Reverend Cash: Let Us Prey

by Sa'id Salaam

  “I told him y’all looking for a new preacher,” Meeka tossed in.

  “We is, but we gon’ take our time finding one. It’s an important job and we gots lots of candidates. We…” she paused to look at his crotch again, “… um, what was I saying?”

  “You were talking about taking your time,” Cash helped. “I’m sure I’m the right man for the job. Just give me a chance to prove it.”

  “Well, we’ll see,” she said. She hugged her darling granddaughter before she shuffled away.

  “You wanna get something to eat?” Cash suggested.

  “I wanna get high and fuck!” she countered.

  “Me too, but let’s get something to eat first.”

  Chapter 42

  A month passed and the couple were still getting high and fucking. She reintroduced him to eating pussy and he was hooked. He’d spent half of his money on clothing and coke so something had to give. Luckily auditions were coming up for the preaching position. He made sure to put his bid in every week by testifying. He should have had this fingers crossed since he was lying.

  Another young preacher had his eyes on the prize also. Pastor Kenyatta Jones had grown up in this church and considered himself heir to the throne. He was as much street as he was church boy and he liked weed, pussy, and coke just as much as Cash. Not to be outdone he got in on the act by testifying each week as well to make sure he wasn’t overshadowed. It could go either way.

  “So… who… you… think she… gone… pick?” Cash asked in between tongue twirls on Meeka’s clit.

  “Huh? I’on know,” she replied irritated. She was on the verge of an orgasm and he wanted to ask questions. He realized his error and threw his tongue into overdrive. He licked and sucked a violent nut out her, causing her to arch her whole body off the bed when she came. He then gave her a few minutes to recover before getting back to business.

  “Probably me or that light skin nigga with the good hair,” Cash threw out.

  “Who Kenyatta? Maybe, he is a good preacher. He can fuck too,” she said since she knew both to be true first hand. “No telling with her freaky self.”

  “Who a freak, Grandma?” he asked curiously. He had a clue she was since she stared at his dick every chance she got.

  “Who? Chile please! Mother Nancy used to get it in. She don’ slowed down now that she old.”

  “Well, just how old is she?”

  “Let me see, I’m finna be nineteen, my mama is forty, so… she gotta be sixty-five or sixty-six, I believe,” she guessed correctly.

  ****

  Reverend Cash showed his ass when it came time for him to audition. He was Martin, Malcolm, and Big Daddy Kane all rolled into one. Some of the board laughed joyfully while others wept. He almost slammed the mic down once he was done. Instead he gently placed it back in its cradle and glared over at Kenyatta like top that.

  “Mph,” Kenyatta scoffed as he walked passed Cash to the stage. Two contenders walked out knowing that they didn’t stand a chance as the young Reverend Jones took a breath, took the mic, and went in.

  Reverend Cash felt smug when he left the stage but by the end of Jones’ act he didn’t feel as smug anymore. The board, as well as Mother Nancy, gave no indication one way or the other. The two would just have to wait.

  “I wanna thank everybody for coming out. Deacon Small will announce the new preacher at Sunday’s service,” Mother Nancy announced. The two competitors nodded and parted ways.

  ****

  “You better go on and get ready,” Cash told Meeka down below him. It had become a habit of hers to give him a good blow job before they hit the club. In theory it was supposed to act as Salt Peter so he wouldn’t get turned on by all the ass walking around.

  “You don’t want me to finish?” she whined. It is just plain rude to leave a dick half sucked and she didn’t want that on her conscious.

  “Later. I’ma drop you off and then make a few runs,” he replied.

  They smoked a fat blunt and snorted the rest of the coke before hitting the strip club. Usually he would post up at the bar and drink while she shook her ass for tips. Not tonight though, tonight he had church business to tend to.

  ****

  “Welp, this is either a really good idea or a really dumb one,” Cash told himself as he pulled to a stop in front of his destination. The weed, wine, and coke in his system told him that it was a good idea and so he got out and walked to the door. He reached the point of no return when he rang the bell.

