbed up onto his lap, her loose skirt flowing down around his legs, she positioned her ass and could feel his erection graze against her. They continued to watch as the dancer with the blonde braids finished her set and a petite dancer with fiery red hair took her place.

Lesego slid his hand up Mmabatho's skirt and started caressing her hips and thighs, causing her to gasp; she wanted to stop him, but the sensations he was sending through her body kept her from reacting. He planted a gentle kiss on the side of her neck and whispered in her ear, "We have to be quiet or we'll get kicked out." She nodded and bit her lip as he slipped a hand under her panties and started to stroke her wet pussy while he continued to plant kisses along her neck.

Mmabatho had certainly had sex with her husband, but it was always a plain affair. Lights-off missionary and no sort of foreplay. He would thrust into her, pump a few times, and finish. The stranger's finger tracing up and down her vaginal lips was causing sensations she had never experienced before. He slowly stroked his finger against her clitoris, moving up and down; he could hear her muffled gasps as she tried to stay quiet. His other hand moved up her t-shirt and cupped one of her breasts over her bra. Stroking his finger over her hard nipple, the feeling of the fabric of her bra pressed and grinding against her nipples sent pleasure through her body.

"You're so beautiful," Lesego whispered in Mmabatho's ear, making her blush. She never really felt beautiful, but with this man touching her and kissing her she couldn't help but feel desired and wanted. Lesego suckled on her ear while his fingers started penetrating her pussy, sliding two deep inside of her while his thumb pressed against her clit. Mmabatho couldn't help but let a moan out; Lesego looked around, but it seemed no one had noticed over the sound of the music.

Another dancer took the stage as Lesego fingered Mmabatho; she watched the beautiful woman with the smaller natural tits dance as his fingers probed her vagina. He continued to use his thumb to stroke her clit as her soaking pussy covered his fingers in her sweet nectar. He was able to tug her bra down with his other hand and caressed her exposed nipple, still under the baggy, unflattering t-shirt she wore. His cock ached and yearned for her; she could feel it pressing into her ass while she sat on his lap. Lesego suckled on her ear as his fingers probed in and out of her pussy.

"Do you wish she was fingering you?" Lesego whispered in Mmabatho's ear. Mmabatho nodded as his fingers stretched her pussy. She couldn't help it; she wanted him, she wanted the dancer, she wanted all sorts of hands all over her needy body. Despite her upbringing, all she could think about at the moment was sex, gratification, desire, need.

"I bet your needy pussy wants fingers, mouths, cocks all the time, doesn't it?" he continued as his fingers moved faster in and out of Mmabatho's tight hole, his thumb rapidly stroking across her clit. She was overwhelmed with pleasure, never having experienced this kind of treatment before, and bit her lip so hard a little blood trickled out as she came hard all over his fingers. He continued stroking, slower now, letting her come down from her orgasm. Her body pulsed and spasmed as the pleasure of the orgasm flowed through her and she practically fell off his lap.

She had a blissful smile on her face as he held her close, but that smile quickly faded as the enormity of the situation dawned on her. Here she was in a strip club, with a stranger who had just fingered her to orgasm. She couldn't even begin to count the sins she had committed tonight. She quickly got off his lap. "I'm sorry," Mmabatho said, looking into the stranger's eyes, deep and warm, "I shouldn't have come here."

She quickly grabbed her handbag, left a couple of notes on the table for the drink and bolted out of the club. She got into her car, full of boxes from Makro, and sat in the driver's seat full of remorse for what she had done — remorse for the actions and how much she had enjoyed them. Mmabatho had never felt so wanted before; this stranger brought out her long-hidden sexual desires she had believed were sinful.

On the long drive home, Mmabatho alternated remorse with fear over what she had done becoming public. She didn't know this man; there's no guarantee he wouldn't tell everyone what they had done. As she pulled into her driveway and started unloading boxes, she realised that there was nothing she could do if he decided to talk, and she just had to pray for forgiveness and try to better control her urges.

She was calming down as she got ready for bed when her husband, Pastor Tshepo Molefe, came in as she was preparing her night-time routine. The whole time she had unpacked the groceries and put things away, he just sat in their living room watching TV, not offering to help, not even noticing something was wrong.

"Honey," he said, looking at her with his cold eyes, "tonight you need to do your wifely duties."

Mmabatho's heart sank. After what she had done at the club she was in no mood for sex with her husband. "Please, not tonight," she replied. "I don't feel up to it."

Tshepo grabbed Mmabatho's wrist and reminded her sternly, "It is your duty to satisfy me as the head of the household, whenever I need it."

Mmabatho quietly nodded. She was already in her nightgown, so she removed the clean panties she had put on when she got home. The pair that had been covered in her juices she shoved to the bottom of the laundry basket. She turned out the lights and lay back on the bed while Tshepo disrobed. In the moonlight she caught a glimpse of his twelve-centimetre penis; she idly wondered how big the stranger's penis was. Tshepo climbed on top of her and thrust into her unaroused vagina; after a few minutes of pumping he filled her with cum.

