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Several months ago, I posted a story about a pair of minister’s wives, Shelly and Laurie. I hadn’t intended to add another chapter to the initial story but I subsequently decided that I wanted to pursue Shelly’s story further so I am posting this sequel. Since it has been a while since the first story ran, I am including a bit of back story to introduce the key characters from the prior story.
The two women grew up in a small town in Mississippi. Throughout school Laurie had been one of the bad girls, doing virtually everything her mother and father told her not to do, and Shelly had been one of the good girls, carefully following the rules she was given. Nonetheless they were close friends. However, Shelly was always careful to say no to Laurie’s inappropriate proposals. After high school they had gone their separate ways, with Shelly continuing to scrupulously follow the rules of a good girl and Laurie continuing to break all the rules and suffering the consequences until the next rule breaking opportunity came up. Years later the two women, who were by this time each married to a Baptist Minister, met at a Southern Baptist Convention conference. Just because she was who she had always been Laurie set out to seduce Shelly. For the first time in her life Shelly didn’t turn down Laurie’s proposal, allowing her friend to introduce her to the joys of lesbian sex along with the pleasures of marijuana and vibrating sex toys. After their lust filled reunion, the women returned to their hometowns: Laurie to Los Angles and Shelly to Richards Branch, a small town in Alabama. Shelly came away from her lust filled encounter with Laurie thinking that perhaps she too was now one of the bad girls. Her husband, Sam however was straight as an arrow, his only possible fault being an all-encompassing ambition to rise higher in the Southern Baptist Convention than simply pastor of a small-town church. Sam showed no interest whatsoever in sex, with Shelly or anyone else.
Shortly after she returned from the Nashville religious meeting Shelly had received a care package from Laurie. The box contained the panties Shelly had left behind in Laurie’s hotel room (now freshly laundered), a small bullet vibrator, and a supply of cannabis laced candies. Shelly immediately tucked the undies, which looked just like her other white cotton undies, away in her garment drawer. Then, because she had several hours before her husband Sam was due home for dinner, she chewed up one of candies. When it kicked in Shelly suddenly had other priorities than fixing her husband’s dinner. She stripped off her clothes and lay naked on her bed using the vibrator to bring herself to three lovely orgasms over the next two or so hours. They weren’t as good as the wild orgasms Laurie’s fingers and tongue had driven her to a couple of weeks earlier, but they were certainly better than anything she was getting from her sex averse husband. She sighed saying softly, “Masturbation is okay, but sex is so much better when there is another warm passionate person participating. But Laurie is in LA and Sam is like making love to a dead fish. He just isn’t interested.”
Dinner was late that night. In line with her new self-image as one of the bad girls Shelly lied to her husband about the cause of the delay, telling him the only chicken she could get from the market was frozen and had to thaw before she could cook it. He merely shrugged and retreated to his armchair to read the latest issue of the Southern Baptist Convention’s national weekly newsletter.
As she prepared their dinner Shelly found herself annoyed at her husband’s indifference. “What if I had told him the truth,” she asked herself. “That I spent the afternoon getting stoned and masturbating. Would that have brought him to life?” She smiled at the thought. What would his face look like, she wondered, when I just came out and told him how I spent my afternoon? That’s a ridiculous idea. I think I’m still a little stoned from that gummy Laurie sent me.
Shelly was more than a little stoned. Not stoned enough to tell Sam what she had been doing all afternoon, but still stoned enough so that when she put the chicken in the oven she retreated to her bedroom where she pulled up her dress and pulled her panties off. She thought about shedding her bra also, but she knew her full breasts would swing and jiggle as she put dinner on the table and she wasn’t quite stoned enough to risk Sam’s wrath for what he would have thought ‘shameless exhibitionism.’ But Sam wouldn’t know about her naked pussy. Her long dress would keep it well hidden. As she walked back to the kitchen, she felt the cool air on her wet pussy. She smiled, mildly surprised at how quickly she had become aroused, while she thought, “Mmmm, this will be just like when Laurie and I were sitting with those old biddies at the Baptist Convention luncheon without our panties.”
