Paul Gruber rubbed his forehead and starred at the doodles he had jotted down on his yellow pad. There was no denying he had made the connection between Sierra Gold and Pamela Jennings, now the issue was what to do with that information. He could contact TMZ. It would get him fifteen minutes of fame, but not much satisfaction. He could send her a letter and let her know that he knew her secret. Certainly she would meet with him to discuss it, but then what?

Paul rubbed his head harder. It seemed to ease the headache coming on. What he needed was more sleep and less time staring at his computer screens. A dark thought seeped into his mind. What if I got her to agree to fuck me in exchange for keeping her secret? His conscience wrestled with the lusty idea.

There's no way she'd agree to that!

She might, especially if she wants to protect her naïve husband. He probably has no idea about her history, he thought. Information like this could cause a helluva uproar in the congregation.

Shit, Paul, you could go to jail for that. It's blackmail for crying out loud!

Not if you do it right.

He looked over at the one screen with a naked picture of Sierra. Her blue eyes sparkled back at him. Long flowing blonde hair. And big ass tits on her slender frame begging to be squeezed and sucked. Damn he wanted to fuck her.

I can do this, he thought.

Paul, don't go there, his conscience warned. You'll go to jail for sure.

He tore the top page of the legal pad off and quickly began scribbling some ideas.

X x x x x x x x x x x x

John took off his sneakers and slapped them on the cement slab outside his back door. Clumps of dark earth popped off his shoes and covered the walk. He loved gardening on Sundays after lunch. It allowed his mind to relax after preaching. It was also the most he wanted to exert himself on a day of rest. He left his shoes outside and stepped through the door in his socks. While he got himself some lemonade, he noticed Pamela sitting at the kitchen table staring out the window.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, walking over to sit down across from her.

"Oh, I was just thinking about your sermon today."

"And?" he asked.

She turned and smiled. "I found it amazing that God would tell a prophet to take a woman who had been with so many men, as his wife. It's wild that stuff like that is actually in the Bible."

He took a sip of the cool, tart drink. "Do you think it was too racy for the congregation? I'm almost positive I heard Mrs. Thompson gasp. I didn't mean to disturb the poor woman."

She giggled. "No, I thought it was pretty tame."

"Well, that's just the opening. I'm going to be preaching on what happens after they marry over the next few weeks."

Pamela reached across the table and placed her hand gently on her husband's dirt covered hand. "Do you love me?"

John looked at her quizzically. Then his furrowed brow relaxed and he put his other hand on top of hers. "Honey, I love you with all my heart. I made a vow to you, before God, three years ago and I feel even more strongly about it today."

Pamela pulled her slender hand out from between his. She stood up and walked around the table behind him. Then, she lowered her head until it was right next to his ear and whispered. "You're dirty and sweaty. Let's go take a shower..." She let the last word linger, "...together."

John's mouth opened but no sound came out.

Pamela grabbed one of his hands and led him through the family room, down the hall and into their bedroom.

"Why don't you get in the shower and wash that dirt off. I'll meet you in just a minute."

John bolted into the bathroom, tugging his clothes off as fast as he could. He stopped briefly to turn on the shower, so it would warm up, and then continued removing the last of his garments. He stepped into the shower and began scrubbing the grime off with a washcloth.

A few minutes later the shower door opened and his wife slipped in.

John's eyes widened as he took in the beauty of Pamela's naked body. They typically made love with the lights off at night. He felt his wife's body, but rarely saw her naked in the daytime.

"Wow!" Was all he could muster.

Pamela smiled, and then turned him around. She pressed her full breasts up against his back and reached around to take the soap away from him.

John felt her soft, firm breasts mash into him. He surrendered his soap and Pamela used it to begin lathering up his chest. Her small hands rubbed around his pecs and then slowly began moving lower. She stopped just above his public hair. John closed his eyes and moaned.

A flashback of her first porn shower scene popped into her head. She shivered as she recalled the scene in which a neighbor sneaks into her house while she's showering. She had her eyes closed and was lathering up her big breasts. When she opened her eyes, Tyrone Boner, the biggest black man in the business was opening up the glass shower door. He was the biggest, not only in height, at 6 foot 5, but he also had a legitimate ten inch cock. She would never forget the thickness of his enormous penis as he wrapped his muscular arms around her and crushed her slim body up against him. Her boobs pressed out in all directions against his rock hard abs as she buried her face in his granite pecs. Tyrone had reached around and grabbed her small buttocks, letting his fingers curl up into her young pussy.

