In the weeks that followed, Serena spent almost every night with me. We did little sleeping, often making love several times in the span of a few hours.

I quickly grew exhausted. Clothes hung looser on my already thin frame. I also did a poor job of fulfilling my duties as associate pastor, for I was constantly distracted by memories of my first lover. They played in my mind like an endless pornographic movie reel. I could only be relieved when the next time I visited Edna, the elderly woman made no mention of my mistaken belief that she had a granddaughter.

Still, I continued welcoming Serena into my bed. Each time, it became easier, and my guilt lessened. Of course, I prayed for a forgiveness I feared would never come. I no longer deserved God's grace when I did nothing to atone for my sins. Remorse dogged me throughout my days, but its weight grew more bearable.

As a result of Serena's guidance, I became a better lover. One evening in early November, I worked until my tongue was sore to give her multiple orgasms. She hadn't stopped shaking when I spread her legs wider so I could kiss the area between her buttocks. I noticed the way her puckered hole involuntarily clenched beneath my lips. Smiling, I dared to lap at that forbidden entrance.

"Oooh, you bad boy!" Serena rested a hand on my head. "Go on, slide a finger in there."

After sitting up, I did as she said. I took care to be gentle. In response, her sphincter gripped my finger.

"Add another," she urged.

I gave her a questioning look, and she nodded. Easing my middle finger inside, I dared to thrust both digits deeper.

"How's it feel?" Serena asked. She'd begun breathing faster while tugging at her nipples.

"Warm... and so tight!" My erection was strengthening by the second.

"Do you want to fuck my ass, Adam?"

My eyes widened, and I withdrew my fingers. I felt my face grow hot.

"That's... it's..." I struggled to voice my reservations.

"It's dirty?" she finished with a sly smile. Strands of blonde hair clung to her face, but she made no move to brush them away. "I know. And that's why you want to do it."

Before I could argue, she lifted her legs, then grasped her buttocks to open herself even wider. I stared, transfixed by that tempting orifice. 

"Come on," she coaxed. "You're already leaking precum. We'll use it for lube, along with some spit."

My cock twitched at the suggestion. Looking down at it, I found that Serena was right; a strand of pre-ejaculate now dangled from my tip. I gathered it on my fingers so it wouldn't go to waste.

"I don't want to hurt you," I protested weakly even as I smeared the fluid over her rosebud.

"It's a good kind of pain," she assured me. "I know my body's limits."

Our eyes met. I opened my mouth to ask if she'd done this before. But of course she had. I was the naive one, fumbling through my first sexual experiences. 

And there was no doubt I wanted to experience the sensation of my cock inside Serena's ass. She was giving me a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I knew. How many times had she reminded me that no God-fearing, good Christian woman would allow me to do such filthy things?

I wasn't content to dip my toe into sin. I wanted to wallow in it.

"Fuck me!" Serena demanded, making me jump. Though her voice was stern, her gaze remained playful.

In response, I leaned forward and spat onto her hole. Fearing the makeshift lubrication would trickle farther down, I rushed to kneel before her. With my tip, I pushed against her flesh. It didn't yield nearly as easily as her cunt. Gritting my teeth, I applied a little more pressure but made only the slightest progress.

"It's okay," Serena said. "Just take it slow."

The sight of her rubbing her clitoris spurred me on. As she grew more excited, her body relaxed and I was able to work most of my cockhead past her sphincter. Once my glans popped all the way inside, I could have groaned from sheer relief.

I'd started to sweat profusely, anxiety and lust waging a battle within me. My God, the feeling was glorious as I gave Serena more and more of my length!

She beamed up at me, as if I'd made her proud. As if I weren't claiming a part of her that should have remained forever inaccessible.

I forced myself to hold still when all I wanted was to thrust hard and fast. With all the pleasure this act held, even more intense was my desire to indulge in the taboo nature of taking Serena's ass. I trembled to see my cock withdraw halfway while her flesh gripped my shaft.

