All characters in this work are over the age of eighteen. This is the first installment of a three-part series. Please feel free to rate and comment on the story. I am always open to new ideas, as well as, constructive criticism. Thank you for reading and enjoy.

It was 7:41 pm on a particularly rainy Sunday in August. Pastor Michael Bartlett had been driving since he had left the Baptist Church in New Market, where he was a guest speaker for the church anniversary, despite the fact that very same Pastor had refused to do the same for his congregation. Michael was not the type of man who held a grudge. He was well versed in the Gospel and knew the value of forgiveness.

It was only an hour’s drive from there to his home, however, the destination felt more depressing than the weather.

He had been a good Christian all of his life. He fought against temptation, resisted the lure of drugs and alcohol, rebuked lustful thoughts, and even managed to go his entire life without once uttering a single word of profanity. Being the son of a prominent Pentecostal preacher himself, he had only picked up one vice.

He reached into the breast pocket of his two buttoned coat and retrieved a pack of Camel Wides. He only smoked two or three on his long drives and never more than five in a week. Nonetheless, he knew with no exaggerated sense of certainty, that board of trustees would tear him apart if they ever caught him smoking.

All he needed in his life was to be judged and chastised by a room filled wall to wall with hypocrites. He knew of two that were in adulterous relationships, one that spent their every night a Vixens tipping the nude dancers with scratch-offs, one fella that had been caught in a motel room with another guy, and his head Deacon, who often came to service stinking of whiskey.

Few people understood the kind of pressure that rested on Michael’s shoulders. If he was successful than it was all glory to God. However, if he was to fail then the responsibility fell solely at his feet.

At thirty-two years of age, the congregation of his church was all much older than he was. Few took his twelve years of experience in the pulpit into account when they spoke to or about him. None of these things really bothered him for long. The only thing that was strong enough to weigh on Pastor Bartlett’s heart was the loneliness he felt.

When people from the church would see him in the grocery store, they would turn away, pretending to be ignorant of his presence. No one was terribly keen on the idea of inviting him to places or events as if he was going sneak away and tattletale to God anything he saw. Not one member of the congregation ever called him to see how he was doing. Yet, if he ever once neglected to visit a member or forgot a birthday, he would be swiftly called out.

It was this cold painful solitude that would keep the Pastor out driving on dreadful nights like this one. He was never married, only dated two women in his entire life, and despite his athletic build and good looks, Michael Bartlett had not had sex since his senior prom.

Since then, he was miraculously able to resist the sins of the flesh, even masturbation, through meticulous dedication to prayer and fasting. However, as the years seem to drag on, he found it more difficult to ignore the pain he felt in the silence of his empty bed.

The Pastor had tried everything from speed dating and various apps to Christianmingle.com, none of which having a single woman within a hundred miles that desired to be a part of his life.

He had passed Stephen City exit for the second time when he finally decided to pull over a say his peace to God. Michael then pulled over, creeping to a stop on the gravel shoulder, put his truck in park, and cut the engine off. It was the first time in his life since childhood that he had stopped to ask God for something just for him.

While in prayer he spoke of the crippling depression he felt and the abysmal loneliness at its core. He then asked for evidence of his Heavenly Father’s favor. It had to be something that only God could deliver. He had spent a good twenty minutes pleading and crying in his prayer, pouring out his soul out on the altar of his heart. It was no sooner than he said amen, that he would receive his answer.

Just as he finished drying the tears from his eyes, the radio came on all by itself. He didn’t recognize the song that was playing, but he instantly felt at ease. To the Pastor, this had to be a sign from above. After all, Michael had yet to turn the key, starting the truck. Emerging from the radio’s soft chorus, a voice began to speak with a clear thunderous tone.

“Rejoice, my humble servant. For the Prophet will receive this day a two-fold blessing. He will stop to feed his horse when he will see a child of the pharaoh traveling with an eastern companion. The pair will twice refuse aid before they approach the Prophet. The Prophet shalt not refuse them for fear of kindling my anger. This blessing escort bayan mecidiyeköy I offer only to him, even as I have refused it to others. He will know the extent of my charity and proclaim it to the world. He will know the favor I hold for him.” The voice said shortly before the radio stopped.

