[Disclaimer] Everything Twilight belongs to Mrs. Stephenie Meyer

[A/N] I'm not sure what to do with this little plot bunny down there. Hope you'll enjoy reading it a bit.

**1**

Isabella Marie Masen was a young woman who had never found it difficult to resist the sin. She had never felt tempted to drink a glass of liquor, never wanted to try smoking when someone back at school had offered her a cigarette behind the gym building and her interest in losing her virginity had been barely existent before she had met her later husband.

Edward, although he had been a good Christian had tried to seduce her rather awkwardly before their wedding night during several times, but she had always refused him. Sex just wasn't of any importance to her and even after the two of them had been married, she never really developed a true interest in anything physical that was going on behind the closed door of their bedroom. She gave birth to a cute pair of lively twin boys that kept her too busy to actually grieve after her husband had died during a car accident a year ago. It was the love for her kids and the support of her church community that had helped her to make it through the first endless seeming dark months since the police had knocked on her door to tell her that her husband wasn't coming home for dinner that night.

Her life had taken on some sort of routine, repeating itself over and over again. She worked from Monday to Thursday part-time in the library, followed by a busy day of housework and grocery shopping on Friday. Each Saturday afternoon she would try a new recipe for a delicious cake that she would share with the other women after the church service on Sunday morning. That had most likely been her favorite part of the entire week but of course now, everything was different. It was different because of her.

Reverend Weber had suffered a stroke and was currently recovering in a hospital in Atlanta. The doctors had already broken the news to his wife and their daughter Angela that he would most likely never be able to regain his motoric abilities completely.

So, about two months ago a new Reverend had been sent to replace the kind, grey-haired man in the small Community. Royce King was a tall man with a constantly hoarse voice. Rumors spread quickly that he had an unhealthy preference for alcohol but Isabella wasn't the kind of woman to listen to gossip. Her beloved church service had turned into pure torture for her though but it had zero to do with the way the new Reverend handled things.

Isabella couldn't stop starring at his wife, no matter how hard she tried to. Rosalie King was the prettiest being under sun to her. She had known this in the first moment she saw her. Her long blonde hair covered her back in thick curls that reflected the sunlight in different coppery shades when it fell through the windows of the church building. The fabric of her dress hugged the gorgeous curves, exposing maybe a tiny bit too much of the slim thighs than it was appropriate.

What sure weren't appropriate were the thoughts that kept rushing through Isabella's mind while her mouth mechanically formed the familiar prayers during the ceremony. She wanted to run her fingertip over the glossy shimmering bottom lip of the Reverend's wife. She wondered how it would feel like to touch her mouth against the fullness of Rosalie's lips. Isabella wanted to know how it would be like to massage the other woman's breasts in her hands, to make the sensitive tips harden through her gentle caress.

Isabella knew that it was wrong to have desires like that but she couldn't help it and in an attempt to fight the emotions in her she tried avoiding being alone with the beautiful blonde at any cost.

So, when she found herself in Jessica Stanley's kitchen after today's ceremony, and Rosalie's curvy hip touched her side, she almost fainted.

"Did I startle you? I'm sorry."

Even the sound of her voice made Isabella's body tingle from head to toe. She was going to lose it and she sent a quick prayer up to God, asking him for help. She didn't want to have these feelings about the Reverend's wife; it was a sin, probably an unforgiveable one.

"Isabella?"

"It's ok," she whispered barely audible. "I was just in thoughts."

"Jessica asked me to get some more napkins while she's feeding the baby. Do you know where she has them?"

"Cupboard on the left side,"

When she leaned over to pull them out, Rosalie's backside touched Isabella's forearm and a current went straight to her core, soaking the cotton of her underwear within seconds.

"Why don't you like me?"

"What? That's not true. Who told you that—Jessica maybe?"

"No one needs to tell me what is obvious to myself, Isabella. You are barely talking to me at all. I really would like to know what I have done to you. Have I angered you somehow?"

"No. No, you haven't. I'm sorry if I gave you that impression."

"Your face is all red now. I don't think I ever made another girl blush before. That's a new for me."

"It's just a bit too warm here. Mike has probably tried fixing the air conditioning by himself. That's not something he's too good at."

"At least she has a man who is attempting to take care of such things. How long has your husband been gone now?"

"Fourteen months, next Tuesday."

"I'm sorry for your loss. It must be hard to raise the boys without their father."

"We'll deal with it. Thanks for your concern."

"I could babysit for you, should you ever feel the need to have some time to yourself."

"I'm sure you have a bunch of other stuff to deal with. But thank you for your offer."

"You really don't seem to like me. I just don't understand why. What have I done wrong?"

"Nothing, it's not you. It's me. I can't stop…well, just forget it. It's too embarrassing."

Rosalie sighed deeply, cupping the brunette's jaw between her thumb and her forefinger.

"Tell me, whatever it is I can deal with it. Most other women don't like me too much and I assume it has to do with the way I look. I don't want to sound vain, but I know I'm quite attractive."

"You are pretty, prettier than any one I have seen before. I can't stop looking at you."

"So, can't you?"

Rosalie's mouth was now directly above Isabella's and a split second before they touched each other, the blonde turned her head to the side, planting a kiss on the brunette's glowing cheek before she walked out of the kitchen again.

The entire following night Isabella kept tossing and turning around in her bed, trying to fight the urge to slip her fingers underneath the fabric of her underwear. Her clit was throbbing and the visual in her mind about Rosalie's breasts pressing deliciously against her own wasn't helping one tiny bit. Eventually she gave up and the feeling of velvety wetness against her fingertips when she started touching herself intimately made her gasp a suppressed moan into the pillows around her. She rubbed her outer lips, caressing every inch of her sensitive folds before focusing her attention on the pearl above her entrance. Cupping her left breast in her free hand she squeezed the tip between her fingertips, to massage it gently. She wanted to touch the beautiful blonde as she was touching herself but of course Isabella knew this was impossible. Would she like it when she circled her thumb over her clit? Was she bare down there or was her sex covered in short blonde curls? Isabella wanted to see the object of her desire naked in front of her and she wanted to kiss every inch of the pearly skin to taste its saltiness.

Rosalie King was a good Christian woman though, unlike herself and would probably faint should she ever find out about the sinful thoughts Isabella was having about her while she was pleasuring herself. Oh, how heavenly it could be if she could close her lips around the tip of Rosalie's tongue to suckle it gently. All Isabella wanted was just one single kiss, to find out if it would be that much different from kissing a man. God would sure forgive her if she would just pray enough afterwards to show her regrets. He would. Wouldn't he?

The brunette increased the movements between her thighs, stroking the pulsing clit while shoving two of her fingers inside her soaked sex. She whimpered and groaned as her inner muscles clenched around her fingers. The intensity of her release made her body tremble and when she managed to catch her breathe again, the guilt about the wrong she had just done cramped sourly in her heart.

She stood up from her bed, pulling her damp panties down her calves to throw them into laundry basket before rushing into the bathroom to step under the shower. The warmth of the water was refreshing but Isabella knew that there wasn't enough water in the entire world to clean her mind from the dirt in her thoughts.