As she stood before the sink washing veggies, she remembered that at the luncheon she and Laurie had been playing with each other’s pussies under the table. Ankara escort “Too bad that won’t work tonight,” she said to herself. Then a dirty thought leapt into her mind, “Hmm, Laurie’s not here, but this dress I’m wearing has buttons down the front. I can open a couple of them and reach in and play with my pussy. Not as good as Nashville, but still so deliciously naughty. Sam will never know.” She felt a surge of lust rush through her loins at the thought of masturbating during dinner while she was sitting across from her oblivious husband. “But I can’t let myself cum,” she told herself. “He surely would notice that.”
By the time Shelly got dinner on the table, her pussy was dripping. “How can I be this horny when I made myself cum three times this afternoon?” she asked herself. As soon as she sat down, she reached under the table and opened two buttons on her dress to give herself access. Sam of course was unaware of any of this. Shelly, her dress opened and legs lewdly spread looked across the table and asked Sam, “How was your day today?” As she spoke, she let the forefinger of her left-hand slide between her swollen labia. It felt wonderful, but she just did it once before she brought her hand back above the table. It was so nasty, so dirty, so sinful, so scary, and so, so, delicious. She could feel her pulse rising in response to her excitement.
“Oh, it was okay,” Sam responded. “I spent a bunch of time on the phone with a couple of the administrative guys from Nashville. They say old man Richardson is getting ready to retire. That’s going to open a bunch of opportunities up there.” He then launched into a long description of what was apparently several hours of telephone gossip he had had during the day about possible opportunities in Nashville.
Shelly had cut the chicken breasts she served up before plating them so she only needed her right hand to eat dinner. Her left hand furtively crept back under the table, through the opening in her dress made by the buttons she had released and back to her lustful pussy. As Sam droned on, she slowly masturbated, but with restraint. Her fingers slid between her swollen labia stroking the sensitive flesh behind them and occasionally dipped into her dripping cunt, but only briefly. And she was careful not to touch her clit. She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted… to rub her clit and bring herself to the climax that she could feel lurking in the shadows. But she knew she couldn’t do that. As aroused as she was, letting herself climax would release an emotional and physical storm that would be impossible to hide. So, she just kept herself at a low boil, stroking her pussy, and massaging her cunt, but not deeply. She was well and truly aroused but not close to the edge of a climax. It was there, the climax. She could feel it hiding in the shadows, threatening to emerge if only she would let it. But that wasn’t her objective just now. Shelly was enjoying the sheer nastiness of what she was doing–sitting at her dinner table opposite her oblivious husband, naked beneath her dress as she played with her pussy and kept herself at a low boil. She even joined in conversation with Sam, not that her input was necessary because Sam was a person who could listen to himself talk endlessly, marveling at the wisdom of what he was saying. Nonetheless Shelly was enjoying the challenge of asking a coherent question now and then about some element of the mindless gossip Sam was repeating. What a thing to do–ask your husband a dumb question about his stupid monologue while you had a finger in your cunt!
Occasionally Shelly would retrieve her left hand from beneath the table. It wasn’t really necessary. Sam was so wrapped up in his monologue, that she could have kept her hand beneath the table molesting her sex all evening and he wouldn’t have noticed. But she had a motive. Each time her left hand returned to the table she picked up her water glass and raised it to her lips for a drink. And each time she savored the smell of her leaking pussy on her fingers. How nasty. The aroma made her think of eating Laurie’s pussy during their debauchery in Nashville. She supposed that the room reeked of her sex, but Sam wouldn’t notice. He never got close enough to her pussy to even know what it smelled like. He probably thought it was some odd seasoning she had put on the chicken. She laughed at that idea, but not aloud.
As dinner continued, Sam droned on, and Shelly became bolder, releasing two more buttons on her dress and inserting two fingers into her dripping cunt. She even dared to touch her G-spot, just briefly. When she managed that without gasping so Sam noticed, she returned her hand to the table for another sip of water and to continue savoring her aroma. She asked Sam another mindless question which launched him into another branch of his monologue about his day. Assured that Sam was now safely enmeshed in his own world, she calmly returned her left hand to the part of her world she was enmeshed in. Sliding two fingers deep into her cunt ankara rus escort she sat smiling with interest at her husband while her fingers pressed firmly on her G-spot. She wasn’t in danger of cumming, but she was so fucking horny. The food was a bit plain she thought, but dinner was delicious.
