THIS IS WHY I DON’T TRUST PASTORS (I fucked one)

I’m not a regular church goer now, but at a point I was. I’m just no longer a big fan of pastors and I will tell you why. A couple of years ago, I was in this church and it’s quite popular in Ghana, Africa and the world. It was just one of their many branches. The pastor was a widower and he started getting close to me when I decided to join the choir. He would let me go over to his house with him after church, meet his kids, cook for them and hang out with them. He loved to have me around and my dumb self just went with it because, “HE IS A PASTOR. I REVERE PASTORS.” One Sunday, on my way to church, this pastor called and asked me to pass by his end before going to the church premises and I did. DUMBO! I got to the house and he rushed to hug me so tightly. That was all we did and we had a cool conversation. It was nothing bad. When we got to the church premises, he made this comment before we parted ways, “you’ll make a nice pastor’s wife.” That took me by surprise and I got the hint that he was falling for me. On the 31st night, we had a service at the Independence Square and I sat by him till the service was over. After the service, I’d wanted to go home with the bus headed to my neighborhood. He asked me to wait but I refused. On our way, I got a call from him asking me to drop off on the way (Mallam Junction) insisting that he had to talk to me. I didn’t want to but I did. “HE IS A MAN OF GOD” He picked me up from there and took me to his end. When we got to the house, I thought it wise to just sleep in his kids’ room but this man refused and asked me to join him in the master bedroom and my dumb ass did. I just thought, “He is a pastor. What can possible happen?” I was uncomfortable the whole time but I just went to lie on one side of the bed and hoped in my heart that nothing would happen. But guess what? While facing the wall, I felt his hand on my exposed foot (the right foot). His fingers were rubbing lightly from my toes, upwards to my butt. On a normal day, that would’ve felt really good but that instant, I was thrown off. “What the fuck is happening?” It was even the time of the month, so it made me feel worse. I really wasn’t in the mood to entertain anything like that and he was a pastor for Christ sake. How did I even find myself in bed with a pastor?? I decided to let him know about my situation down there, hoping that it would be a good enough reason for him to not want to do whatever he had planned in mind.  I told him, “We can’t do this. I’m on my period” He shook his head and said he didn’t mind. I wondered, “How? Does he think I’m lying or what?’ I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and he kept insisting, so I just lay back and watched him. I just wanted to see how far he could go and you know what he did? He pulled down my panty and saw my bloody sanitary pad, but it didn’t stop him. Maybe he was just a bloodhound or he had a fetish. I was dumbfounded when he went ahead to eat me out with blood still oozing out of my vagina. With his tongue, he sucked me dry as though my menstrual blood had magically transformed into ketchup. Did I enjoy it? NO!! I was disgusted, so I stopped him from going further. Reader, this is something that I’m trying so hard to shake off my memory. I don’t know if you or anyone you know has ever had to go through that. It’s not a pleasant experience. The man didn’t give up. I sat up and before I could think of anything, he asked me to touch his prick and I did. I don’t know why I didn’t just get up and leave. I just decided to give him a handjob if that would make him leave me alone. While looking away, I stretched my hand to touch him like he wanted and I felt something that made my heart jump. I felt a soft mass, hanging right behind his erect dick. I looked down and got the shock of my life. I’d seen a couple of male genitals and none of them came with a scrotum so large like his. I don’t know if he had an infection but it was an eyesore. It was swollen and so large that it had covered his entire groin area, making his dick appear so small as though it was hanging from it. That scared the shit out of me and I took it as my cue to leave. I just got up and told him I had to leave. He had this begging look in his eyes and I didn’t care. I just put my panty back on and rushed out of the house, never to step foot there again. I stopped going to that church and though he would still call and want to visit me at home, I gave him the cold shoulder till he stopped. IS THAT ALL? NAH That didn’t make me stop going to church altogether. I found a new church and I loved the place. I became so active in the church and guess what? The pastor started to take interest in me too. Unlike the previous one, the new one was married with a kid but his wife was in the States, so he was alone in the country. We started talking. He would talk to me about Christ, prayers and how to be a better Christian. I kinda liked how it was going until he invited me for a three-day program in Tema which is quite far from where I live. A hotel had already been booked for him, so he asked me to go with him and help out with “God’s work.” Reader, you must be thinking that I’m just a messed up being because it looks