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The Bishop’s Hotwife: Part 2

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The Bishop’s Hotwife: Part 2It’s not a tryst when she’s training me.

Based on a post by Wendy Trilby, in 5 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.




"You can have me any way you choose. But you must always finish in my cunt. God's seed is never to be wasted."

I found it amusing, or perhaps ironic, that she somehow integrated religion into what was essentially just a wild sexual affair.

"What about The Bishop?"

"The

Bishop is a wonderful man-a great provider, a man of the temple, a
leader. But he's impotent in the bedroom; he has been for years. I, on
the other hand, have an insatiable thirst."

"Are you on the pill? Should I get condoms?"

"No and no. But Mandy needs frequent servicing."

"Um, who's Mandy? You keep saying her name."

"Me, I'm Mandy. At least here in the non-kosher bedroom. Amanda, Mandy. Get it?"

"I'm not even used to calling you Amanda; and now you have a nickname.

She wrinkled her nose at me.

"That

name is meant for our shared use; no one else. As for Mrs. Barton, you
should probably keep that up in public. We can't display any informality
around The Bishop; he's a very intuitive man."

Mrs.

Barton got on her knees and straddled my body. I hoped she was going to
shed the robe, which she did, but only partway. She took off the top,
revealing her tits.

"Now, if there are no more questions, I want to feel you inside me."

Her

tits were large for her petite frame and hung down with some weight.
Her areolas and nipples were surprisingly larger than I'd have imagined.
She was always tan, but her tits were milk-white, and I could even see
the blue of her veins.

She remained hovering over me, but when my cock began to stir, I could feel it pressing against something fleshy and wet.

She smiled.

"You like them. I can tell."

"They're amazing."

"They are. Now watch this."

She

took her left hand and grasped the nipple of her left tit, placing her
hand above the nipple and pushing down as she squeezed.

To

my shock and amazement, twin tiny streams of milk shot out of her
nipple, landing on my face; she continued to squeeze, and droplets of
her mother's milk followed.

I was amazed, and I continued to harden in response. I could feel my cock pressing on the wet flesh under her robe.

"This is for John-John. I can't get pregnant while I'm breastfeeding, so we won't need any protection."

"You sure? That sounds like some kind of myth."

I

have five children; I've nursed them all for over a year. I've made
love countless times and never conceived while I breastfeed. So, no, we
don't need any protection. We'll celebrate each other's bodies as God
intended, natural, skin on skin, intimate. I'll do anything you desire,
and you'll leave your seed in me. We cannot waste what the Lord has
provided.

She held out her tit.

"Now, would you like to taste?"

I

was unsure, but my cock was certain. It surged yet again against her
body. I could not tell where, but a small trickle of hot fluid dripped
from within her and drenched my glans let me know I was almost inside
her pussy.

She

bent forward, holding her left tit out, bringing it to my mouth. Her
purple nipple was saturated in the milk she had already produced, and
she gently guided it around my lips, wetting them.

I

opened my mouth wider, and she pushed her thick teat inside, like a
cock penetrating a cunt. She was forceful, and her tit flesh filled my
mouth as her nipple sought out my tongue and urged my mouth to latch on.

I could smell her clean body and the scent of her milk.

"Come on, Bryant, taste Mandy."

My

mouth closed on her tit, creating suction, and my tongue stimulated her
nipple, telling her nerves it was time to produce. There was nothing,
and then she gave a gentle sigh. I could feel a strange sensation as her
milk ducts contracted, followed by a letdown, and her breast milk
filled my mouth.

"There's a good boy," she said as she went from straddling me to sitting directly atop my cock.

The

warmth of her pussy enveloped my cock. I wasn't inside her, but her
cunt was around the length of my cock like the bun of a hot dog, sliding
back and forth, wetting and preparing it.

Slowly, she took her teat out of my mouth. I chased it slightly, but she pulled it away, drying it with the robe.

"That's all for you. The rest is for John-John."

She slid back and forth over my cock, using her pussy to sense how hard I was.

"You want me to take a shower first?" I offered.

"No,

I want to taste your sweat; I want to smell your animal scent. Now, one
more thing. Take off that lingerie. From here on out, you're in charge
of me. You tell me what you want. You tell me what you're going to do to
me. You can punish me if I displease you."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "That feels kind of, I don't know."

"Have

you heard the term Trad Wife? It means a traditional wife. That's me. I
serve my husband and my family. Cook the meals, get the children off to
school. Being a trad wife is my full-time job."

This wasn't the conversation I needed as I was about to enter her.

A

man should treat his woman with love and respect, but with a firm hand.
My job is to please my husband. In this bed, I am your property.

"But I'm not your husband."

"In this house, you are. I answer to you. You'll treat me as your wife, and I'll serve you as my husband."

And outside this house?

"I'm Mrs. Barton. Wife of Bishop Barton and expect you to honor that."

I was starting to comprehend her game and her rules.

I

had always heard the joke: When Mormon girls go bad, they go really
bad. But no one ever told me when Mormon moms go bad, they go
incredible.

I decided to test the waters.

"Ok, Mandy, take off that robe and let me see your body."

Mandy

complied by getting off the bed and dropping her robe, standing before
me unadorned and unabashed. At least now I could see her entire body.

She

was of average height, neither short nor tall, but she had a petite
frame. You wouldn't know she had given birth to five children when
clothed, yet her body revealed some signs of childbirth and early middle
age.

Her

tits, full and natural, bore the unmistakable signs of the milk she
carried. Still, they retained a sexy fitness that was undeniably
alluring.