The Pastor sprang up as if suddenly awakening from a trance. He swiftly fired up the engine trying to regain the radio feed. It was the first time since he had bought the vehicle that it started with only one attempt. He immediately turned the radio on only to hear You Shook Me All Night Long by ACDC playing instead of the divine chorus that had been on only seconds earlier.

It was when he turned the radio back off that Michael noticed that the fuel gauge was pointed to the E. This struck him as odd since he had filled the tank just after the morning services. However, he then considered that he had been driving for hours on end and had likely used up all the gas in the tank.

Winchester was only another seven miles down 81, and his home, six miles beyond that. Although he didn’t fully understand what the voice on the radio was talking about, he was certain that it was a message especially for him. That alone was enough to make him more excited than he had been in years.

He nearly peeled out as he pulled back onto the highway heading towards Winchester Virginia. Just over fifteen minutes later he pulled into the Sheetz by Jim Barnett Park. He counted himself lucky that there wasn’t a wait, because no sooner did he pull up to the pump his truck ran out of gas. It sputtered briefly shortly before the engine stopped just in time for him to put it into park.

He got out of the truck a put his debit card into the pump’s card-reader, selected the grade, and hooked the nozzle into his tank. He couldn’t help but smile when he spotted the shiny reflective letters on the side of his vehicle. The word BRONCO was spelled out boldly in all caps. He knew a bronco to be an unbroken horse, and this horse fed on petroleum.

He began looking frantically for the child of the pharaoh. However, despite the torrential downpour, there were still plenty of people out and about.

It was then that he spotted them. Two girls walking past the gas station. One was middle-eastern, the other Asian. Both girls were in their early twenties. The Asian girl was noticeably petite, with long silky black hair and pale skin. She had small perky breasts that were poorly concealed beneath a white blouse tied just above her midriff, a narrow waist, and a beautiful round butt that was wonderfully displayed in her stonewashed daisy dukes.

Because of the cool rain that left her soaking wet, he could discern that she was neither wearing a bra nor underwear. An observation, that would leave the Pastor with an uneasy feeling.

The middle-eastern girl was much taller than her friend, standing at nearly six feet tall with curly brown shoulder-length hair. She had much larger breasts. They were at least size D-cups, barely contained within her pink tank top and cut-off denim vest. She had a darker complexion with long muscular thighs and firm buttocks that were peeking out from the large holes that had been intentionally sliced into her tightly stretched jeans. He was able to see that she had a thicker waist than her Asian friend. It appeared as though she retained her natural baby fat well into adulthood.

The Pastor was struggling to refrain from staring. Both girls were beautiful and exotic, each with their own stunning features that could easily lead a man into temptation. He soon found himself setting his gaze to anything but the girls. He was a man of the cloth, and no matter how lonely he was or how carnal his cravings may have been, he had to adhere to the strict discipline of the Word of God. Just the fact that he felt it necessary to avert his eyes, was enough to fill him with worry.

It was the sound of an argument that returned Michael’s attention to the pair. A pale blue Ford Focus had pulled up to the two girls. He wasn’t able to hear exactly what had been said, but he had a distinct impression that they had been propositioned. Both ladies were visibly upset, and after a few choice words from the Asian girl, the car sped off with the driver shouting obscenities. Almost immediately after that, a maroon mini-van cut them off only for the sequence of events to be repeated.

Although Michael felt compelled to interject, he said nothing to draw attention to himself. He instead withdrew the nozzle and jumped back in his truck only to be startled by a sudden knocking on his passenger window.

“Excuse me, Sir. Hey sorry to scare ya.” The young Asian girl said with a raised voice and a smile.

“Uh… Excuse me, Yes?” Michael replied, a bewildered expression on his face.

“I hate to ask, but my friend and I are stranded. We were hoping for a lift. I wouldn’t normally ask for help, you see, escort bayan beşiktaş we got caught in the rain and can’t seem to go a block without being harassed.” She said, still smiling, but in visible distress.

Michael again remembered the message from his radio. He knew that this had to be some sort of mistake or even a coincidence. However, the girls were in trouble, now asking a man of God for aid. He couldn’t dare count himself among the Saints if he were to leave them to their fate. So, without delay, he popped open the passenger door.

