Preview: Unknown Caller Vol. 2 (Patreon)

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Synopsis: The mysterious Unknown Caller is at it again, this time the wife of a pastor at a small Midwest church is her target, and soon Marybeth will be tongue-deep in a depraved world she'd never once imagined herself in.

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Emily took a deep breath and stepped inside, her eyes darting around nervously. It was a small room, with a desk in one corner and a few chairs on either side. The walls were lined with shelves filled with books, and there was a large window overlooking the street outside.

One item that really caught Emily's attention was the large portrait hanging over the desk—a painting of Jesus Christ.

It was all very melodramatic. Moody. Boring.

She never really liked going to church, and she was suddenly reminded why.

As she stared at the gaudy artwork, Marybeth closed the door behind them. The pastor’s wife knew this was wrong, that she should have never brought Emily up here, but she couldn't help herself, couldn’t control her growing desires.

She needed to see where this might go, how this conversation would play out in a more intimate setting.

"So," Emily said softly, turning her attention from the portrait back to Marybeth. Her voice trembled slightly as she tried to hide her nervousness. "We were talking about… sinful desires?"

Marybeth swallowed hard, her throat feeling dry. "Yes," she replied. "Sinful desires…”

“I bet you’re full of those right now, aren’t you, Marybeth?” the voice in her ear teased. She tried her best to ignore the unidentified caller who’d uprooted her life.

But it was hard.

Having another woman in her husband’s office, feeling these forbidden sensations… it felt like borderline blasphemy.

Instinctively, she bit her lip as the gorgeous blonde in her annoyingly skimpy gym clothes rested against her husband’s desk and gave her a pathetically adorable look of concern.

There was another brief pause as Marybeth averted her gaze toward the ground, before the pull of Emily’s perfect body was too strong to ignore. Her eyes found her tennis shoes, a pair of white and pink Nike trainers, up past her dainty ankles, her slender calves, her toned thighs, her shorts riding so high they were almost indecent, over her taut stomach, the subtle swell of her perky breasts, the hint of cleavage showing from the top of her sports bra, the elegant column of her neck, the curve of her chin, her soft lips, and her striking blue eyes.

Those damn eyes.

The way they locked onto hers, her pouty lips pursed, her expression worried and yet also full of desire.

God, she wanted this girl so bad. And Emily could sense it.

“I am full of sinful desires,” the pastor’s wife confessed with a whisper. "But I'm trying to fight them."