Ellen Journals 08. The Seminarians

My wife, Ellen, and I are now in our 60s. We have together chronicled the seven occasions in about 40 years of marriage when we have stepped outside the bond of matrimony. Neither of us, and she's not the deceitful sort, have ever had an affair apart from these seven occasions where we participated together with other adults in a sexual encounter. Doing the math, that means that one day out of every 2,000 or so, we "crossed the line" into extramarital sex. I think that's hardly excessive, though I know many will disagree.

I chronicled five of these encounters and Ellen has penned two. They can be found on my profile page.

All the names, dates and places have been changed, but the events in these seven accounts are true and without embellishment as we both recall them.

We have withheld this final report (for there shall be no more exploits to relate), because Ellen has always been embarrassed about it, and you will see that it is quite a personal and delicate ordeal. And though it doesn't relate to our married life, our story is incomplete without it, and we have decided to bring together the entire history of our explorations and tie it up with this little ribbon at last.

There are two reliable sources for this event, and more on that after all is told.

* * * * *

This happened in the mid '70s, before we were married; before I had ever met her.

Ellen had just turned 20. Her parents were wealthy Catholics who lavishly supported the regional seminary, a place where young men are trained into the priesthood. It was a brisk fall evening, and Ellen's family was playing host to a gaggle of select young seminarians and older teaching priests at their home in Grosse Pointe. After a very extravagant dinner, Ellen's parents joined the priests and a few of the older seminarians for a few drinks at a fashionable local watering hole. Ellen was not yet of legal drinking age, so she stayed behind in the house with four of the younger seminarians of the same cursed age while the older folks partied.

At 20, Ellen was a much wilder and slightly smaller version of herself in her prime. She had very wild black hair of medium length (as she does still), an angel face, and her body was beautiful but without the voluptuous bloom of her later years, and no, that is NOT French for "fat." She simply got more curvy as the years passed, but never fat. She was very intelligent then as now. And she was a devil. She was a devil among four seminarians, and she decided on the spur of the moment, that she was going to give these young wanna-be priests a baptism by fire.

I asked her about what was going through her mind at that point, and she told me that she was more excited than she had ever been before at what she hoped lay before her that night.

"Let's play some pool!" Ellen suggested with a big smile at the four ungainly lads sitting crouched in the parlor. She has always been an expert ice-breaker, and without fail the quartet stood to happy attention, and when they entered the family room/pool parlor she followed along with a beer each for the four young men. They happily accepted, though it was not entirely kosher that the boys should indulge.

The men paired off to play 8-ball in teams of two. While they played, Ellen made sure she had their peripheral attention. She wore a white pleated skirt modestly above the knee, white socks and little black leather shoes. Above the skirt, a red shirt with black buttons and long sleeves. A nice, a perfect, Catholic schoolgirl look. As the boys played they snuck looks at this angel. Naturally, their exposure to women was limited, but Ellen was not just your average girl. She was hot as hell, and she doted upon the lads.

At one point during the second game, Ellen pulled a long face and one of the men asked what was wrong.

"Oh, it's these shoes!" she whined. "I think I need to take them off." She looked around at the lads. "Do you mind?" Of course no one minded, and she sat on a sofa a few feet behind the pool table.

Now I will detail, briefly, who the boys were. Charles was a tall, gangly second-year man and the best of the pool players. Bill was a young first-year boy, young in all ways, with blond locks and always smiling. Aaron was a big and quiet boy, bespectacled and homely, and very prudish. The forth fellow was John, usually a wallflower but tonight he was completely hypnotized by Ellen and could not take his eyes off her.

So Ellen bent to see better the buckles of her shoes, spreading her knees artlessly to remove the stubborn footwear. The pool-playing ceased as the boys gaze lit on Ellen's display. You could see panties. White. Tan summer thighs right the way up. Ellen looked up so fast that they were all caught off-guard.

Ellen laughed a sound like the jangle of a crystal chandelier. "Oh! I'm sorry!" she gasped as she closed her knees. "Was I being immodest? Oh dear..." and she frowned a little frown.

The boys all blushed as a unit. Stammering that "it was all right" and "that's okay" and even a "we didn't look" coming from (who else) the prudish and slowly panicking Aaron. Slowly they resumed their game, giving sidelong glances at Ellen, who was now removing her little socks, then stretching out her naked calves displaying her angel feet and flexing her painted toes in relief.