“Hop in.” He said as casually as he could.

“My friend too?” she asked with a look of concern.

“Of Course, Young Lady. The back is unlocked. Y’all can both sit in the back if it makes you more comfortable.” He replied with a warm smile.

“That’s ok, we trust you.” She said as both girls climbed in sitting next to the Pastor in the trucks bench seat.

Despite being a man of faith, Michael couldn’t help but wonder if he had lost his mind picking up the two girls. The clothing that the pair were adorned in was enough to give any member of his congregation the wrong idea. In his twelve years in the pulpit, he had witnessed far more respected Pastors removed for much less. It was a danger in his calling that few people understood. It was the power of perception. If they perceived that he was engaged in any manner of serious sinful activities. It could easily result in a lifetime of service being brought to an abrupt end.

Where Michael wasn’t always happy with his life, he knew that he needed the ministry just as he needed to breathe. It was a loss that he would never be able to bear. Soon, the Parable of the Good Sumatran seems to resurface in his mind, giving him the encouragement to continue on his current course.

In his early years as a Pastor, he would never have refused the opportunity to help someone in need. Nor, would he have considered what others thought of his doing so. He reminded himself, that he had to have faith that he was protected from worldly forces when he was walking the righteous path. With this in mind, he took a deep breath and turned the key starting his Bronco.

“I’m Michael.” He said with a gentle smile.

“Hi Michael, I’m Ami. The tall Egyptian girl next to me is Rashida.” Ami said, pointing to her Arab counterpart.

“Really, Egypt?” Michael asked, trying to sound friendly.

“Yes. My family immigrated here from Cairo when I was l little.” Rashida replied with a pleasant tone.

“And, Ami, is it? Would it be rude to ask where you are from?” Michael questioned, still making conversation.

“Yup, still Ami.” She chuckled. ” I’m from San Diego, but I am Japanese if that’s what you were asking.” Ami replied with a cheeky grin.

“I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect.” Michael stammered nervously.

“It’s cool, I get it all the time. You guys all look the same to me too.” Ami said with a cheerful sarcasm. “Really we’re just grateful for the ride, and you can’t know an answer if you won’t ask the questions.” She added as she shivered suddenly.

Without missing a beat, Michael reached over Ami’s lap and switched on the heater, all while being careful not to get close enough for the girls to confuse his intentions. As he repositioned himself in the driver’s seat, he noticed that both passengers were looking right at him with coy smiles. He had no idea of what he could have done or said that would cause the girls to look at him in such a peculiar way. He soon found himself staring back with a blank look on his face.

“Did I say something wrong?” Michael inquired as he tried to break the awkward silence.

“No, we are just wondering if you were going to ask where we are headed.” Rashida replied, leaning forward in order to make eye contact with Michael.

“Oh.” Michael said with an embarrassed laugh. “That certainly would be good to know, now wouldn’t it? So, Young Ladies, where to?” He added trying his best to mask how distracted he truly was.

“We need to get to Rashida’s house in Timberville. I don’t know if you know where it is. It’s kinda far, so really, as close as you can get us.” Ami said with a visibly distressed expression on her face.

Ami wasn’t exaggerating about the distance. Michael knew exactly how to get to Timberville. It was a tiny rural town in the middle of nowhere. Most would know it as a place where you stopped for gas on the road to Harrisonburg Virginia. Michael, himself, had passed it by that very morning on his trip to New Market.

Where Timberville was only a five-minute drive from New Market, it would take him at least an hour to get there from Winchester. He imagined that even to knockout gorgeous ladies such as his passengers would have a difficult time finding someone willing to make the drive.

“Wow, that is a long way. Can I ask something of you?” Michael replied

“Oh man here we go again! And I thought you looked escort bayan etiler like a nice guy.” Ami exclaimed like a hyperactive child.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.” Michael stammered, unsure of what he had done to warrant her reaction.

“Yo Dude, I’m not sure there’s a polite method to be that way.” Rashida snapped with a hateful glare in her eyes.