Looking up, I found her studying me. Her smile widened, for she must have sensed my desperation.

"I won't last," I told her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about that." Beneath her fingers, her clitoris was obscenely swollen. "Just enjoy me."

I finally surrendered to the urge to thrust. Almost immediately, my scrotum tightened up, and I was forced to slow my pace. Swearing under my breath, I tried again.

This time, Serena was ready for me. She climaxed with a wail I feared one of the neighbors might hear, and the instant I felt her rhythmic contractions, I knew I was all but finished.

A helpless groan forced its way out of my throat. My hips pumped faster until I worried I would cause her pain, but she lifted her head to eagerly watch our fucking.

"Yes, yes, come in my ass!" she said.

I could only whimper while obeying Serena's command. And when I'd finished, I didn't linger inside her until I'd grown soft. Instead, I carefully pulled out and asked her to stay in the same position.

Retrieving my Polaroid camera from the nightstand, I prepared to take several close-up photos of her anus, which now gaped open and brimmed with my semen. Though I'd just orgasmed, my cock remained hard as I preserved obscene evidence of what I'd been allowed to do.

I was careful not to photograph Serena's face, yet she still pouted and posed, looking more beautiful than any of the women in my magazine collection.

These pictures would join the others in my drawer. I'd taken several photos of Serena's tits, covered in streaks of milky fluid. I also had pictures of her pussy as my cum leaked from it. I'd now defiled her in every way possible, and on the evenings she didn't visit me, I would intensely study each image as I masturbated.

Later on that particular night, after Serena and I had soaked in a hot bath and I'd changed the sheets, we lay together in the darkness of my room.

"Is there anything you won't let me do?" I asked.

She waited a moment, as if considering my question, then said, "Nothing comes to mind."

I had to laugh, for I'd started to believe her. Still smiling, I asked another question, one I hoped she'd finally be willing to answer.

"Who are you, really?" I rubbed her back, trying to take the sting out of my next words. "I know you're not human."

Serena didn't respond for several minutes. I'd given up on receiving any kind of reply when she said, "If I were to tell you the truth, you'd no longer love me."

I bristled. My hold on her slackened. "I... I never said I love you."

Her voice betrayed no doubt as she insisted, "But you do, Adam. Already."

*****

I knew it couldn't continue this way. I couldn't be an honorable, devoted pastor by day while fucking all of Serena's holes by night. A long time ago, I'd read about cognitive dissonance, and I now recognized it was wreaking havoc on my life.

So I wasn't surprised when Michael asked to speak to me in his office on a Wednesday afternoon at the beginning of December. 

At fifty, the senior pastor was gray-haired and burly. He had a boisterous laugh that proved contagious among members of the congregation. I'd always admired his devout commitment to God and the church.

Once Michael sat down in his chair, and I took a seat in front of his desk, he leaned forward with his hands clasped together.

"Something's troubling you, Adam."

I ran a hand through my hair, fumbling for an excuse. "I'm sorry. I've just been tired lately. Maybe it's the time of year, or the weather..."

He shook his head. "It's more than that." For a long moment, he studied my face. His expression wasn't unkind. "The last time I asked you to deliver the sermon, you chose the topic of temptation..."

"I apologize if I was out of line," I hurried to say. "It was a spur-of-the-moment decision."

"Something you're having a personal experience with right now?" He lifted his eyebrows expectantly.

Rising panic left a sour film in my mouth. Had someone glimpsed Serena coming and going from my house? Or did Michael know me well enough to sense I was struggling with inner demons?

Perhaps just one demon.

"I..." Swallowing hard, I tried to force out another excuse, but Michael's eyes were so full of compassion that I discovered I couldn't deceive him. My shoulders slumped as I bowed my head, unable to meet his gaze. "I've met a woman. You don't know her," I quickly added. "And I... I can't resist her, Michael. She and I, we've gravely sinned." I stared down at my hands, waiting to be condemned.

Instead, Michael asked in a gentle tone, "Do you care for her?"