At 19, this was her third film and Tyrone had specifically requested that his manager set it up. She later found out that he was eager to break in a new girl in the business. Break in had been right. She remembered walking around in pain for a week.

Tyrone lifted her in one smooth motion. Her soapy tits sliding up from his six pack abs to his hard pecs, until she was face to face with him. His dark eyes bore into hers and he gritted his teeth when he grinned. "You're gonna feel by cock in your stomach," he said in a low, bass voice.

She felt the tip of his cock at her small opening that his fingers pried apart. She was glad she had soaped up her pussy before he entered the shower. Her eyes flew open as the head of his cock entered her and he began lowering her onto his meaty pole.

"Awwww, fuuuuuck!" she grimaced. Her eyes reflexively squeezed shut.

As he lowered her further, Pamela wrapped her legs around his waist and locked herself in place.

She finally bottomed out and he left her there to adjust to his size as he got a better grip on her ass. It didn't last long. She felt his biceps flex as she moved her hands up and around his thick neck to hold on.

"You're one tight bitch," he hissed. He lifted her up so just the head of his cock was in her and then dropped her down again.

The entire scene lasted ten minutes as he continued jack-hammering into her naïve pussy. She knew it wasn't physically possible, but she swore her stomach ached afterwards from being battered inside. A few days later Tyrone's agent had contacted her agent about doing an anal scene and she flatly refused. She hadn't done an anal scene yet and she certainly wasn't going to have her ass turned inside out by that brute.

Her husband moaned as she lowered her hands to his penis, which was sticking straight up. It has half the length and girth of Tyrone's, but it did the job and certainly didn't cause her any pain. She rubbed the bar of soap up and down the length of his cock, and then dropped it so she could use both hands. One hand caressed her husband's balls while the other gently gripped his penis, slowly sliding up and down the length of it.

"Oh, oh... Pam, that feels soooo good, honey."

She smiled, knowing how much pleasure she was giving him. In her porn days she had started out trying to give her partner or partners pleasure. She put so much emotion into each scene. It took her almost a year to realize that none of the men who fucked her really cared about her. The business was about putting on a show, plain and simple.

She slid her tits down her lovers back until they rested on his cute butt. The warm water sprayed down on them and washed off the bubbles as she twisted him around. His dick hit her in the cheek. Pam opened her mouth and inserted his penis. She twirled her tongue around his shaft as she sucked him in. She felt his pubic hair on her upper lip and wondered if that was what if felt like to have mustache?

"Oh, my gosh," John cried, "This is heavenly."

Pam let his cock plop out of her mouth. "I thought you said there wouldn't be sex in heaven?" She questioned him.

"Huh?" John asked, coming out of his bliss.

"You said this felt heavenly. I thought you told me there wouldn't be sex in heaven?"

"Figure of speech, Figure of speech," he said, somewhat frantically, "Please don't stop."

She continued her teasing as he looked down at her. Pam bit her lip as she glanced up at him. "Oral sex isn't a sin, is it?"

"No, no, no," He said, catching his breath. "Nothing about sex is sinful between a married couple."

"Really?" she asked, "Because there are some things I wanted to try, but I thought you might think they were dirty."

John looked into his wife's brown eyes. His penis was less than an inch from her luscious lips. "We can try anything you like," he answered, wondering what she had in mind.

Pamela slowly stood up. She allowed her breast to slide up his body until she was kissing his neck. "Good, let's dry off and get into bed."

John was still awake an hour later. Pamela was lying next to him, asleep and breathing softly. He stared at the ceiling and relived the previous scenes again and again in his mind. His wife had asked him to stick his penis between her breasts, while she pushed them together. He had never imagined doing something like that. He had warned her that he was going to climax and she just smiled and licked her lips. His sperm had shot out across her neck and mouth. He thought she would be appalled, but instead she had laughed and swallowed his penis, licking up all the semen. After they turned off the light, she had given him a kiss and whispered in his ear that she wanted to try anal sex next.

