Three tan dark-haired young men stood outside the simple suburban home, thankfully shaded by the roof, which extended much beyond the doorway.
But just as David rang the bell, smile and words ready, his brothers seemed to spot something in the distance and run to it.
"What are you-"
"Good morning." A honey-skinned brunette had opened the door, light dress flowing upon her slim figure with embroidered butterfly details.
"Good morning," he tried masking his panic, "My name is David."
"Apollonia." She smiled, her silk voice accented in a way he couldn't quite recognize.
He stumbled upon the words, lost in the glow of her skin, the shine of her chocolate waves, the depths of her golden eyes.
"God loves you, and He has a purpose for... you..."
What was he supposed to say? He's done this a million times. He knows what to say. But what was it?
"Won't you come inside, David?" she gestured, walking into her house with the door still open.
He shouldn't. Should he? This was all too tempting, and he was alone. What were his brothers doing? Were they even okay?
But what if this woman was open to His message? What if David could bring someone to Jehovah?
And he found himself sitting on her sofa.
The walls were polished wood, the carpet light and stainless. Shelves of meticulously-placed books marked a section of the room.
"Oh? Where, exactly?" the woman asked.
"What?"
"Your grandmother. You said she was from France."
"I..."
His shoes were off and out of sight, but he didn't remember removing them. He certainly didn't remember mentioning his grandmother.
"Yes, from Orléans," he was light and airy, "she and her family moved to the US where she met my grandfather, and became a Witness to God's word. He loves us all and gives us purpose as His faithful servant-"
"Orléans is beautiful. Have you ever been there?"
"No, not yet," he laughed. "But I hope to one day be blessed in that way, if it is His will, and spread His... word..."
He'd never seen eyes quite so deep, or skin so smooth.
"Where... where are you from?" he asked.
"Originally Catania, but I lived many other places before coming here," she chuckled softly.
Their eyes fixed upon each other, and breathing slowed.
He shouldn't be this close to her. He shouldn't be.
But their lips met. Sweet, soft, even divine.
Apollonia's delicate fingers slid through his black hair. Kisses trailed down his face to his neck.
He shouldn't be doing this.
But God, it felt good.
She gently bit his neck between kisses, and soon the two were nearly naked, her perky breasts in full view.