“I apologize. I only wanted to know why you are so far from home. I understand that it isn’t any of my business. I was only making conversation.” Michael replied feeling both ashamed and oblivious.

“That’s all?” Rashida asked, looking skeptical.

“What else would I be asking? I’m sorry, but I really have no idea what just happened.” Michael responded.

He had just pulled out of the gas station parking lot as he could still feel the two girls staring at him, both critically, as well as, curiously. It would be Rashida who broke the silence with a loud bellowing laugh. Ami then joined the laughing almost hysterically turning beet-red in the process. Michael himself was feeling more self-conscious than amused. He tried his best to mask the frustration that he felt as he wondered if the girls were actually laughing at him. Ami soon picked up on the effect their laughing was having on their good-natured chaperone.

“Man, I’m sorry. We ain’t making fun of you. We just thought that you were that guy for a second.” Rashida stated, her scowl having been replaced with a slight grin.

“What guy?” Michael quickly asked.

“You know, Mr. Ass Grass or Gas.” Ami playfully added.

“Beg your pardon? What is that?” Michael asked.

“Oh come on! Like you really don’t know.” Ami sneered sarcastically.

“What are you, Man, a Priest, or something?” Rashida asked with visible doubt.

“I really don’t know, and for your information, I am a Pastor.” Michael responded with irritation.

“No Shit?” Rashida gasped.

“For real?” Ami added.

“Yes, my church is out on Middle rd.” Michael said curtly.

“I’m sorry Pastor. It’s been a long day.” Ami said, Rashida nodding in agreement behind her.

“Wanna tell me about it?” Michael asked genuinely concerned.

Ami sighed and took a deep breath. “Ok, so Rashida and I live in Timberville, where we both started working as cashiers at the grocery store. My car died, and we couldn’t get back and forth to work. So naturally, we were both shit-canned. Now we are being evicted. We worked a little deal out with the landlord that earned us a month rent-free, but we still have to be out tomorrow. So we have to get there tonight and grab whatever we can. I think we will end up moving here, but as of now, we have nowhere to go.” She said with haste.

“You have no family to turn to?” Michael asked.

“My parents still live in New York, I moved in with my aunt after 9/11. It wasn’t a good time to live in the city and look Arab. Anyways, Neither my aunt, nor Ami’s parents want anything to do with us. So, to answer your question, no we don’t.” Rashida answered with notable tension.

“I see… So what brings the two of you to Winchester?” He asked.

“A mutual friend told me that there was an apartment available. She also set us with a job interview at Target. We did end up getting jobs, but the apartment won’t be available until mid-September.” Ami Replied.

“Oh man, that’s got to be tough.” Michael comment, unable to think of anything of substance to add.

From what the Pastor could ascertain, he was now driving a newly homeless lesbian couple one way with no final destination. He had his beliefs on the subject of homosexuality, however, he felt that it was his first responsibility to ensure that the girls were safe. It would be God and God alone who would be in the judgment seat over man.

He couldn’t allow himself to treat those in his care with any less dignity simply because he disagreed with the choices they made. After all, it would seem that the world has been plenty cruel to them already.

He could hear Ami and Rashida whispering amongst themselves. He would catch himself sneaking little peeks at the various patches of exposed skin on each girl. He knew it was a sinful act to lust after the girls, but it seemed that every time he was able to muster up the restraint to look away, one or both of them would giggle calling his eyes back to them. He wondered why God would arrange for him to drive them.

He had a strong sense that it was not to rid them of their sexual immorality. Even as a pastor, it was never one of his focuses. He would usually try to convince people to establish a relationship with God and then allow them to attend to their own issues. He was, of course, open to council anyone who welcomed his insights, however, he always imagined himself as a lighthouse more than a rudder. He chose to be a good example, rather than the morality police.

“Hey Preacher, I ain’t slept since I got up yesterday. Would you be willing to pull over so I can crawl in the back?” Rashida asked, a bizarre smile on her face.

Michael smiled and nodded as he slowly pulled over after being only a mile off the on-ramp. He could see the Winchester Medical Center off in the distance as Rashida swiftly climbed out of the passenger side. The rain was coming down in a steady downpour as she climbed into the backseat abruptly shutting the door behind her.