John tossed and turned in his sleep. The little devil and angel that he imagined on his shoulders, reappeared in his dream.

"That's some hot ass you have their preacher man," the devil said.

"She's a very classy, lady," the angel replied sternly.

"There's no way to have tits like that and be a lady," the red man grinned while jabbing his pitchfork at his adversary. "I'd love to get me some of that!"

"They're married. A union between one man and one woman," the angel retorted. "Faithful to one another."

"Ha! She sure seems to know a lot about sex. I bet she's had all sorts of men. What do you think preacher? Don't seem like no virgin to me."

John woke up and looked at the clock. It was 3:23 am.

X x x x x x x x x x x x x

Pamela blew across the wispy steam rising from her coffee mug. She loved opening the office. As the receptionist for the property and casualty insurance company, one of her many jobs was opening the office, preparing the coffee and checking and forwarding any voicemails that might have come into the office after hours. She loved the stillness before the agents started rolling in around 9 am.

In a male dominated field, she relished the fact that everyone knew she was the wife of a pastor. No one flirted with her. She remembered the first time one of the agents had made an off-color comment to her. Another agent had quickly commented, "You know, Pamela is the wife of Pastor Jennings over at the First Baptist Church." The agent had stumbled all over himself apologizing.

Her husband had told her that happened to him all the time. He would be invited to golf with a member of the congregation and they would pick be put together with another random twosome prior to teeing off. Typically the two men who joined them would be cursing through the first three or four holes, until the topic would come up about what vocation everyone was in. As soon as he said, "pastor," the men would apologize and clean their language up for the rest of the round.

Pamela smiled to herself as she turned on her computer. 'Funny how people get a heightened sense of morality around religious people," she thought. 'I wonder why?'

She had already forwarded voicemails. Taking another sip of her coffee, she opened Outlook to check on her e-mails. Two were from clients wanting to know when their annual premiums were due. The third one was from a name she didn't recognize... Peter Paul.

She clicked on it to open it up. Her eyes widened.

I KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

What? Was this a mistake? A joke? She clicked on the attachment. She gasped as the image came up on the screen.

It was her... as Sierra Gold.

Shit! Her worst fear was being realized. Who the hell is it and what do they want?

"Good morning, sunshine!" One of the agents sang out as he came through the door.

Pamela jumped in her seat. She quickly closed the picture that was on her screen.

"Oh, hi, Jerry, you startled me," she said.

"Sorry about that. I guess I can see how that would happen, being here by yourself."

He continued on to his office. Pamela clicked reply on the e-mail. 'I can either not reply and see what happens or just deny it. Isn't that what the politicians do? Deny, deny, deny.' She typed out her response...

I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT. YOU MUST HAVE THE WRONG PERSON. PLEASE DON'T CONTACT ME AGAIN.

And clicked send.

She tried to busy herself with the rest of her start the day routine. Within minutes a reply came back.

YOU MADE ONE BIG MISTAKE SIERRA. YOU DIDN'T CHANGE YOUR SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER WHEN YOU CHANGED YOUR IDENTITY.

"Damn it!" Pamela cursed.

What do I do now? If whoever this was knew that, then there was no denying it.

She typed back. WHAT DO YOU WANT?

She looked nervously around the office as more and more staff and agents showed up. A few minutes later she had her response.

IF I CAN FIGURE THIS OUT THEN THAT MEANS SOMEONE ELSE CAN TOO. I CAN HELP.

It wasn't the response she thought she was going to get. Maybe this would turn out okay. She replied.

HOW?

The response only took a few seconds.

MEET ME AT THE BOONE SALOON TONIGHT AT 9PM

Pamela responded. HOW WILL I KNOW WHO TO LOOK FOR?

Three words came back to her. I'LL FIND YOU.

X x x x x x x x x x x x x

Pamela checked herself in the mirror one more time before getting out of her car. Her hair was styled, her make-up applied modestly, and her blue top buttoned up to her neck. The black, pencil skirt ended just above the knee. In every way she looked the part of a preacher's wife.

Her heart pounded as she entered the restaurant. "He's already seen me naked," she thought. Millions had... so why was she so nervous? "It doesn't feel like my life anymore, but who am I kidding to think I could have left it so easily. I made a deal with the devil and apparently he's not going to let me go so easily."