She

had some flaws, and while they were few, they made her all the more
alluring. Her soft body bore the marks of her life. Her waist had a
gentle, elegant curve, and despite having given birth a year ago, her
skin remained tight. Her hips were full, and the only hint at the five
children she had borne was the slight softness of her midsection.

Her pubic hair was neatly groomed above her perfectly bare slit. I could see her labia lips were large and hung down.

"Do I please you?" she asked.

She was very intentional in her statements.

Sure,

she said I was meant to be in control, but I realized that she was
someone who understood her power and required no one's permission to
claim it.

She had orchestrated everything to lead us to this moment and was entirely unapologetic.

"You do."

I

got up off the bed and tore off the lingerie, ripping it in half until I
was standing before her naked. My cock was now fully erect.

I

guided her to the bed, and she sat and scooched back. I sat next to her
and slowly moved in. This incredible woman had masturbated me and then
offered herself to me without limits, and yet I hadn't even kissed her.

She

looked at me as I moved in for a gentle kiss. When our lips connected, I
could feel a true spark of passion. Putting her hand around my neck,
she pulled me in tight and opened her mouth to explore mine. Her hand
slid to my erection and began to masturbate me gently. I could tell she
wasn't trying to make me cum but was testing to see if I had refracted.

I

let my hand drift to her tit, gently rubbing her nipple with my thumb.
How we held each other and pressed our bodies together was strangely
intimate and felt right.

I didn't feel like an adulterer. I felt like I belonged with her, and she belonged with me. My non-kosher wife.

I

desperately wanted to feel her mouth on my cock. I knew I could tell
her to suck it, but I wanted this to be her choice. I gently pushed on
her head, letting her know my desire.

Far

more experienced than I, she began to kiss her way down my body. She
licked around my nipples and across my chest, taking in the salt of my
sweat.

When

she finally reached my cock she licked it gently, put the tip in her
mouth and ran her tongue around a band of rough flesh under the thick
cap. Looking up at me with a smile.

"I love a circumcised cock. So good-looking. So perfect. The Bishop isn't circumcised."

I

wasn't looking for a conversation or debate about the aesthetics of
circumcision, and I did not want to discuss another man's cock.

Fortunately,

she put her mouth over my cock and took it gently in her mouth. I could
feel her tongue working the underside of my shaft while she slid down
the base and gently pulled back.

She was taking her time, enjoying the thickness of my cock as it begged for more friction.

My girlfriend had never been keen on blow jobs, and more than once, she used her teeth, which was always a deal breaker.

But

Mrs. Barton; I mean, Mandy, came with all the care of an experienced,
passionate lover, and her mouth-work was sending shivers through my
body.

I'd

have been happy to cum in her mouth, but the build-up to this moment
was too intense, and I reminded myself I needed to finish deep inside
her per her instructions.

Mandy

moved her body, so she was down between my legs, my cock still in her
mouth, her eyes looking up at me as she continued to bob slowly in and
out.

I

could see the wet sheen her saliva left when she would pull up on my
cock, and then it would disappear as her mouth returned to the hilt.

She

then pulled back, and my cock popped out of her mouth and slapped
against my body with a wet, meaty sound. When she lifted my balls and
took her tongue to my perineum I could feel her cleaning my flesh and
teasing my anus, almost daring me to cum.

She

finally crawled forward, moving over my body until her mouth was on
mine again. Her weighty tits were pressing on my chest. She held my face
as she kissed me gently.

"Baby, I know you want to be inside me, but would you taste me first?"

While completely unabashed, she had a way of suggesting the most lurid things most innocently.

"Taste you?"

"Uh

huh. The Bishop won't go down on me. He considers it filthy. It's been
so long since I've had a tongue in there. I love a tongue inside me."

What

I wanted to do was fuck her, but the way she offered me to sample her
pussy was inviting. I pushed on her shoulder to roll her over so I could
go down on her, but she wanted to serve me.

She

held me down and sat up, straddling my lower torso so that the round of
her ass was just above the tip of my pulsating cock and she began to
scooch forward.

She

put a pillow behind my head and slid her wet pussy along my torso and
then chest, leaving a trail of her glistening essences behind her.

As

she shuffled forward, bringing her cunt to my face, I got a better look
at the object of my desire. She had shaved her labia lips, revealing a
pronounced pubic mound. Above the mound, she kept a neatly maintained
field of thin pubic hair. Her pussy was swollen, and I could see she had
surprisingly larger inner lips.

She

smelled clean and wholesome and held still, allowing a long, clear
string of her pussy juice to drip off her thick purple labia lips. It
just held there, waiting for gravity to claim it.

She gyrated gently, and the drizzle of her thick glycerin effusion dripped down to my waiting tongue like drool.

I ran her thick honey across my lips with my tongue.

She

lowered herself to my waiting mouth, leaving my nose free to breathe as
she ground herself against my face with a long moan of pleasure.

I

immediately went to work with my mouth and tongue. She took both hands,
leaned forward and began running her fingers through my hair. Rising
and falling methodically, she kept her hand in my hair, pulling it as
she rode my face with indulgence.

Her gentle moans were like music, and the taste of her cunt was as intoxicating as the strongest liquor.

Occasionally, she would clear her hair from her face and grasp her heavy tits, massaging them as she enjoyed the ride.

She

leaned in again, grasping my head, and, in doing so, brought her clit
to my mouth. It was large, and when my tongue found it, she let out a
moan and pulled on my hair painfully.

She widened her stance, pressing her pussy harder into me, making certain her clit was grinding against my tongue.