They cruised like that for almost twenty minutes, Sam chattering mindlessly and Shelly abusing herself shamelessly and slowly building a need to climax. Like all good things it eventually had to end. It wasn’t that Sam ran out of things to talk about or that Shelly could no longer contain her need to climax. The problem was that the two of them had eaten everything she had put on the table. They no longer had an excuse to sit across from each other, Sam talking endlessly and Shelly masturbating shamelessly.
“Well, I guess we better do the dishes now,” Sam said, (meaning of course that Shelly should do the dishes. The kitchen was terra incognito for Sam).
Shelly began fumbling with the buttons on her dress, desperate to get them closed before she had to rise from the table. My god, she thought. I hope I haven’t soaked the back of this dress. I didn’t think about that. But she was saved by Sam, who rose from his chair and announced he was retiring to his den to work on a sermon for the coming Sunday. There was a bed in Sam’s den and he slept there most nights. For all practical purposes they had separate bedrooms after only ten years of marriage.
Shelly sat watching him go relieved at first and then desperate for the relief the climax her body was demanding would bring. She leaned back in her chair shaking her head, “What the fuck was I doing?” she silently asked herself. “It doesn’t matter,” she responded. “He’s gone to his den and won’t come out until he is ready for bed.” She bit her lower lip and said, “I know what I’m going to do now.” She put both hands beneath the table and ripped open the buttons she had just closed along with the rest of the buttons down to the hem of the dress. In her rush a couple of the buttons tore from the dress and skittered across the floor. Spreading her legs obscenely she resumed her masturbation, but now she was focused on her engorged clit. She wanted the climax she had been putting off all through dinner. Knowing it would be a big one, Shelly grabbed a napkin and stuffed it between her jaws. Wanting to feel even more wanton she pulled both feet up and put her legs on the table. She spread her knees as far as possible, the heels of her shoes pushing the dinner plates against each other on the table with a clatter. Now I can finish this she thought. She drove three fingers of one hand as deeply into her cunt as she could get them and used the thumb and forefinger of the other hand to pinch her erect clit. That did it She tipped over into a wild climax that tore through her entire body in wave after wave while the napkin clenched between her teeth stifled her scream. Her legs shook wildly and her feet pushed the dishes about with a clatter that sounded like she had dropped them. Sam, deeply engrossed in the draft of his sermon, didn’t notice a thing.
As her climax wound down, Shelly collapsed in her chair, her legs still spread obscenely on the table and her lungs gasping for breath. She pulled the soggy napkin from her mouth and whispered, “Fuck that was good.” Once her breathing recovered and her heartbeat felt like it had returned to something closer to normal, she pulled her legs down and walked tottering on her food smeared heels into the kitchen, carrying the dinner plates. She looked down at her dress, still open from waist to hem, and noticed it was soaked with her juices in several places. “Hmm, what will I tell Sam about these stains if he comes in? Don’t worry about it. He won’t come near the kitchen while I’m doing the dishes and if he does, I’ll just make up a lie about the spray nozzle on the sink going wild. I suppose I should button up my dress. But fuck it. He won’t come in… Wow that was a great climax.”
Once the kitchen was clean Shelly wandered out to the back porch. It was a warm pleasant night and she didn’t want to go up to bed until she was sure Sam was asleep. She stretched out on an old chez lounge, her legs spread wantonly on either side and her dress still unbuttoned to her waist. The moist, warm Alabama air felt good on her naked and abused pussy. She didn’t feel a need for more masturbation. Her sex drive was fully satiated for the moment. She simply wanted to lay out in the back and think about where her life was going.
“Well,” she told herself, “By most peoples’ standards I’m doing fine. I’m married to a successful Baptist preacher who is growing a successful church and has ambitions to someday move up in the hierarchy of the church. There are a lot of women who would like to be in my position and I am certainly meeting all the standards I was raised with.”