She looked around the dimly lit room. A sign indicated to 'Seat Yourself.' There were plenty of open tables on a Monday night, so she walked across the room to one in the corner. "All I need is for some busy-body in the church to overhear the inevitable conversation and then I'm really through."

"Ma'm, can I get you something to drink?"

"Sure, a glass of Cabernet would be great," Pamela answered.

She glanced nervously around the room. There were no men by themselves. The waitress arrived with her wine and she quickly took a big gulp. The smoothness spread through her body and put her at ease.

"Good evening," a familiar voice said. "Do you mind if I join you?"

He didn't wait for a response and sat down across from her. He set his beer on the table. "I'm Peter Paul."

Pamela squinted slightly, "We've met before," she stated. "Where was it?"

"The new member meeting last week. I introduced myself as Paul Gruber." He grinned at her.

"What?" She shifted in her sit.

"I just can't believe I'm having a drink with Sierra Gold."

"Shhhh," she said, looking around nervously.

"Sorry," Paul replied.

"Paul, you do understand that I'm trying to move on with a new life? That was in my past. I'm a different woman now."

His eyes widened. "I have every DVD you were ever in. You are... sorry, were... my favorite star."

"I appreciate that, I really do, but I'm the wife of a pastor now, so I'd really appreciate it if you kept this to yourself."

Paul took a swig of his beer. His eyes darted left and right. Wiping his brow, he replied.

"I'm sorry, Sierra. I can't do that."

"What do you mean, Paul?"

"I can't just make a major discovery like this and then keep it from the world. You have millions of fans out there."

Pamela leaned forward a few inches and looked Paul in the eyes. "Listen, Paul. I'm sure they've moved on to other women by now, but I want to move on with my life too. I've buried Sierra and I'd appreciate it if you would too." She watched his face for any kind of signal. It softened some, so she continued. "I'll tell you what. How about if I agree to autograph the DVDs for you? With me out of circulation, I'm sure it would make them really valuable."

His face tensed up again. He took a long swig from the beer and set the empty bottle back on the table. "I want more than that," he replied.

"Seriously?" She asked, "How much?" Pamela hoped he didn't want too much money. She had access to her out of state account, but didn't want to drain it.

"I don't want money," he replied, matter-of-factly.

"What is it you want?" The gleam in his eye gave her the answer before he said it.

"I want a blowjob from the world famous Sierra Gold."

"Paul, are you kidding me? I'm not Sierra Gold anymore. No blond hair or blue eyes. I'm Pamela Jennings, wife of PASTOR John Jennings." She emphasized 'pastor,' hoping to prick his conscience."

Paul had been trained in the first rule of sales. State your price and then shut up. He replied, "I'm not kidding."

An awkward silence pushed away the background music and chatter of other patrons. Paul could feel his heart thumping and was sure she could see his shirt moving, but he stayed silent and looked into her eyes.

Pamela thoughts jumped from one extreme to the other. Tell him to go screw himself, was the defensive answer she wanted to shout... and then throw her drink in his face. But what if he puts it out on the internet? Or the gossips at church? Or worse yet, he goes straight to John and tells him about her past. She took another sip of wine. A blowjob isn't really sex. So I won't be cheating on John. If he finds out, it would kill him, not to mention bring down his standing in the community.

"One blowjob and you'll stay silent?"

She spoke first. Paul grinned inside knowing he'd won. "Yep, that's it."

"How do I know that's all you'll want?" she asked.

Smart woman, he thought. "I guess you'll just have to trust me."

"When?"

Paul looked at his watch. "How about right now?"

Pamela motioned to the waitress. "Bring me another one," she said, holding up her wine glass. As the waitress walked off she turned her attention back to Paul. "Okay, we do it tonight. But after that you have to help me

safeguard my identity."

John stayed silent.

X x x x x x x x x x x x

They pulled into a public park and drove to the far end under some trees. John made sure to park close enough to a lamppost so he could watch her suck him off.

Pamela took off her seatbelt and turned towards Paul. "Okay, let's get this over with."

Paul held his hand up. His confidence had grown. "No, not like that," he said. "You need to do this with the enthusiasm you showed in your movies."