"Oh, my God, Bryant," she moaned and let out a cry that turned into a prolonged moan.

I attacked her clit again, and she shook her hands like she was bearing witness in a Baptist church.

Looking

up, her nourishing breasts heavily swayed with her body. Her nipples
were red and swollen again, and I could not resist the temptation to
reach up and knead them.

Despite

their density, they were butter soft. She brought her hands to mine. I
thought to move them from her sensitive nipples, but instead, she guided
me, showing me how she liked her tit touched and then brought my
fingers to her nipples, teaching me how to draw milk from her with my
fingers.

She leaned forward even more, positioning her clit right where I could suckle it like a third nipple.

"Oh my God," she moaned. "Please."

She

was unaware of her body's reaction to the pleasure and began squeezing
her legs against my head as she attempted to push the top of her pussy
into me.

"I'm going to cum, baby. I can't hold it; the tongue. I've missed your tongue so much."

She

didn't know what to do with her hands, so she placed them on her ass as
she let out long wails that sounded like she was crying.

I looked up at her, but there were no tears, just eyes closed in bliss and her mouth open with her tongue halfway out.

Putting

my hands on her ass I held her still as I moved my face from across her
cunt, attacking and painting her clit with my saliva.

She

put her hands up and cupped her tits, one in each hand, holding them
like two loaves of soft bread dough. Looking down at me, she smiled to
see me watching her.

There

was a gentle gush of her juices, and her taste changed, with a hint of
sweetness mixed in with the savory tastes I had been enjoying.

She was plateauing. Her breathing increased, I could feel her leg muscles tense, and the walls of her cunt turned purple.

Initially,

it wasn't hard to find her clit, but now this close to orgasm, it
retreated under its thick hood. I tried to chase it.

Turns

out that's a button a man needs to stop pressing at some point. Rather
than give me a lecture on proper clitoral attention, she scooched
forward, sliding her greased labia over my face and putting her clit out
of range of my mouth.

My old girlfriend had petite, quiet orgasms, but not Mandy. Her legs shook; her pussy began to flare.

My

hands were still on her ass as my forefinger found the dark star of her
anus. It was soaked from my saliva and her effluence, and when my
finger pressed, it dilated enough for me to enter her dark opening. Her
reaction was instantaneous.

"Oh, that feel so weird," she moaned.

Perhaps

I was the first to venture into that darkness. I'd have to ask later
because, at this moment, with my finger only a knuckle deep in her ass,
her orgasm gripped her like a bomb. She let out a loud wail, which would
have woken all the children if we had any, and then she went rigid. I
pushed my wandering finger deeper as her inner muscles clamped down
around it.

A

thin sheen of perspiration covered her body as she gently ground her
pussy against my face, careful to keep her overstimulated clit away from
further action. Her cunt was covering my nose and mouth, and if she
didn't dismount soon, I'd have to push her off to grab some air.

She

leaned right, broke the tight seal of over my mouth, and rolled off me
as her wetness and my saliva stretched in thin, glistening strands of
her elastic effluence.

My finger was still in her ass, and she gently reached back to pull it out.

"Easy on the finger, babe. It's been a while since anything's gone in that doorway."

Well, that answered the question. I wasn't the first to explore that passage.

She rolled to my side and lay there exhausted.

"So, you finished, right?" I asked amateurishly.

"I'm pretty sure I just rained right in your mouth. So, you figure it out."

I smiled.

"Nice move with that finger. I think you added about 30 extra seconds to that ride."

"You said it's been a while since you've done that."

The Bishop disapproves of ass play. It's not part of God's plan for procreation.

Well, neither is oral sex, I replied.

"You think The Bishop would let me sit on his face? Not a chance. By the way, thank you for that."

"You don't have to thank me. I loved it. Do you mind if I ask a personal question?"

Mandy snuggled in close to me.

"I'm an open book to you."

"Why did you marry him? I mean, he's a nice guy, but you seem so much more, I don't know; evolved?"

"I

was engaged to marry him when I was 17 and he was 30. My parents were
excited. I mean, he was on track to be a Bishop in the Church, and now
he is. We got married a week after I turned 18, and I started having
babies. We're a good LDS couple, doing our duty to the church."

I didn't want to question the word "good" as I lay naked next to her, so I changed gears.

"How much longer with the nursing thing? I mean, I like it and all, but;"

"It's time to ween John-John soon. The Bishop wants us to have two more kids."

"Two more? That's seven kids. Are you sure about that?"

"I love being pregnant. I love serving the church. I love serving The Bishop, and now I love serving you. It's what I do best."

I

did not understand this woman. She was as devout as they come, but when
she walked through the doorway to my house, she was a wild sexual beast
with no boundaries. At least none that I could discern.

I

bit my lower lip and was immediately reminded of her intimate flavors.
She noticed me licking around my mouth and brought her lips against mine
to join in.

She began to lick more aggressively, enjoying the now-drying silk her body had left on my face.

"I can be very wet at times. I should have warned you,"

She returned to kissing me and then gently began to stroke my cock.

"Will you make love to me?"

I nodded yes.

"Do you have a favorite position?" I asked.

We have got all summer to find which one we both like best. Maybe, since we're both LDS; " she let the sentence dangle.

She gazed at me with a smirk, fully aware that I was a jack Mormon, which is as far from the faith as one can get.

"Missionary. What I was going to suggest was missionary."

She

smiled and held her arms out for me. I gently rolled atop her body as
her heavy tits hung to each side of her torso. Her flesh, pressed to
mine, felt wonderful, and I would have been fine spending the evening in
her embrace.