I snapped my head up. That was the last question I'd anticipated. Now, I floundered again, tempted to compound my sin by lying.

And again, I couldn't.

"I do," I finally replied.

Michael nodded. "Do you feel it would be helpful if you invited her to the church? Would she be interested in becoming a member? I'd be more than happy to counsel you both."

The thought of Serena playing my wholesome, doe-eyed love interest here at church would have been funny if it weren't so appalling. 

"She's, uh..." I stammered, my face flushing hot. "She's not religious, I'm afraid. I've tried to talk to her about my faith, but she's not receptive."

Michael frowned. He must have been perplexed over why I'd become involved with a woman who denied Christ's teachings.

"Then you have a choice to make." He leaned back in his chair, examining me as if I were a puzzle he wanted to solve. "You can invite her here and allow me to meet her. Maybe I can persuade her to be more receptive to the church's message. If so, you two will agree to make every effort to live as Christians who follow the Scripture. The Lord will forgive you for your sins." Michael smiled while adding, "And I'll officiate at your wedding."

I inhaled so sharply that I ended up choking on my spit and suffering a brief coughing spell. My shocked reaction made Michael laugh, but once I recovered, he grew serious, almost stern.

"Or, if this woman refuses to open her mind and heart to our faith," he went on, "you should end your romantic involvement with her. You cannot continue that kind of relationship with someone who will not hear the word of God."

I knew he was right, even as I knew I didn't have the strength to do what was required of me.

Again, Michael seemed to intuit my thoughts. "If you find you can't end the relationship..." He paused, seemingly reluctant to finish the sentence.

"Then I must leave the clergy." My voice was little more than a croak.

The senior pastor appeared taken aback that I would speak those words.

"Surely it won't come to that," he said softly. "But you need time to think on this. I'll take care of your duties here at the church for the remainder of this week. On Sunday, after the service, you can let me know what you've decided."

Before I left Michael's office, he and I prayed together. The longer I listened to his intonation, the more distressed I became, until I was fighting back tears.

Finally, the pastor drew me into a hug. "I know you'll find your way back to us," he whispered.

I trudged home, my coat failing to ward off the late autumn chill. My eyes continued to sting, and I feared I would break down right there on the street.

Inside my house, I found Serena waiting. I still hadn't figured out how she entered without a key.

"How did it go?" she asked, though I hadn't told her anything about my meeting with Michael.

I gazed upon her standing there in my living room. She wore a lavender dress with a modest hemline. It was an outfit more suited for spring than fall, but Serena had never dressed for the season.

I wanted her so much that the desire manifested as a terrifying ache in my chest. Losing all strength, I dropped to my knees.

"I can't keep doing this," I choked out. "I can't keep living a double life. It's wrong, what we've done. I have to stop seeing you so I can repent and redeem myself in the eyes of God."

A sob wrenched free of my throat. When Serena drew nearer, I held up a hand to stop her approach.

Yet she soon stood directly before me. The feel of her fingers stroking my hair drove me to bury my face in the front of her dress.

"For so long," she began in that soothing voice I craved, "you've tried to deny your natural urges. You've asked God to relieve you of the burden of desire." She knelt as well, and I allowed her to cradle my face in her hands. Her stare was entreating. "Has he answered any of your prayers, Adam? Isn't his silence the final word?"

I blinked at her in astonishment. How could she say such a thing? How could she doubt the grace of God?

But I turned her words over in my mind, examining them from a different point of view. And I realized she was right: I'd never been blessed with any kind of answer to my prayers. I was neither condemned nor forgiven. I was simply left to grapple with my guilt and shame.

Even if I found the strength to deny Serena, I could never banish my doubt. It was now a fixture in my mind, just as my sinful longings were.

My sobs morphed into wails. I couldn't remember a time I'd cried so hard, to the point of being sick.

Serena pulled me into her arms. I relaxed into the sensation of her rubbing my back and pressing her lips to my hair.

"Lie down with me," she said. "Let me comfort you."