Pamela's eyes narrowed and she gritted her teeth. 'He has you over the barrel,' she thought. 'Just make him happy and it will all be over soon.'
Quicker than she thought possible, Pamela gave herself over to her alter ego, Sierra Gold. She smiled seductively at Paul. "I hope your cock isn't going to disappointment me," she said in a huskier voice.

She put a hand on his chest. Looking deep into his eyes she licked her lips.

"Holy shit," Paul whispered, caught off guard.

Pamela reached down and undid his belt. She opened the snap with one hand and with the other she slid his zipper down. "Lift your ass up, Paul, so I can get your pants down."

Paul obeyed quickly. His pants were down around his ankles in seconds. She looked down at his groin. A tent had formed in his boxers.

She grasped his stiffening cock through his boxers. "Wait," he gasped. "You have to take your shirt off. I want to see and touch your tits."

"That wasn't part of the deal, Paul."

"It is if you want help hiding your identity the right way," he replied.

Pamela didn't say a word. She looked into his eyes, pouting, and slowly undid each button on her silky blouse until it opened up two inches from her neck down to her skirt. "Is this what you wanted to see?" she asked, opening her top until her black, lace bra was exposed.

Paul's eyes widened at her large creamy breasts, pressed together to form cleavage deep enough to fuck.

While he was mesmerized by her actions, Pamela reached behind her and unclasped her bra. "I think was you really want to see is this," she smiled, leaning forward slightly and releasing her large orbs from the confines of the bra.

"Why don't you play with them while I see what you have for me down there," she instructed.

Paul was temporarily in shock as he watched the woman of many of his dreams reach down and fish in the opening of his boxers and pull his stick six-incher out. Her warm hand tugged on his cock, jacking him off, and the other reached up and squeezed one of her big boobs. "Ooh, Paul, your cock is so hard and big. I can't wait to wrap my lips around it."

A drop of pre-cum oozed out of his cock. Paul snapped out of his trance and reached up to squeeze her other breast.

"Yeah, that's it baby, squeeze my big tits."

Pamela let him play with her breasts as she released his dick and moved her hand down to massage his balls. 'I'll get this asshole to cum quick and be done with it,' she thought.

Paul tugged on her tits as she swallowed him up. His dick touched the back of her throat as she vigorously deep-throated his cock. Her fingers tickled the skin under his ball sac, urging him on.

Paul couldn't believe he was getting sucked off by the porn queen of his dreams. He let go of her breast and grabbed the back of her head as he thrust into her warm mouth. "Yeah, Sierra, that's it. Oh, gawd, I'm gonna blow!"

He gave one last thrust and shot the first stream of cum down her throat. Pamela kept sucking him hard, while she massaged his balls. Ten seconds later Paul was sucked dry. His cock shriveled up and she let it slide out of her mouth.

"That was amazing," Paul said, as Pamela hooked her bra back in place and buttoned up her shirt.

"Glad you enjoyed it," she replied dryly.

Paul zipped his pants up.

"A deal's a deal, Paul. I kept my part of the bargain. Now you need to keep your mouth shut and help me protect my identity better." She opened the car door and got out.

"I'll call you," Paul said as she walked away. Her ass looked perfect in her skirt as she strutted away from him. A voice spoke silently in his head. 'Are you going to let her get away without fucking her first?'

A more solemn voice countered. 'Don't even think about it, Paul. You gave her your word.'

X x x x x x x x x x x

Pamela stared up at the ceiling. Her husband breathed deeply next to her. She had mad love to him with a fervent passion a half hour earlier, trying to erase the blowjob with Paul from her mind. 'I didn't have a choice,' she reassured herself. 'I love my husband too much to be the one to destroy his career and standing in the community.'

As she waited for sleep to wash over her, Pamela heard voices battling in her head as well.

'You're a whore and that's all you'll ever be,' one said.

'That's not true, you've changed. You have someone you truly love now.'

'Ha! Love? You had another man's dick in your mouth.'

'Hold yourself together, Pamela, you can get past this. It's over now. You can get back to normal.'

'Over? He's not gonna stop until he takes you every way he can.'

Pamela slipped into a restless sleep. Half the night she dreamed about her husband holding her tight and protecting her. The other half she fought to escape from a dark room of naked men pleasuring themselves with her body.

Part 4 coming soon...