Chapter Four
CAIN
I’ll see you in seven days, Father Cain .
I couldn’t make it an hour without seeing Enya again.
I followed her from Saint Catherine’s, the whole way to this dump she calls home.
I had to be creative with my hiding in town.
Most folk in Priest River know I’m not one to come down from my parish, and that I try to live off the land as best I can.
The fewer faces that get to see me, the better.
After all these years, anonymity is the secret to my success.
My past is behind me, long ago forgotten by the world, and I’ve gotten used to being alone.
That’s gotta be the reason Enya’s causing such a profound rupture in my life.
Loneliness has gotten the better of me, and Enya’s the cure.
Soggy earth squishes and squelches beneath my feet.
No grass covers the muddy soil and I nearly slip on every other step.
But, Enya’s at her window, observing the cosmos above my head.
Without a light on in her room, I have to get closer for a better inspection.
Enya’s still in her mini-skirt and blouse, basically blending in with the pitch black of her bedroom.
At the very least, I’ve gotten to see her, before she draws the curtain.
It doesn’t do much to satiate my craving for her, though.
Enya’s tugging at the ends of the two curtains on either side of the window. She pulls one side shut, turning over her shoulder to look at the door. She pulls the second closed, shutting the window, and turning on her heels.
Good. What am I even doing here? Betraying myself, standing against everything I believe in, forsaking God.
But, before I can find my feet and leave this place, Enya flicks the light switch on.
The second curtain hasn’t closed all the way.
A foot and a half remains open. I can see directly into her bedroom.
Enya’s pacing back and forth around her room.
If I get closer, I’ll be able to see her, to see everything.
No, Cain, get out of here. Free will is God’s way of testing me, and that narrow opening is his challenge. Forgiveness for my heinous acts in the church is an easy ask. Merely watching Enya touch herself, bad as it may be, has nothing on voyeurism.
Get the hell out of here. Easier said than done, especially with Enya constantly moving back and forth. Every time she’s in my view, my internal struggles vanish and I have to start again.
Music starts playing inside, some modern-day pop song I’ve got no interest in. What’s Enya doing in there? It’s none of my business. As I find my feet to walk away, she steps into view again. She’s facing away from me, with a shirt and shorts dangling over her shoulder.
Enya tosses her bedtime garments onto the covers, swaying her hips to the music.
She tugs on the hemline of her shirt, lifting it up her body and over her head.
All that’s left is a tight black sports bra.
She spins around, silently singing along to the song, hands sweeping her red hair into a mess.
The sports bra has a zipper in the front.
It’s pulled halfway down, exposing the cleavage of her enormous tits.
I edge closer, unable to resist her charms. Will I ever get a chance like this again? I’ll spend the rest of my life asking for forgiveness for my sin, but for now, I’m lost in this siren’s song; entrapped in her vicious clutches.
Enya tugs on the zipper of her sports bra, every move exposing the perfect curves of her breasts. She clasps both sides in her hand when the zip opens up fully, keeping me from the view of her perfection. Two peaked, hard nipples jut out against the fabric.
“God, give me strength,” I whisper, moving even closer.
I don’t stop until my breath condenses against her window.
Enya’s going to be able to see me this close.
The light from her bedroom washes over my body, straight down the middle.
But if she has seen me, she’s not letting on, as she releases the middle of her bra. Both cups fall away from her breasts.
Enya squeezes her breasts together in her hands, pinching at the nipples between her index and middle finger. Her lips part into an O, replaced by a devilish little smile. She spins around again, thrusting her thumbs into the waistline of her skirt.
The material of my pants torments my ever-thickening cock. I release it from the zipper, tugging it out of my boxers, but I dare not touch it. No, watching Enya is bad enough. I can’t give in so fully to the devil’s grip.
Enya bends forward, sliding both the black material and purple panties in a single motion. She takes a single step to the side, throwing her hands onto the bed. She shoves her ass into the air, giving me full display of her bare pussy.
With a toss of her head, hair whipping over her shoulder, Enya’s looking me directly in the eyes. She runs her tongue along her lips, before blowing me a kiss. She knew I was here the whole time? She put this show on for me?
What have I done?
A sudden knock on her door distracts Enya from me.
“Hey, Dad. Just changing,” she shouts in response to the knock. “Give me a second.”
I should already be running. Why can’t I?
Enya faces me one last time, while she pulls the shorts over her legs. She winks, before drawing the curtain closed.
I’m finally freed from her spell, and I run. I don’t stop until I’ve made it back to Saint Catherine’s, my cock mostly dangling from my pants the whole way home.
I’ve failed again, and this time, I don’t think there’s any way of coming back.