She

brought her hand to my face and pulled me in for a kiss. It began
tentatively, both of us uncertain. But when her lips met mine, she
slipped her tongue and explored my mouth with hunger. My face glistened
with the remnants of my visit to her pussy.

She could taste the lingering tang of her arousal, and it stirred something in her.

My

cock was stiff and lying atop the rim of her slit, waiting for the
right moment to slip inside. I felt a hand and realized she intended to
guide me. She positioned the tip of my cock on the edge of her folds,
then gently put a hand on my ass and, with subtle pressure, urged me to
push in and drive myself deep inside.

I

could feel her labia part as my cock met her slick insides. I easily
slid in until my balls were resting on her perineum. Her inner walls
clenched and rippled in response to my invasion, grasping my cock and
massaging it. It felt amazing.

I

was inside her and pleasing her became my only goal. She was older and
more experienced and I was worried about being clumsy, about
disappointing her.

"It feels so good right now," she cooed. "So good."

I

felt myself stiffen. She kissed me some more, holding my face and then
licking off some of the flavors that glistened around my mouth. I began
to gently pump my cock slow in and out as she whispered.

She sensed my hesitation, brought her hands to my face, gave me a soft kiss, and whispered.

"There's nothing to worry about. Just let yourself feel."

"I want you to enjoy this," I replied.

"I already am. Yours is the biggest I've ever had inside me."

I

smiled, realizing I had at least one thing over The Bishop. Although it
wasn't a competition, I took it as a victory. That alone inspired me to
prove my worth as a lover to her.

I

began to push my hips toward her, thrusting, pushing my cock deeper
into her pussy. She matched my pace, meeting my push with a roll of her
hips. After three of these gyrations, I heard small groans of pleasure.
Bending her knees, she opened them wider, anything to help me go deeper
inside.

I responded with a faster pace. Her wetness created slurping sounds which mingled with rhythmic slapping of our flesh.

"I'm so close, Ethan," she said loudly.

There was no need to whisper or sneak about. In our non-kosher kitchen, she felt safe letting her voice be heard.

Those

gentle groans quickly grew into wails of pleasure. I could feel my
orgasm building. It began in my fingers, moving to my core. My balls
swelled, and I could feel the rush of semen as it raced through my
urethra, seeking exit into her moistness.

I

let out a primal grunt as my orgasm began. Instantly, her body met my
surges of semen with a grinding roll of her hips. She was a master at
this. No wonder she had been pregnant for most of the past 18 years.

I could feel pulse after pulse of cum leaving my body in exchange for a prolonged feeling of absolute bliss.

Mandy

was panting, breathing hard, but the moment she felt my cum splash
inside her, she let out a moan of pleasure that came from her core.

Deep

within her, my semen moved aggressively, looking for any place to
stick. Our bodies were now acting on instinct as my sperm-filled seed
pushed past her acidic barriers, seeking her cervix.

As

I gently slowed my gyrating, I pulled out halfway to see my cock
glistening with a generous coating of my cum. The smell of semen and her
intoxicating aroma, in addition to my unbathed sweat, filled the room
with the tell-tale odor of fucking.

When

I finally pulled out, a gentle backflow of her fluids and my cum,
trickled along the fourchette of her cunt, pooling on the sheets in a
thick puddle.

She lay there still, enjoying the last moment of her decaying orgasm.

"I

had forgotten how good it feels," she said to no one. She then reached
down and smeared the mixture of our union that covered her pussy inside
and out.

"Look at the mess we made." She whispered.

I dwelled on the statement.

What a mess we made.

I had just fucked the wife of my boss, my neighbor, a good Mormon woman, a pillar of the community.

What a mess, indeed.

I

knew the right thing to do was to end this here and now. We had fun;
this was the right time to end this game before it got any messier.

I

turned to her, determined to draw the line. She lay on the bed, glowing
in the moment looking incredible. I searched for the words.

"I think you need a shower," She said with a giggle. She smiled and ran her finger along the underside of my cock.

"Don't worry. I'm going to join you. I want to bathe my non-kosher husband. Would you like that, baby?"

I

could feel myself stiffen. If we were making a mess, I was happy to be a
part of it. My speech about drawing a line would have to wait.

Chapter 2: He's A Keeper.

Four

years ago, my neighbor, Wayne Bryant, was worried about his son, Ethan,
who was entering his senior year at Georgetown. Ethan was researching
law schools, and Wayne hoped The Bishop would provide guidance and
influence to navigate the application process and supply the necessary
letters of recommendation.

We

were in DC and had lunch planned in Georgetown. I was excited to see
Ethan again after several years away from Provo. At the last minute, The
Bishop was too busy to attend but encouraged me to meet with Ethan,
reconnect, and learn more about him; he would base his recommendations
on my feedback.

He

wandered into the restaurant, and I nearly gasped. The boy had grown
up. He hugged me and said I hadn't aged a day in the four years since
he'd last seen me. He, on the other hand, had matured and now exuded a
polished charm with a youthful glow that seemed almost unfair. He was a
blend of boyish mischief and adult poise, and I could picture him as the
kind of guy who could win over your parents and then convince you to
sneak out to a party.

We

talked about his future. He asked about his dad, whom he hadn't seen in
a while. He asked about my kids, all of whom were doing great. This
wasn't just conversation; this young man was deeply interested in what I
had to say.

I

got around to mentioning Harvard. He was still undecided about the
school, unsure if he could get in. But I assured him The Bishop could
make it happen.

I

didn't bother to tell him; we owed his father a debt of gratitude, so
getting Ethan into Harvard was our priority and if The Bishop wanted it
to happen, it would happen.