  “Reverend Cash? What you doing here this time of night? Where’s Meeka? Why…” Mother Nancy rambled. She would have kept right on rambling off questions if Cash hadn’t stepped in and put his tongue in her mouth.

  The old woman went stiff for a split second then softened. She reached down and finally got a hold of that cock she’d been peeping through his pants.

  “You tryna fuck something, I see,” she said when he got hard in her hand.

  “Yes, Ma’am. I want that job!” he explained so there wouldn’t be no misunderstanding.

  “Let’s see what you talkin’ ‘bout then,” she dared and led him into her bedroom. She and the board had already made their choice but she wasn’t turning down any dick.

  The woman pulled her nightgown over her head and revealed a pair of big bloomers and an old school bra that made her breast look pointy. When she unhooked the clasp her old titties pointed straight down at her feet. Then off came the bloomers and she climbed on the middle of her bed.

  ‘Stay hard dick’ Cash pleaded to himself as he came out of his clothes. His dick must have known what was at stake because it remained rock solid. Mother Nancy had a big belly that looked like a beige bean bag chair and directly under it lay a nice plump vagina. It was old school fat like J.J Evans lips. Now that’s some Good Times.

  “The motor still get nice and hot, but sometimes it needs a little oil,” she explained when his fingers failed to get her wet. He let out a deep sigh at the thought of going down on the old lady. He would have, but luckily she had a better solution. “Run to the kitchen and grab the blue can with the white lid.”

  “Blue can, white lid,” he repeated as he set off to retrieve the item. He made sure to keep pulling on his erection as he did so that he wouldn’t lose it. With all the coke he’d snorted he had no way of knowing if he’d be able to get it back up or not. He found an item matching the description she’d given but frowned at it in doubt. This couldn’t be it. “Ma’am!”

  “Blue can, white lid!” she shouted back hoarse from sexual desire. Cash shrugged, picked up the can, and took it to her.

  “That’s it!” she cheered happily. She took a handful of the creamy shortening and slapped it between her thighs. “Now, come on!”

  “Damn it man!” Cash exclaimed as he pushed inside. As he slipped in to the hilt he realized the secret that old men already knew; that old ladies got some good pussy. All those wrinkles and folds that it had were like little fingers massaging his penis. Not to mention it was hot. The heat along with the Crisco Mother Nancy had applied could fry a chicken.

  “Mmm… you… slangin’… that… dick!” Mother Nancy admired as Cash pounded in and out of her. He kept on until she came, shaking like Jell-O.

  “Mmm,” Cash growled when his own orgasm drew near. He wanted to snatch out and put it in her mouth like he did her granddaughter but didn’t.

  “Ain’t no babies coming out of there, so do what you do,” she said giving him permission to skeet inside of her. And skeet he did, busting the best nut he’d had since coming home.

  “So, I got the job, right?” he asked breathlessly.

  “Chile, you been had the job,” the old lady cackled. “This part of the job now too since that’s how you wanted to play it.”

  Chapter 43

  “He must be waiting for you,” Meeka fussed when she pulled into her parking spot and saw Reverend Jones lurking.

  “I wonder why,” Cash frowned curiously. He hopped out and walked over while
Meeka went on in.

  “Reverend Cash,” Kenyatta said extending his hand. Once they had shook he started his speech. “You seem like a good dude. For you to be hitting Lil’ Meeka you must get high and party. I like that. As a matter of fact, I respect your hustle.

  “Thanks, but uh, where you going with this?” he asked cautiously.

  “Just wanna let you know that I got the position on lock. I’ma fuck with you though, make you my assistant.”

  “Assistant? Like a hype-man?” Cash laughed. “What makes you think you got the position anyway?”

  “Cuz I’m a smart nigga. You fuckin’ the grandbaby, but what you should’ve done was push up on ol’ girl. That’s what I did!”

  “You did?” Cash asked baffled. “When?”

  “Last night, ‘bout 2:30 in the morning. I went over there and sucked that old pussy inside out! She came so hard gobs of it was running out that box. And I gulped all that shit down!”

