Whisper Hollow: After Dark – Episode 1 “The Pastor’s Son”
It started with a glance.
Jacob Whitmore had spent his entire life buried beneath his father’s expectations. Pastor Whitmore’s sermons weren’t just words—they were chains, wrapping tight around his chest and mind. No drinking. No lust. No desires but those of the Lord. His childhood was colored in modesty and restriction, his teenage years suffocated by scripture, curfews, and endless reminders of damnation.
His father believed in purity. Jacob believed in repression. And repression had teeth. It gnawed at him in the dark and quiet when no one else was watching. It built a pressure deep inside him, waiting for something-or someone—to unleash it. Something he didn’t dare name in his prayers.
And yet, here he stood, frozen outside the back gate of the Thompson property, watching Mrs. Thompson hang laundry in nothing but a short silk robe. Heavy and oppressive, the humid summer air clung to him, much like the guilt already settling in his chest. He wasn’t supposed to look. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. But temptation didn’t care about rules. Not here. Not now. Not when the afternoon sun turned Valerie Thompson into some divine blasphemy right before his innocent eyes.
Her name was Valerie, but everyone in Whisper Hollow called her “poor Valerie.” Abandoned two years ago when her husband ran off with his secretary, she became the town’s quiet scandal. Jacob had always seen her at church, sitting in the back, eyes cast low, lips barely moving in prayer. She never stayed long after service, always ducking away while the congregation gossiped in hushed tones. She was invisible and yet unforgettable in the way only fallen angels could be. People whispered about her loneliness, her fragility, her sadness. No one ever whispered about the way she looked when she stretched in that silk robe, the fabric clinging to every curve with wicked intention.
But that robe didn’t pray.
It clung. It revealed. It whispered and promised and threatened. The silk shimmered faintly in the sunlight, teasing his eyes with each step she took. Jacob’s heart pounded as his gaze trailed lower, helpless to resist the soft sway of her hips. Every movement was like a test. Each stretch and twist seemed choreographed to torment him. She was the embodiment of forbidden pleasure, and his resolve was crumbling.
Jacob’s throat tightened as Valerie bent over to pick up a fallen clothespin, the thin robe parting just enough to show the soft, pale curve of her ass. His fingers twitched at his sides. He should have looked away. He should have muttered a verse. He should have returned home and dropped to his knees in prayer, begging for forgiveness he hadn’t yet earned. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not anymore.
“You gonna stand there all day, or help me, sweetheart?”
Her voice startled him. Soft, sultry, coated in amusement, it cut through the humid stillness and hit him straight in his gut. His stomach flipped, both terrified and electrified. Her lips curved upward, and her eyes sparkled with mischief that read him too easily.
“I was just passing by,” Jacob stammered, his cheeks burning bright red. His voice cracked with tension, and the words were clumsy and thin.
“Uh huh.” Valerie turned, letting the robe slip lower off one shoulder, exposing a delicate lace strap beneath. Her shoulder glistened lightly with sweat, skin flushed from the heat. “Come on in. It’s hot out. I could use the company.”
Every fiber of his upbringing screamed no. The sermons, his father’s lectures, his carefully curated innocence. But the heat of July, the ache between his legs, and the hunger in her eyes screamed louder. She was temptation incarnate, and Jacob, despite everything he had been taught, was ready to fall. He hesitated long enough to convince himself it was innocent before pushing open the gate, the latch clicking like a final decision.
Minutes later, he stood in her kitchen, hands sweating around a cold glass of lemonade. Valerie leaned against the counter, legs crossed, toes pointed, posing like a woman who knew exactly the effect she had. The robe had mysteriously loosened even further. Her nipples pushed boldly against the thin silk, proudly outlined and impossible to ignore. Jacob tried to focus on the glass in his hand, but his eyes betrayed him every time they wandered back to her. The air grew heavy with silent expectation.
The silence between them thickened until Valerie finally broke it with a devilish smile. She stepped closer, her bare feet silent on the linoleum floor, radiating confidence and slow, predatory grace.