An older woman selling flowers from table to table interrupted our conversation.

"Would you like to buy a flower for your girlfriend?" she asked Ethan.

"Oh, I'm not his;" I started to say.

Ethan interrupted me and pulled out some cash.

"I would."

He chose a beautiful rose and handed it to me.

"Thank you, young man," she said then looked at me.

"He's a keeper this one," and then moved on to the next table.

"Well, I guess I'm your girlfriend now."

He smiled with that unending charm of his.

"At least until lunch is over."

"That was nice of you to buy that young woman’s flowers. She looks like she needs that money."

And you looked like you needed a flower, so everyone wins."

There it was. The one virtue that trumps all others; empathy. Ethan cared about everyone. Even me.

We

resumed our conversation about law school, home, and various other
topics, but I was lost in the moment. My mind wandered, as it often
does, and I envisioned myself as his girlfriend, enjoying lunch and
planning our future together.

A

text from The Bishop brought me back to my senses. Ethan walked me to
my Uber, and I left. I chose to leave the flower in the Uber when I
returned to The Bishop. There was nothing inappropriate about it; I just
didn't want to share that gesture with anyone else.

Though

I left the flower behind, I couldn't shake my thoughts of this
remarkable man. That encounter left a mark on me. With so much going on
in my life, the last thing I needed was a crush on my neighbor's son. I
thought time and distance would take care of it.

It did.

Until it didn't.

When

he returned for his father's funeral, it all came rushing back. He was
so sad, but carried himself with a quiet empathy. I watched as his gaze
often drifted toward the casket of Wayne Bryant, hallowed by the
finality of it all. He would be returning to Boston to finish his
degree, and I doubted he would ever be back.

The selfish side of me wanted him back here.

That's when I came up with the idea for the internship with The Bishop's firm.

It's

been a month since he came home, and so far I've accomplished
everything I set out to do. After just a week of flirting, we ended up
in bed. Over the past three weeks, we have made love fifteen times. It
would be more if I could manage it.

The

fantasies I created in my head when I sat across from him at our lunch
in Georgetown pale in comparison to the intensity of our recent bodily
unions.

I looked at myself in the mirror and fixed my hair. Ethan liked it when I wore it down, no ponytail.

"I'm

going for a walk," I yelled and quickly left. I started my walk,
stopping to talk to the Joyces as they headed out for the day.

When

I was sure no one was watching, I ducked into the woods behind Ethan's
house and made it to the back door using my code to enter.

Ethan

and I had been holding our non-kosher kitchen meetings for three weeks
now. He was a study in virility, and I found that he could rise to the
occasion two, and sometimes three, times a day.

Sometimes

I would enter through the front door with food deliveries or cleaning
supplies; nothing suspicious there. At other times, I slipped in through
the backyard. It was difficult to keep my visits to his home a secret,
but the rewards were incredible.

I

found a steaming cup of coffee waiting for me on the counter, with a
bottle of Kahlúa next to it. I poured a few ounces of the Kahlúa into
the coffee and noticed a small box with a bow beside the coffee.

A

gift! I love receiving gifts. Whether small or large, I've always
viewed gifts as a token of appreciation for my dedication to everything.
I took the box and the coffee upstairs to our bedroom, where I could
hear my young husband in the shower.

Bryant

had adapted beautifully to our game of playing house. I could see how
excited he got when I called him husband, and I loved it when he called
me his wife.

"I'm

home, baby," I shouted over the sound of the running water. I loved
watching him in the shower. His youthful body was strong and muscular.
The Bishop had a rather hairy physique and a soft belly, which I found
unappealing, but this young man was my Adonis.

Ethan

was hairless other than around his cock, and I loved the touch of his
skin. He was also so responsive to my needs, grooming his pubic hair
very short as a courtesy to me. Small efforts always meant the most to
me.

He

was always so focused on my pleasure, even though I had to remind him
that it was unnecessary. My faith required that my husband have a direct
covenant with God, and I was bound to obey my husband. Or, in this
case, my husbands.

The

church removed the "obey your husband" language a few years ago, but I
disagreed with that and continued to obey The Bishop, and now I also
obeyed Ethan, at least here in the non-kosher kitchen.

I

explained this to Ethan, who reminded me that he did not have a
covenant with God. But I did. Each time Ethan left his seed in me, it
was a spiritual experience, and through that intimate unity, I was
bringing him back into the church. By the end of the summer, he would
understand his role and place in my life.

"You got me a gift; that's not fair. I didn't get you anything."

Ethan looked out of the shower at me.

"I'm pretty sure you've given me almost everything you have."

I blushed. I had dedicated myself to pleasing this young man and was glad he noticed.

"It's jewelry," he said before I opened it.

"Ethan! I can't wear jewelry from you. People will ask questions,"

"This one you can. Open it."

I opened it to find a set of three gold ass plugs with jeweled ends, each larger than the last.

I looked up to him to catch his wry smile.

"You're a dirty boy," I said as I bit my lower lip like I used to in high school to drive the boys wild.

"Well, I didn't get you anything, but I think I can find a way to thank you for being so thoughtful."

I began to disrobe, slowly taking my top off and then unhooking my bra. I took my time, knowing he was hungrily watching me.

Turning

away I slid down my tennis shorts so he could look at my ass.
Obviously, it had been on his mind, so teasing him excited us both.

He reached out of the shower and pulled me in, pressing my body against his, his erect cock pushing on my belly.

"I love work-at-home days," he said as he kissed me.