“But…” she said. “There is one big but. One flaw in my situation and it’s not one I can ankara türbanlı escort talk about, at least not in polite society. I could talk about it with Laurie, but she’s not ‘polite society.’ My problem is my sex life, or put more precisely, my lack of sex life. My tryst with Laurie was an eye opener that showed me how much of my life I am missing living with Sam. Oh yeah tonight was naughty and fun, but I’m sure there is much more to a good sex life than masturbating while your oblivious husband is ignoring you. Sam has no interest in sex or much of anything else except his career in the church. My god, he is boring.”
She chuckled. “This evening was fun though. I’m certainly going to do more of that. Oh, and I like that gummy Laurie sent me. When I run out of those, I will have to get her to send me some more.” And for a few months, that was exactly what Shelly did. She carried out her duties as the wife of Pastor Sam with skill and diligence, but when there was time, which was frequently, she would down a gummy or a part of a gummy and let herself drift off into a delightful daze while she masturbated herself to a climax. Laurie kept her supplied with care packages which contained more gummies and a variety of sex toys that filled up her sock drawer. She particularly liked a pair of vibrating panties that she could wear while preparing dinner, and even during dinner, with the vibrator set on a low speed that kept her aroused but still functional.
And then something changed. The source of the change wasn’t Shelly, nor was it her bad girl friend Laurie. It was Sam. Although Sam was well liked in Richards Branch and recognized by all as having done a good job with the church, he realized that he wasn’t going much farther as the Pastor of the Richards Branch Southern Baptist Convention Church, and Sam wanted a career that went beyond pastor of a small-town church. He decided he needed to spend more time working with the National Convention and he convinced the powers that be in Nashville to assign an Assistant Pastor to his little church in Richards Branch, Alabama. This would give him more time to spend in Nashville working on national issues.
The new Assistant Pastor was young, fresh out of a divinity school in Eastern Washington State. Sam wasn’t particularly interested in training him as to the workings of their church because what he wanted was to spend more time in Nashville. So, the task of training Lyle, the new pastor, fell mostly to Shelly. The new pastor came with a wife named Caroline. They would bring a big change to Shelly’s life.
Lyle was tall and lean with thick dark hair that he kept neatly trimmed. He had broad shoulders, narrow hips, and a gleam in his blue eyes women noticed immediately. Caroline was a cute little blue eyed blonde from South Carolina. She was maybe 5-2 on a tall day and always wore three or sometimes even four-inch heels to make up for her height. Men immediately noticed her curvy round hips, her narrow waist, and her ample bust. To top it all off she had a soft South Carolina drawl that, while not quite perfect for Alabama, let her fit right into the community, as opposed to Sam’s clipped west coast newsman’s version of English that made everyone in town want to immediately ask, “Where you from boy?” Sam had natural born skills allowing him to charm anyone he spoke to, male or female, but especially female. Caroline was a natural born flirt.
Before he could be officially installed as the Assistant Pastor of the Richards Branch Southern Baptist church, thereby freeing Pastor Sam to spend time in Nashville politicking, Lyle had to be formally approved by the local Church Council. The Church Council of the Baptist church in a small Southern town is a curious critter, well known throughout the South, but a very foreign concept to a young man like Lyle, born, raised, and educated on the West Coast. We all learn in our civics classes that government at all levels is usually organized in three offsetting parts–the legislature (the City Council, in Richards Branch); the executive (in Richards Branch the elected mayor and the folks he hires, like the city clerk, police chief, etc.); and the judicial. But in a small Southern town there is a fourth branch of government–the Church Council. It has no legal status. It is made up entirely of men–good, solid, married men of status in the community. Frequently its membership overlaps with the other branches of government. In Richards Branch the Church Council consisted of the mayor; the County Sherriff, who happened to live in the town; the owner of the local John Deere dealership, who was also a long-standing member of the City Council; and a very successful local farmer, whose brother was the local District Court Judge. These were the men who really ran the town. They met informally at 7:00 a.m. on Mondays at a big table in the back of a local breakfast cafe and they met once a month in a more formal meeting at the Church acting as the Church Council, although issues which they deemed in their jurisdiction (which was more or less everything) could be addressed at either meeting. Nothing of significance was going to happen in Richards Branch without their informal blessing and if action was needed to correct something, some failure of the other branches of government, they would initiate it and see that it was accomplished.
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