“Have you ever been kissed, Jacob?” she asked suddenly, breaking the heavy silence and setting her glass down. The sound echoed in the small kitchen like a gunshot, slicing through the tension and startling him into deeper stillness.
His lips parted, but no sound came out. The question made his throat dry and his mind race. Of course not. He hadn’t even dared hold a girl’s hand. His innocence clung to him tighter than any Sunday suit.
Valerie smiled knowingly. “I’ll take that as a no.”
She closed the space between them before he could form a single protest or excuse. Her fingers tangled in his hair with possessive ease. Her lips brushed his with maddening softness, tasting faintly of lemon and danger. She pressed closer, her body heat wrapping around him like a sin-scented shroud. Jacob felt pinned, not just physically but morally, spiritually.
It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t permission.
It was hunger.
The kiss deepened almost instantly. Jacob melted against her, clinging like a moth to flame. She led, her tongue pushing into his mouth with practiced, slow grace. One of her hands drifted lower, palming the hard bulge trapped in his jeans and squeezing gently. His breath hitched. His mind short-circuited. He whimpered into her mouth, the sensation far too overwhelming for his inexperienced body.
He groaned helplessly, his body betraying everything his mind fought to resist. Desire crushed any lingering objections, making him pliant in her hands.
“So hard already,” she murmured against his lips, pulling back just enough to tug his jeans open. The metallic rasp of the zipper felt deafening in the quiet kitchen. “You’re dying for it, aren’t you?”
Jacob could only nod, breathless and dazed. The battle within him had been lost the second she kissed him. He no longer felt like himself. He felt possessed, commanded by something bigger than he was. Something darker and insatiable.
Valerie sank gracefully to her knees, her robe pooling elegantly around her. The silk spread like a puddle of sin on the kitchen floor. She freed his cock without hesitation, her slender fingers wrapping around him with practiced ease. The sight alone nearly made him lose control. She smiled up at him as though worshipping his weakness.
He gasped sharply as her lips wrapped around him, warm and eager. Her mouth worked him with filthy expertise, her tongue swirling and flicking in ways he had only dared imagine during restless nights alone in his room. He clung to the counter, barely able to stand as the town widow took him so deep that her eyes watered. She moaned softly, vibrating pleasure into his shaft as he whimpered, completely undone.
“Oh, fuck,” he hissed, his head falling back. Every suppressed, forbidden fantasy came to life in that instant. Shame and desire collided violently inside him, tearing apart whatever walls his father had built, leaving nothing but primal need.
Her mouth hummed approval around him, sending vibrations straight to his core. She bobbed her head faster, saliva and hunger blending into something animalistic. Jacob’s legs trembled, his breath came in sharp, desperate gasps as he neared the edge far too quickly. He had no control. She had taken it all, and he had surrendered without resistance.
“I-I’m gonna…” he warned, his voice high and desperate, but she only sucked harder, taking him to the hilt as he exploded. His cry echoed through the kitchen, wild and raw, a boy transformed into something unrecognizable in his release.
Minutes later, Jacob came harder than he ever had, spilling deep down her throat as Valerie swallowed greedily. Her lips never faltered as she milked every last drop from him. She stayed there until he was soft and spent, her lips pulling away with a slow, wet pop. He sagged against the counter, utterly ruined, feeling like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
When she stood, wiping the corner of her mouth with a single elegant finger, her lips glistened, and her eyes burned with wicked satisfaction. There was no regret in her gaze—only triumph and possession.
“Good boy,” she whispered, leaning in to press a final, claiming kiss to his dazed lips.
Jacob left that afternoon shaky, spent, and utterly addicted. The warm air outside felt different now. He felt different now. The weight of his release, the taste of corruption still lingering on his lips, haunted him with every step. He knew that every sermon from this day forward would ring hollow, every prayer weakened by the memory of her mouth and hands. His soul felt tainted, his innocence shattered, yet… he craved more. He craved her.
Valerie watched him go from her window, licking his taste from her lips. Her eyes gleamed with certainty, and her hunger was far from satisfied.
She knew he’d be back.
They always came back.