  “Oh wow!” was all Cash could say. He’d left her just after 2 am. “Well, that’s a bet. I like your style too. If I get the position you can be my hype — eh… my assistant.

  ****

  Deacon Small preached one last confusing sermon that sounded similar to an Otis Redding song. The congregation was thrilled to hear him announce the new pastor, but not as thrilled as Reverend Cash.

  “Thank you!” he exclaimed in mock shock. The congregation called for him to say a few words so he did. He went right up to the pulpit and thanked everybody but God.

  The good Reverend took control of the church and immediately got on the fuck shit. His first order of business was to fuck the members of the choir. It took a month for him to run through half of its members. That was only because he didn’t fuck the half that was males. That’s not to say that he didn’t want to fuck some of them too, he just knew better than to open that can of worms.

  To his dismay the church had an accountant to account for the cash in the collection plates. His dynamic preaching doubled the take in a matter of weeks, but he didn’t have unlimited access to it. However, he still took him thousands every week. The house he took it home to was a newly renovated split level Ranch on the outskirts of East Atlanta. He was also given a two year old Cadillac with all the bells and whistles included, yet he still wasn’t satisfied. With some carefully laid pipe he managed to convince Mother Nancy to approve a brand new one. With a closet full of clothes, a fancy house, and a new car under his belt it was now time to party.

  ****

  “Yeah nigga, I like your style,” Kenyatta nodded as he rode shotgun in the updated Cadillac. He took a hit of coke up each nostril then pinky fed two to Cash behind the wheel as well.

  “Argh! Shit!” he responded as the strong drug tingled his brain. “Likewise my nigga. This club better be all that!”

  “Newest in the city! Three levels. Hip hop in the basement, R&B main floor and don’t go up to the roof level,” he laughed.

  “Why? What’s up there?” Cash asked curiously. Anything off limits or forbidden appealed to his black heart.

  “Fuck niggas and dykes! Straight homo shit! I ain’t mad at the owner though for getting’ all that money!” Kenyatta said.

  “Speaking of money, you heard about that new mega church that they building over on the Eastside?”

  “The one in Lithonia? Yeah, I heard about it. Them niggas about to get rich!”

  “I know they are!” Cash snarled from jealousy. As well as he was doing and it still wasn’t enough. He’d set his sights on Greater First Baptist Church and would do whatever it took to get in there.

  “Here we go,” Kenyatta said pulling him out of his malicious thoughts. Cash followed his pointed finger and pulled in front of the club. The valet came up and took the car away as they went inside.

  “Twenty dollars please,” the hostess requested. Cash pulled out a big roll of collection plate money and parted with two twenties.

  “Well, I know you an R&B nigga, but I’m straight hip hop! These young bitches fuck quicker than them middle age broads!”

  “We’ll see about that. I got a band that says I pull us two broads quicker than you do,” Cash challenged.

  “Bet!” Kenyatta agreed and they shook hands to seal the deal before parting ways. Both men were tall, handsome, and well dressed. And each had enough cash and coke to use as bait. It could have went either way if Reverend Cash hadn’t gotten sidetracked.

  ****

  “Cognac,” Cash ordered when he reached the bar. He figured that would be a good place to start since it had a good view of the entire floor.

  Some of Atlanta’s finest thirty and forty something year olds were all dressed to impress and hoping to catch something. Everywhere Cash looked there was a woman looking back. There were plenty of successful middle aged women who had their own homes, businesses, and cars. They had their own everything, everything that is except for their own man. That’s why they were in the club.

  “Ooh, I think I’m on the wrong floor!” a flamboyant little man gushed as he came up beside him at the bar. Without looking the sound of his voice said that he was gay, but Cash looked anyway.

  “What you looking for?’ he heard himself ask seductively. A few women sighed and gave up on him when they saw him talking to the sissy.

  “Not what, who… and that would be Mr. Right,” the little fellow giggled. Cash felt the blood rush below and give him an erection. He had been trying not to open that door but it seemed to be easing open all on its own.