like my first experience wasn’t enough to keep me away from pastors. The program went fine the first day till it was evening and we had to go to the hotel. We got there and I found out only one room had been booked by him. Meaning, we had to sleep in the same room till it was over. Did that make me uncomfortable? Yes, but I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was a MAN OF GOD. I went to the washroom and put on my pyjamas. In my heart, I felt it was good enough to keep him from having the wrong thoughts but hormones! They always find a way to mess things up. I went back to the room to see him lying on one side of the bed and I joined him. I made sure there was enough space between us as I was lying so close to the edge of the bed with my back facing him. “Can you move closer? I’ll like us to talk about something.” I turned over to face him and I moved closer like he wanted. We were lying face to face, but it still wasn’t enough for him. “Come here. Put your head on my chest” Like an obedient child, I just got up and lay on his chest and I felt his fingers brush through my hair. My heart was pounding, I was scared! I knew what was going to happen and I didn’t know what to do. I just lay still and the next minute, he asked me to kiss him. WOAH! “It’s happening again” I wanted to cry. I didn’t budge. I closed my eyes and pretended I was sleeping but I heard him say it again. I opened my eyes, “I can’t do this. I can’t live with the guilt”  “If you don’t let me, I’ll have to go do this elsewhere and will you be happy if it goes out and I get embarrassed? It will taint the image of the church” He literally guilt-tripped me into having sex with him and it worked. I didn’t say a word. I just let him do his thing. He caressed my shoulder and went on to squeeze my butt. Then, while holding my waist, he moved me so I would lie on my back and he pulled down my pyjamas. I just lay there numb and watched him as he spread my legs apart. He took off his pyjamas and he was hard. He bent over and tried to put his dick inside me. Was I wet? No. He realized it and tried fingering me. He did that for some time before finally shoving his dick inside me. He went in and out till he came inside me. Right after, he got up and went to the washroom. I was disgusted. I couldn’t even bring myself to get up and clean up. He got back, grabbed some tissues and wiped the cum off my vagina. I was disgusted and he couldn’t see it. He asked me to lie on his chest after and we both fell asleep. The next morning, he fucked me again. We went for the program and I watched him preach to a room full of believers. That evening, he fucked me again. We literally did it anytime we were in the room. I started liking him because he was cool. He made me know that he cared so much about me and he was willing to do anything to please me. We went back home that Saturday evening and the next day, we went to church. It was weird seeing him behind the podium, preaching. I felt so uncomfortable and was consumed with guilt. I couldn’t wait for the service to be over and when it was time, an usher walked to me. “Pastor said you should come to his office later. He needs to talk to you.” I could’ve said no. I could’ve chosen to stop attending the church but I didn’t. I was falling for him and I let myself go farther down that hole. I went to his office later that day and we fucked on his desk. I sat on it and with my legs wrapped around his waist, he went in and out of me till he came. He hugged me tightly as he came and reassured me that he would always love me. That got me! I can’t count the number of times we did it in that office. You know the worst part? My boyfriend was in the same church and the pastor knew. My boyfriend never got a hint because he was a pastor and there was no way anyone would’ve suspected it. It made it easier for us. He would always ask to see me and he would get me gifts, give me money and try to make me feel good. We fucked for a whole year and he travelled the next year. He had to go see his wife and kid. While away, it didn’t stop. Dude was with his wife, but he would still ask for my nudes. He would ask to see my pussy and my boobs and my dumb self would spread my legs apart and take beautiful pussy selfies and send them to him. I would send him pictures of my unclad boobs and we would have naughty conversations over the phone and he would masturbate to cum. He came down after a couple of months and he brought me shoes, bags and clothes. Our bond was strengthened and we fucked more until it was time for him to go back. That was when I decided enough was enough. The whole time, I wasn’t proud of what I was doing. I wished I could stop but I couldn’t. It felt as though I’d been hypnotized. I lost control anytime I saw his call or text. I really can’t explain it. I had to make up my mind. He was married. He was a pastor and I had to stop entertaining him. I decided to give him the cold shoulder and though it was hard on the onset, it got better. I became more active in church and I felt better until his associate pastor decided to move to me. HAVE I BEEN CURSED??? I saw the signs and just stopped going to that church. I didn’t have the urge to dress up and attend any church again.. P.S. THIS IS A TRUE STORY