I

loved his remote workdays. I'd spend most of my time in his bed, and
between his calls and work, he would visit me, make love to me, and then
return to his workstation, completing tasks for my husband.

I'd remain in bed, watching my shows and patiently waiting for him to return.

"So, this jewelry you got me; what do you want me to do with it?" I said as I helped lather his body.

"I want you to wear it when you're with him. I want you to feel me inside you, no matter where you go."

"Ethan, are you jealous of my relationship with The Bishop? He's my husband, too. You do understand the arrangement?"

Ethan

had begun to wash my sensitive tits, taking care not to cause them to
letdown and lactate. I had never met someone as thoughtful as this young
man.

"I

understand the arrangement, and perhaps I'm overstepping my boundaries,
but I'd appreciate it if you wore this. Don't you want to make me
happy?"

He

knew I did. The truth is that the idea of carrying a symbol of our
relationship into my public life was both exhilarating and terrifying.

I had my rules, and they were risk-averse, so why was I so excited about his suggestion?

I changed the subject.

"Gideon is leaving for his mission next week. We're having a send-off barbecue next Saturday. I really want you to attend."

Ethan bristled at the idea of a backyard barbecue. I could see he wasn't too interested.

"Those are for family," he said, looking for a way out.

"You are family, I replied. You're mine, and through me, you are family. I expect you to attend."

Of course, I had surrendered authority to Ethan when we began this summer fling, so I needed to sweeten the pot.

"I'll make a deal with you: I'll wear my special gift all day, along with those red panties you like. All day, under my skirt."

I stroked his cock to accentuate my point.

"Just. For. You."

Ethan bit his lip. I could see the wheels turning.

"All day?"

"All day, just for you."

I

had him. Men are easy to control when desire is involved. Having Ethan
over was going to be thrilling. However, adding the ass plug was going
to be a challenge.

There

was no time to dwell on the barbeque because Ethan had begun to gently
massage my ass with soap and water, while holding my body against him.
He ran his finger along my backside crease, stopping on the clench of my
sphincter.

His

gentle touch made my nipples harden, and I quickly forgot my concerns
about next week. Ethan was pressing his finger on my ass, silently
asking permission to enter.

"Tell me what to do," I whispered, urging him to take command.

"Let me in," he replied and pushed harder.

The

warm water had relaxed my sphincter muscles, with a second push, my ass
relented, and his finger sunk in up to the knuckle. The invasion sent
electricity across my body, and I let out a gentle sigh.

"You'll wear it at the barbecue," he started, "When that's over, you make an excuse to come over here, and I'll; "

"Say it. Say what you'll do to me," I pleaded. He pushed his finger in deeper.

"I'll fuck your ass. That's what I want and that's what you're going to do."

I was happy to see him taking control.

His single digit was gently massaging my anus from the inside.

"What if I say no?" I whispered.

He

stumbled; his finger halted probing my dark passage. He was too good a
man to ever ignore the word no. He respected women. His father had
raised him well.

I didn't want to ruin the moment.

"Don't worry baby, I'll never say no to you. If that's what you want me to do, I'll obey."

Crises of conscience avoided.

His finger resumed massaging my passage.

My hand was massaging his cock, and I could feel it stiffen at the mention of fucking my ass next week.

The finger felt good. I wanted more.

"Add a finger, baby, add a finger," I begged.

I wish he had done it without me asking. But I was training him. In time, he would stop asking for permission to do anything.

His

index finger entered with his middle finger, doubling the pressure in
my ass. I let out a small grunt of pleasure and bent forward to allow
passage.

If this was anything like what he would be doing to me next week with his cock, the pleasure factor would be incredible.

He could sense my enjoyment and gently widened his fingers in my bowels.

Suddenly, I felt the urge to pee.

Fuck, not now!

I wanted to cum, but the pressure to urinate was strong.

"I have to pee," I said to him. "I have to pee."

I wanted him to take his fingers out so I could run to the toilet.

"Go ahead," he said with indifference. "Pee."

"I've never done that in front of a man."

"I said, pee. We're in the shower, just pee."

He wasn't asking. He was telling. The pressure on my bladder was intense.

"Okay," I said between gasps. "Please don't look."

I remained leaning over, his fingers still in in my ass as I relaxed my pelvic floor and let a strong stream of urine go.

The warm pee hit the shower floor and splashed on our feet.

Inside

me, I felt the pressure leaving my body. Whenever I hold in a pee too
long, the feeling of relieving myself is one of the best, topped only by
an orgasm.

As

my stream flowed, the pressure on my bladder reduced, but the pressure
on his fingers increased, and the nerve endings surrounding my sphincter
began to fire.

The

euphoric feeling of emptying my bladder rolled directly into an anal
orgasm that I did not see coming. I felt my knees weaken and my legs
buckle. Ethan grabbed me, and I held onto him as my body shuddered
through the experience.

I

didn't need to narrate the moment. Ethan could see what was transpiring
and did his best to keep me from going to the ground as the incredible
feeling rolled on and on.

Finally, it ended. As I came down from the dual feeling of pleasure, I became self-conscious about what had transpired.

It was embarrassing to have relieved myself and orgasmed in front of Ethan.

"That was amazing," he whispered as he held me.

It

was the perfect storm. Three stimulations arriving at the exact moment;
the pleasure of relieving my bladder, the pleasure of his finger
stretching me from inside, and the pleasure of obeying his commands:
three pleasures, all mine.

I loved how it felt with him holding me as I orgasmed and didn't want him to let me go.

"How was that?" he asked.

"The best orgasm I've ever had," I said as I attempted to stand upright.

