The last 3 minutes

The last 3 minutes

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WpMetadataReadOngoing1h 3m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, May 21, 2017
The music faded into the background during dinner. It was Christmas Eve. Clarissa watched as her beautiful child as she ran across the floor being chased by her father. Rosalie was only four and already her big curls were swinging at her hips. Her big sea green eyes looked identical to Eric's. Her nose even resembled his so well that when Clarissa looked at her husband she often called him Rosalie. Eric swooped down and lifted his laughing daughter into the air when they heard a knock on the door. Rosalie immediately quite laughing and looked at me with wondering eyes. "Go to your room Rosalie. Now!" Eric swatted her away. Clarissa followed her.
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She was the undesired outcast, who stood out, yet simultaneously blended effortlessly into the background. I could see the panic in her glassy brown eyes as she prayed her way through the crowded hallways. She'd tightly clutch that cross around her neck, full lips whispering, asking her God to spare her from their scornful glares, hateful comments, and the occasional rough-up. Silly girl. Did she not know that he was not listening and he would never save her? Like Jesus, she was the sacrificial lamb. The anxiety-riddled girl would burst through the doors of the school's library with her chest heaving, heart racing, and sweat dripping from her temples. I'd watch her from the shadows as she stored her items behind the check-out counter, preparing for her free period she spent assisting the school librarian. I clenched my teeth, watching her wheel a cart of books throughout the aisles as she cheerfully hummed her Sunday hymnals. She wore a green and blue pinafore dress that fell mid-calf on her shapely body. She attempted to hide that body from me with oversized clothes, but you could never outfox a fox. They spoke pure blasphemy when they labeled her undesirable because I desired Jezebel Holmes in the worst way. Those opaque white stockings our classmates teased her for wearing did nothing but spur countless hours of fantasies. I'd dream about ripping her tights apart, right at her center, revealing her virginal cotton white panties covering her untouched paradise. I'd yank them to the side and taste her fear in her cum. Her stockings would find themselves strangling her neck while I fucked a believer out of her. I would be the one she'd pray to absolve her of her sins. I would be the one she would seek protection from. I would be her guiding light. I would be her God. #1 in Dark Romance #1 in Tainted Love #1 in Preacher's Daughter 1st Place in General Category - Hearts Award

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