With Tshepo there was no cuddling, no aftercare; he kissed her on the cheek and rolled over and quickly fell asleep. Mmabatho wondered if he had noticed her lack of arousal, wondered if he cared. The turmoil inside of her caused her to toss and turn most of the night, until finally falling into a dreamless sleep.

Entering the small chapel, Mmabatho was finally starting to feel like herself again. After barely sleeping and dealing with the aftermath of her… indiscretion, she started to feel better as she prepared for service. It was a weekday early-afternoon service, mostly pensioners, maybe one or two stay-at-home moms whose kids are in school. Very calm, mostly women, which put Mmabatho at ease. As a small charismatic church, they didn't have the same strict rules on wear as an Anglican or Catholic parish — she wore a light purple long-sleeve shirt with a tab collar, signifying her role as the pastor, over it a white cover-up and an ankle-length black skirt. She felt embarrassed wearing the skirt; it was similar to the one she sinned in last night, but she preferred wearing more feminine skirts when she preached.

Her sermon was going to be on forgiveness — forgiveness she wanted for herself. She had consented to what happened but immediately regretted it; not because of the feelings it caused, which were amazing, but for betraying her vows to her husband and to God. She liked to talk to her congregation afterwards and put out a flask of coffee and trays of baking in the foyer of the church so she could catch up with everyone after the sermon. She unlocked the door so that the congregants could enter and went back to her office to do her final preparations — reviewing her notes, checking the readings in her Bible, and calming her nerves.

She looked at the clock and realised it was time to begin. She left the office and walked up the steps to the stage upon which their altar sat. She cleared her throat and looked out at the small audience — and saw him. The man from the club was here, wearing a suit. He stood out like a sore thumb, as he was the only male under the age of sixty. Her heart caught in her throat as she felt something — some of it was disgust at her actions, but there was something else that made her wish they were alone. She buried the feelings and went on with her sermon, hoping no one noticed her momentary lapse.

The afternoon went by in a blur as Mmabatho tried to ignore the man. After the sermon was over and the congregation started filing into the foyer for coffee and snacks, Mmabatho approached him to find out what he was doing here.

"Excuse me," she said, trying not to betray any feelings — the afternoon congregation was a group of delightful people but also very gossipy. "You're new here, aren't you?"

Lesego smiled at her, causing feelings to stir in her once more. "No, ma'am. Lapsed. I used to come to this church, then moved away. I happen to be in town on business and thought I'd come by. My name's Lesego, by the way." He offered his hand and Mmabatho accepted it, feeling electricity as they touched. "Lesego," Mmabatho said, with a warmth she intended to fake but came out earnestly, "can you come with me to my office and we can discuss your attendance?" Mmabatho led Lesego to her small church office, much smaller than her husband's, as it was only intended for her to do clerical work and not to perform work as an equal pastor.

"You know you caused some trouble for me at the club," Lesego started, before she could ask him why he was there.

"Caused YOU trouble?" Mmabatho said incredulously.

"Yeah. A woman sits with a man at a strip club and then runs out in a hurry — the bouncers were worried I'd hurt you or something."

Mmabatho felt legitimately upset at causing this man trouble, momentarily forgetting her anger and worry about his presence in her church. "I'm sorry," she said.

Lesego laughed. "It's not a problem — after all, I had a lot of fun, and could have got into a lot more trouble if they caught us."

"You enjoyed…" she struggled with the words, "touching me?"

"It's not every day I get to pleasure a beautiful young lady," he smiled.

Mmabatho laughed at that. "Beautiful? I'm all chunky, not like those women at the strip club."

"Mmabatho, you may be a bit thicker, that's true," Lesego was choosing his words delicately, but was honest in his feelings, "but that doesn't mean you're not beautiful. Your figure is absolutely amazing, and yes, I enjoyed fingering your juicy pussy."

Hearing the crude words made Mmabatho blush and reminded her of her anger above the man's compliments. "That's right — you tempted me into sin last night. I felt so ashamed I could barely face my husband when I got home."

"I didn't tempt you into anything," Lesego replied. "You went to a strip club out of your own want, you sat on my lap of your own want, you let me touch you of your own want. I think you couldn't face your husband because you felt ashamed of how he treats you, not out of shame of your desires. He doesn't make you feel wanted or needed the way a woman should."

Mmabatho wanted to slap Lesego, but she knew he wasn't entirely wrong. "My desires are sinful," she replied. "Temptations from the devil, and I'm too weak to fight them."

Lesego shook his head. "I don't believe that. We were made in God's image; He wants us to feel pleasure and desire any way we see fit. It's men who want to control us who tell us it's sinful, while they get to enjoy their sex lives." Lesego met Mmabatho's gaze. "I bet your husband demands sex whenever he wants it and doesn't consider it sinful."