I reached out and turned off the water.

"Take me to the bed," I demanded.

I

probably could have walked, but I didn't want to. He took a towel and
wrapped me up, then carried me like a bride to the bed, depositing me
gently on the right side.

"You need to rest?" he asked.

"I've never tried anal," I confessed. "Have you?"

He shook his head no.

The

truth was, he caught me off guard with the toys. The Church frowned on
sodomy, but the Church frowned on a lot of things I had come to enjoy.
On the list of sins I was committing with Ethan, allowing him into my
ass, was probably not even in the top ten.

"I don't want it to hurt," he said. "That's why I got the set. We start small and build up."

"So, you want to train my ass to accept your cock?"

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds so”

Ethan, what did I say to you when we first made love?

"You said you would do anything I desired,"

"Is this what you desire?" I asked.

"I think we both might like it," he said.

"Be gentle."

I then rolled over, so I was lying flat on the bed, face down. I opened my legs to allow him to explore my backside.

Face down, I could only feel and imagine what he was doing to me.

He sat next to me then spread my ass cheeks apart. I could feel his eyes studying my ass and focusing on my tight clenched hole.

"So, you and The Bishop never tried anal?"

"Never. The only fingers that have ever been in there are mine and yours."

I knew he was smiling, excited that there was a part of my body that The Bishop had never explored; virgin territory.

I reached back and gently massaged my sphincter to loosen it, but he moved my hand away.

Suddenly

I felt his tongue meet my anus as he greedily began to tease and taste
my forbidden area. The sensation of his tongue gliding over my wrinkled
knot made my heart rate increase. I squirmed slightly, but he held me
still.

I loved that feeling of being held down.

I

wanted him to understand that I was all in on his wishes and pressed my
body to his mouth as he kept my ass cheeks open with his hands as he
wet and tasted me.

My

morning cleaning ritual was thorough and deep. I'd sit on a bidet
pushing water deep inside my front and back. When it ran clean, I'd then
shower, soaping and fingering myself. I knew I was spotless back there

I could feel waves of pleasure as he circled and dipped his tongue in and out of my clench. Finally, he sat up.

"Toy time," he said.

I rolled over and looked up at him.

"Kiss me," I begged.

He gave me a look that said, You know where I just was.

"Kiss me," I demanded.

He

lowered his face to mine, and our tongues explored. I always loved
tasting myself on his face after he explored my pussy, this was no
different.

His kisses tasted tangy, with an essence of soil after a rain, rich and organic with a hint of burnt toast.

Our kiss ended and I returned to lying face down while he went to the side table where he kept all my toys.

The

next sensation was his finger, cold and slathered in cherry lube, as he
pressed it to my dark hole. After a few circles of my anus, he plunged
his finger in a single move. I reacted by kicking my leg out and making a
gentle cry of surprise.

He

grasped my leg and held it as he moved his finger gently inside my
bowel, tickling me from within. He pulled his finger out, and I had a
momentary feeling of loss. There was no time to linger as I felt the
cold metal of the smaller ass plug now pushing on my clench.

"Slow," I pleaded.

He

obeyed, pushing ever so gently against my sealed hole. He pushed again,
still my muscles resisted instinctively, knowing nothing should be
coming in from that direction.

Another push, and I felt pleasure overtake pain as my sphincter began to surrender and stretch open.

God,

if this was the smallest of the three plugs, there was no way I could
accommodate anything larger, and that included Ethan's cock.

I made an unladylike grunt as he pushed, and let myself relax.

He pushed again, and this time I felt the sphincter muscles relent, allowing the egg-shaped tool to slide past my max width.

I couldn't see it, but I could feel my tight hole being held open wide. I could probably push it out or it at this point.

I

contracted my core, and my muscles quickly pulled it inside me. My
sphincter snapped shut like a mousetrap leaving only the jeweled end of
the plug outside my body.

"Oh my God," he exclaimed. "That was incredible."

The

egg-shaped toy was in my dark canal, just resting there, feeling like a
balloon as it pushed on my muscles, demanding they relax.

I brought my hand back to the jeweled handle to feel it’s snugness. If I wanted this thing out of me, I'd have to push it out.

Ethan

crawled next to me keeping his hand on my ass, gently massaging my
cheeks. We rolled to our sides, so we were facing each other and resumed
our kissing.

The feeling of fullness was different, making our gentle touch more intimate.

I felt an exciting rush and realized my tits were lactating. No doubt, the new sensation had caused a letdown.

I pushed Ethan's head down to my nipples, knowing he loved to feed on me when I allowed it.

Rolling

on top of him, my tits swayed over his face. He moved gently from
nipple to nipple. Far below I could feel him gently massaging his cock.

I

was ready to turn over and allow him to continue training my ass for
his cock when he surprised me by driving his cock into my pussy from
below.

Unprepared

for his entry, I let out a gasp. His thickness was compounded by the
toy in my ass, filling me in an instant. Having never felt this feeling
of fullness and intense pressure; I let out a loud groan.

I

opened my legs, allowing him in me deeper which seemed to amplify the
pleasure. Ethan was making deep groans which told me my pussy must have
been gripping him like a vice. At this rate he would cum soon.

I

moaned loudly, as I often do at Ethan's house. I needed to let my
husband know that the level of pleasure he was providing me was unlike
anything I had ever felt.

As

he began to increase his rhythm, we were both on our way to orgasm. Our
bodies slapped together, and I could hear a faint wet sound, like a
gentle "plat, plat, plat.”