  “Say, Cash!” Kenyatta called from halfway across the club. He called him again, this time raising his hand to be spotted. Cash raised his too and he made a beeline over to him. “Come on my nigga. We out!”

  “Already?” Cash exclaimed looking down at his watch. They hadn’t even been inside the club a full ten minutes yet.

  “Told you how I get down! And they fine!” Kenyatta bragged leading his partner to towards the exit. There two young hoodrats in skimpy clothes stood waiting. “Tosha and Nita, this is Cash.”

  “Hey Cash!” the girls sang in unison as they were led off to slaughter.

  The foursome sat around the den of Cash’s home and smoked and drank. The men set out some coke for the girls but didn’t indulge themselves since they planned on using their dicks.

  “Let me holla at you for a minute, Nita,” Cash suggested as he stood. The girl giggled at her friend as she was led out of the room. Kenyatta had his dick in Tosha before they made it up the stairs.

  Cash stripped as soon as he got Nita in his room. She knew why she was there and quickly shed her clothes as well. She looked up and saw a semi erect dick in her face and took it in her mouth and sucked it until it was fully erect.

  “Un uh, flip over,” Cash directed when she laid back on the bed and spread her legs wide.

  “Mmm, back shots!” the young girl giggled and complied. She quickly flipped onto her stomach and arched her back. Cash reached into the small jar on his nightstand and retrieved some of its contents. The jar itself was fancy but there was plain old Crisco inside. He smeared a little on her anus and pushed a finger inside.

  “Whoa! I don’t take it up the ass!” the girl protested. She tried to get up but Cash held her down.

  “Shush!” he insisted as he forced his way into her intestines. She let out a brief howl until he clamped his hand over her mouth.

  “Mmp… hmp,” Nita screamed behind his hand and struggled furiously as he savagely fucked her in her ass. The excitement of forcing her caused him to explode in her bowels.

  “Don’t holla,” he warned and released his hand from her mouth. He quickly handed her a handful of cash when she flipped over.

  “That’s fucked up!” Nita pouted. She took the money, grabbed her clothes, and ran downstairs. “Come on Tosh, let’s go!”

  “Hol’ up lil’ mama,” Kenyatta protested. He had to speak for her friend since his dick was on her tonsils.

  The preacher and his assistant hit the clubs almost every night.
They almost always took at least one woman home with them. All the while they planned and plotted on moving up to the big leagues.

  “Boy they better pray we don’t get up in Greater First Baptist,” Kenyatta said rubbing his hands together greedily.

  “No, let them pray. Let us Prey!”

  Chapter 44

  Reverend Cash had doubled the congregation at New World Baptist in the last five years. His name rang loudly as one of the best preachers in the city. Still the riches and fame didn’t satisfy the man. Everything he did at New World Baptist was done bigger and better at Greater First Baptist Church. When he heard that the pastor was looking for a team of assistants he saw it as his way in. The Reverend Darren Sanders was hosting a mega rally at The Convention Center and he had to be in the house.

  ****

  “This shit poppin’!” Kenyatta exclaimed from their booth at The Convention Center. “It got plenty of hoes!”

  “It’s a’right,” Cash said twisting his lips up ruefully. He was in his feelings about not being able to secure a speaking slot at the conference. He just knew if Reverend Sanders heard him he would pick him to be one of his assistants.

  To make matters worse the royalty among Southern clergy walked around laced in platinum and ten thousand dollar suits. He may have arrived in a brand new Benz but there were Bentleys and Rolls Royces outside in the parking lot.

  “Damn!” Kenyatta cheered as a short, sexy, bow-legged woman walked by. She had a nasty little walk that advertised how good the pussy must be. Church function or not the women attending were sexy. “I’ma have to take one of these hoes into a closet or something!”

  “I’ll be back. I need to stretch my legs,” Cash said and set off behind the woman. He had no intention on speaking but he did enjoy the movement under her dress. He traced the panty lines hugging the curves of her ass.

  “There go y’all mama,” a short well-dressed man called out when he saw her. The two small children took off towards her as Cash kept going. He would have kept on going if he hadn’t heard something that stopped him dead in his tracks.