The Preachers Blonde

Erin Electra

Erin Electra,Matthias Christ

The preacher’s blonde daughter moved through the garden like a sunbeam, her hair a cascade of spun gold in the fading afternoon light. He watched from the study window, his breath catching as she paused to touch a white rose, her fingers gentle on the petals. A soft breeze carried the scent of jasmine and earth through the open window, mingling with the quiet ache in his chest. She turned, and her eyes, the color of a summer sky, found his across the distance, holding a question he dared not answer. The space between them felt charged, a silent current pulling at the very core of his being. He saw the faint, hesitant smile that graced her lips, a secret meant only for him. In that suspended moment, the world narrowed to the frantic beating of his own heart, a drum against his ribs. The weight of his collar felt suddenly heavy, a cold reminder of vows that now felt like chains. She lowered her gaze, a blush painting her cheeks, and the simple gesture felt more intimate than any touch. He knew then that this quiet longing would forever be his sweetest sermon and his greatest sin.