That

toy in my ass changed my physiology, and I soon realized the wet noises
were coming from me. Each thrust and pulled, was met with the noises of
air rushing in and of my saturated and strained labia. That sound was
me as my cunt trapped and released air.

I

knew if we stopped and repositioned, I could make the embarrassing
sound stop, but I was too close to finishing. The strained nerve endings
in my ass, his thick cock pounding my wet folds, stopping now to
readjust was out of the question.

My muscles tensed. It was the point of no return.

"Harder," I begged, He complied, heightening the sound he was forcing my pussy to make.

My vision blurred, and the rising orgasm filled my body.

My

inner walls began to clench and flutter as my cunt realized the
infiltrator was close to delivering his payload. His rich, life-giving
semen.

My heavy tits started to ache as they swung. But at that moment, I accepted the dull ache because my impending orgasm was close.

I

felt his strokes growing stronger. We were in sync, and I prayed we
would find bliss together. There is nothing more perfect than arriving
in unison with your partner, especially one as beautiful and perfect as
Ethan.

Suddenly

I felt a strange pressure, and realize as my orgasm was sweeping over
me, the anal contractions that were so closely associated with my orgasm
were pushing the ass plug out.

I

let out a loud groan as the plug was expelled from my ass triggering my
vaginal orgasm. I had little control over my body and despite an
embarrassing sound of from my ass due to trapped air escaping, I came
hard. Very hard.

Only

as I was on my way down did I notice the feeling of his ejaculation. It
was only a few seconds, but it felt longer. I was now being filled with
Ethan's semen, causing my elation to roll on and on as I let out a long
moan, audibly rewarding my man with gasps and moans.

Ethan

stayed connected to me for as long as he could. I could feel residual
pulses from his cock as my pussy did its natural job of squeezing every
drop of his release. He knew this was my desire and never failed to do
as I asked.

We came to a stop, and I looked down at him with a smile.

His

cock slid out, and I experienced that momentary feeling of loss when
his cock left my cunt, leaving me feeling empty but fulfilled.

Deep

within me, I could feel his semen warming my cervix. This was our holy
communion, and I remained faithful to God, determined to keep my man's
seed inside my vessel.

We lay there breathing hard.

"I thought you wanted to try it the other way," I asked my now spent young man."

"Today was your training day. When you're able to take the large plug, then you'll be ready for me."

That

small plug had pushed me to the limit, and I had no idea how I could
fit the medium one or the large one, and then Ethan himself.

But that boy did create anticipation.

It

was bad enough I could barely wait to get over to his house for our
time together, now I had the added layer of wondering when he would take
my anal virginity.

Chapter 3: Thanks For Coming.

I

arrived at the Barton house holding a tub of potato salad. This type of
family backyard event wasn't my preference. Adding to my growing
fondness for Mrs. Barton, I wasn't sure how it would feel to mingle with
her family in the presence of her husband and his boss, The Bishop.

The

door opened, and I was greeted by a blonde-haired young woman with an
endless smile. I recognized her, but it had been years.

"Hannah?"

"Bryant," the young woman exclaimed, giving him a warm hug.

This was Hannah, Amanda's oldest daughter.

"Wow, Hannah, I don't think I've seen you since like five years ago."

She took his hand, leading him through the large home.

"Oh God, that was my awkward phase. I wore braces for two years."

Hannah had always been the girl-next-door type, but now she had filled out and was a knockout.

"I've been meaning to stop by and tell you how sad I was about your dad. He was such a nice guy. So sweet."

"Thank you,"

"Every time I want to go over, my mom says no. She said to give you your space."

"Oh, well, your mom really means well. She's been a big help to me this summer."

She guided me to the backyard, where a large gathering of family, friends, and esteemed church members was taking place.

"Are you going on a mission as well?"

"No, just Gideon. I'm heading off to BYU in the fall. I'll do a mission later, maybe my senior year."

"Where are they sending Gideon?"

"Chicago," she then lowered her voice.

"My dad can pull strings, so none of us are going to end up in some shithole country."

"I looked at her, somewhat surprised by her language."

"My dad's words, not mine. Where did you do your mission?"

"I didn't. I kind of stepped away from the church in high school."

"Oh, a Jack Mormon. Be careful! Mom will do her best to bring you back into the fold."

"Oh, she's been trying."

Hanna spotted her mother.

"Mom, look who's here. Bryant!"

"Well, hello, Bryant," she said cordially.

"Hello, Mrs. Barton. Thank you for inviting me. "I feel blessed to be included."

"Hannah, it's almost time for John-John to nurse. Would you be a dear and bring him to the family room?"

"Sure, Mom. Hey Bryant, can I talk to you about law school? I've been thinking about”

"Hannah go take care of John John. Now!" Mrs. Barton said in a firm tone that resonated with her daughter. She smiled and left.

"So, you came." The hot milf said, turning her focus on me.

"I promised I would. Speaking of promises, did you; "

"If you think I'm going lift my skirt and show what's inside my ass, well, you'll need to trust me."

She was as firm with me as she was with Hannah. I had to remind myself that I wasn't her husband here. Here, I had no authority.

"Hannah sure has grown up. She was telling me about BYU."

She looked at me with a stern face.

"Please don't spend time with Hannah. She has priorities, but right about now, she's a bit boy crazy."

"I was just being polite."

"Oh, I know. But let's not distract her, shall we? Listen, I have to speak with the other wives. Will you be okay on your own?"

I

nodded in agreement and watched her leave. I wasn't offended by how she
spoke to me; this was her house and family, and I was a potential
issue.

To be continued in part 3. Based on a post by Wendy Trilby, in 5 parts, for Literotica.

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