In my bed, our lovemaking was the kind I'd once dreamed of sharing with my future wife. Now I couldn't imagine this with anyone but Serena. 

Afterward, while I held her close, she took a deep breath and then began to speak. "You're right. I'm not human."

My heart started pounding so hard that I thought it would knock itself free of my rib cage. Yet I forced myself to stay quiet and listen.

"I take from you only enough to sustain myself," Serena went on. "But what I take is mine to keep. If you make a place for me in your life from now on, you'll age a bit faster than you would have otherwise. I promise I'll always be careful not to harm you, and you can continue having all of me." She lifted her head to meet my eyes. "I can't tell you any more. Can you accept not knowing everything?"

At that moment, she looked so incredibly vulnerable. I knew she was trying to be fair, to reveal as much as she could before I made my choice.

I lowered my mouth to hers for a deep kiss. 

"I can," I whispered against her lips. "And knowing what I do, I still love you."

Epilogue

"I fear this woman is leading you astray, Adam."

I stood in Michael's office after the Sunday service, having just told him of my decision to leave the clergy.

Holding out my hands, I said, "I was never on the right path. I'm not meant for the ministry."

He pursed his lips and shook his head. "You're making a mistake. You of all people know what the Bible says about backsliders."

"I can't live a lie!" I cried. "I'm in love with her even though she refuses to convert. She has no interest in marrying me."

Michael recoiled at my words. I realized nothing helpful could come from this discussion, so I tried to veer it toward more practical matters.

"I'll be glad to stay on through the holidays," I said. "I know it's hectic at this time of year."

"No." The senior pastor's voice was firm. "Your work here at the church is finished. You'll need to vacate the house by the end of the month."

We shared a goodbye that lacked all of our former warmth. I'd abandoned my life's calling, and now I felt I was losing one of my closest friends. 

But it wasn't enough to persuade me to stay.

Back at home, I told Serena the news. "I've lost my livelihood. I'll have nowhere to live. Being a pastor is all I know."

She didn't seem at all concerned. "I'll provide for you," she promised while caressing my cheek.

And she did. I was shocked when just a week later she presented me with more than enough cash to cover my needs for the foreseeable future.

"Where did you get this money?" I asked.

She merely shrugged. "I have my ways."

In January, I moved away from that town, and Serena followed. That fall, a year after she and I met, I returned to school and eventually earned my PhD. I became a professor at a small college, where I taught courses in religion. 

As for my personal beliefs? I resolved to be an agnostic, though I occasionally found myself reciting the Lord's Prayer when I was in need of comfort.

Serena and I never married; we didn't even live as a couple. She came and went, just as she always had. Even when her absences stretched over several days, I knew better than to question her whereabouts. I understood I'd never be privy to that part of her life.

During my tenure at the college, I wrote a scholarly tome that became renowned in certain academic circles. It was the product of years of research, and in it, I explored the various myths of woman as seductress, as harlot, as vampire, from ancient times to modern day. I took care to point out the misogyny in many of the old legends.

But while immersed in my research, I learned of a creature that immediately made me think of Serena.

The succubus. A seductive demon that fed men's lust while siphoning their energy.

Of course, I never asked her about it. I never pointed out all the similarities between her and the entity described in folklore. Still, I wondered how long her kind had walked the earth, fulfilling the desires of mortal men and taking sustenance in return.

Many years later, when I was gray at the temples and softer in the belly, and Serena was as youthful and radiant as ever, she allowed me to see her true form.

I wasn't permitted to turn on the bedside lamp that night. "You'd find me hideous if you saw me in the light," she warned.

I prepared myself as best I could. While she and I lay together in the darkness, I dared to extend my hand.

Under my palm, she was damp and slippery. Her body was no longer that of a woman but a serpent-like being. When I tried to grasp her more firmly, she slithered away, farther beneath the covers and beyond reach.

I didn't pursue her, for I knew the dawn was near, and in the light of day, Serena would again be the woman I loved.

Older now, and a bit wiser, I understood it was best that she keep some of her secrets.