Mmabatho turned away, and Lesego came up behind her, holding her close. He whispered in her ear, "Tell me honestly you don't want me and I'll go." Mmabatho couldn't; this man held a sway over her she couldn't deny. Lesego leaned in and kissed down her neck, causing her to gasp. His hands moved up her shirt and caressed her tits through her bra, much as he had the other night. Mmabatho quivered with anticipation — the feeling of his lips on her skin, his hands on her body; she could feel her ladyhood dampen with anticipation.

Lesego's hand was rougher today than it had been the night before, groping her breasts as he suckled on her earlobe. She reached her hand around and grabbed his head, keeping it in place so his tongue could trace along her earlobe as his hands squeezed her chest. The collar on her shirt kept his mouth from going too low, just along the side of her neck, as he moved his hands down her thick body and let a fingertip tease her pussy lips.

"I fingered you yesterday," Lesego whispered in her ear. "I want to do something new to you today. I want to taste your juicy pussy."

Mmabatho blushed at the vulgarity of his language and the request; she had never imagined a mouth on her vagina, but it made her squirm with anticipation. Lesego hiked her skirt up to her waist and started kissing the backs of her thighs and over her panty-covered ass. He tugged her large, white granny panties down over her big, chubby ass and left small, wet kisses all over her cheeks. "Turn around and sit on your desk," he commanded.

"Yebo baba," she whispered, and obeyed. Out of habit she closed her legs as she sat; Lesego used his strong hands to pry her legs apart and took her panties all the way down until pulling them off at her ankles. Lesego sniffed the panties, the smell of her juices filling his nostrils, and slipped them into his pocket. He dropped down to his knees and started kissing up and along her inner thigh.

Mmabatho stifled a moan, knowing that outside the office her congregants were still milling about for their social time, but every touch of Lesego's lips against her skin made her quiver and quake. He kissed his way slowly up her thigh, inching his way towards her already soaking pussy. As his mouth approached her, he bypassed her pussy altogether and started kissing the other thigh, teasing her. Once again he slowly kissed towards her quivering womanhood and held his mouth directly in front of her; he let his tongue slowly, gently flick against her clit, causing a low moan to escape from Mmabatho's mouth. His tongue probed her pussy, teasing her lips before lapping at her clit once more. He planted kisses all up and down Mmabatho's pussy; she was grateful she was already sitting, as her legs felt like rubber while Lesego's mouth sent pleasure through her body.

Lesego slid a finger inside Mmabatho's tight pussy as his lips clamped around her clit and suckled deeply. Mmabatho groaned in pleasure at the intrusion as his thick finger filled her, swirling inside of her, stretching her as he suckled on her clit. Once again Lesego was introducing Mmabatho to new sensations and pleasures as her body convulsed. The feeling of his finger in her vagina and his tongue on her clitoris was driving her wild. She bit her lip to stay quiet as she came, juices flowing all over Lesego's face as he fingered and licked her through orgasm.

"Stop…" she practically begged as Lesego pulled away, leaving the panting mess of a woman on her desk. There was a knock at the door and an aged voice called out, "Pastor Molefe?"

Panic struck Mmabatho as she quickly stood and pulled her skirt down, making sure she was presentable. She handed Lesego a box of tissues to wipe her juices from his face. Mmabatho opened the door to find Mme Moloi, a widowed older woman who had been attending their church since the day they opened it. "Oh, Mme Moloi," Mmabatho apologised, gesturing to Lesego, "I'm sorry, I was in a private counselling session."

Lesego was rubbing the tissues under his eyes with soft, fake sobs. "Thank you for being so kind, you've really helped me."

"Lesego? Is that you? I thought you moved." Mme Moloi looked at the man with a stern eye. "After your… divorce." She practically spat the word.

"I'm in the area on business, wanted to reconnect with the good Lord," Lesego said. "Thanks again, Pastor Molefe." He smiled at Mmabatho and subtly placed the spare key to his hotel, in its little paper folio, into her handbag. He exited the office and nodded politely at the older woman as he left.

"You watch out for that man," Mme Moloi confided in the pastor. "I've heard he's into some nasty things."

Mmabatho smiled at the older woman. "What could he ever want from a woman of God like me?" and laughed slightly, guiding her back to the foyer to talk with the other congregants.

After everyone had left the church, Mmabatho found the key card in her handbag. She sat in her office staring at it. The City Lodge logo, room number and Wi-Fi password were printed neatly on the paper cover. It was clear he wanted to see her again, to tempt her to sin again — no, she corrected herself — wanted to pleasure her again. She trembled at the thought of his mouth on her body again, imagined what it would feel like to have his hands and mouth all over her; her vagina tingled at the thought.

She looked at the clock. Her husband wouldn't be expecting her home for a few hours. Steeling herself, she decided to go see Lesego. It was an important decision; the last two times he had come to her. This time she was taking action. This time she was going to wilfully commit adultery with a man she barely knew. The entire drive over, she felt butterflies in her stomach as she anticipated what would happen at this hotel. She was worried about making love with a man she didn't know, worried he might reject her when he saw her naked — she had been fully dressed when he pleasured her, after all — worried that he would force her to do things she didn't want to do.

She swallowed all of these emotions as she knocked on the door to his room.