"Aaahhhh... that feels so much better!!" The lads gaped, all noting the red polish on the nails of her wiggling toes. And just when they thought that the heat was off and they could resume the safety of their game, Ellen asked in a clear voice, "Do you men think I'm pretty?"

"I do," John piped instantly, and Ellen and two of the lads laughed.

Charles did not. He looked around for his coat, snatched it up, and said, "Goodnight all. This isn't for me."

Ellen looked crestfallen and Charles added quickly, "It's not you, Ellen. Thanks for your hospitality. And yes you are very pretty but I have to go now." And the other boys reminded him at once that they were three miles from the seminary gate, and it would be a long and cold walk, and why not just wait till the old guys got back and drove us home? But Charles would hear none of it, and was out the door with no more delay.

Ellen started to "cry." Tears. Woman's weapons. John and Bill were soon gathered about her in sympathy explaining that Charles was a strange guy and let's just forget all about this, but Aaron held back and looked uncomfortable, like he wasn't sure what to do. He took a seat in a large padded chair on the wall beside the pool table and forced a smile.

Ellen caressed the heads of the other two boys and gave each a kiss on the cheek, and then dried her tears with the back of her hand with a shy smile. Ellen stood, and brushed and straightened her skirt. She stepped away from her two admirers and then turned to face them. Aaron saw her in profile from the side of the room. She turned to look at Aaron and smiled at him. Aaron looked away.

"Men," she began carefully, "you're about to say goodbye to the world as priests, and in a few short years. I feel inspired tonight, to be a part of your transition. It's no coincidence that we have been so nicely thrown together tonight, here all alone, in perfect safety for what's likely to be at least a couple of hours to share among ourselves. But you're still seminarians. No vows yet."

Ellen stopped to look deep into the boys as they would allow. John and Bill were co-operating nicely, mesmerized by the charm of the girl, but Aaron was looking away again, tight lipped and stiff.

She went on. "So before it becomes a sin, share with me a little of yourselves, so that you come to know what you are sacrificing for your vocation. That will enrich your new life even more."

All three of the lads now wore a puzzled look. What in hell is she talking about, and what was about to happen? Ellen reached to the hem of her shirt and brought it over head in a graceful swish, and tossed the red shirt onto the sofa. She stood before them now in skirt and white lacy brassiere of medium size, a small red rose at the point of her cleavage, which revealed almost half of her heavy breasts. Young Bill stepped back and slipped back down on to the sofa. John remained standing. Aaron looked away with a reflex action.

Ellen stepped toward sitting Bill, and with her hands on his shoulders bent down to place her bust at his eye level. "Bill, look at my breasts. Can you imagine what they look like without my bra in the way?" As his eyes dined on the glory she gave him a moment to take it in. Then she straightened up and tousled his blond hair with both hands. "Bill, you a such a beauty. Any girl would be proud to have you."

Bill was red and flustered, but grateful. Not like a sex-king; like a grateful boy. John, still standing also feasted his eyes on her half-veiled breasts as she stood in front of him inviting his look.

John breathed in and as he let his breath out he sighed, "Ellen, your breasts are so beautiful."

"You're just guessing," she giggled.

She looked over at Aaron who would not meet her eye. She stepped toward him.

"I don't want anything to do with this!" he grouched. She stopped halfway.

"That's okay," she said gently.

"And those two!" he gestured toward the pair. "They know better!" He bent forward in his chair. "What's wrong with you two!" he demanded.

"Aaron, why don't you head back to the seminary?" Bill suggested carefully.

"I'm waiting for a ride."

"Well, Charles did it."

"Well, I'm not."

"You could leave the room, you know," John suggested.

"I'm fine right here," he said. "But you two shouldn't be playing this game."

"Why?" Bill asked, a little panicked. "You gonna rat us out?"

"I'm not a rat." Aaron looked away from them all. "I ain't no rat..."

"No," John said. "You're not. Bill didn't mean that."

"I'm sorry," Bill said.

Aaron was silent. He accepted another beer from Ellen and this seemed to take some of the bile out of him. He sat and brooded, but it was a little telling to all that he would not leave the room.

Ellen asked John to join Bill on the other side of the sofa, leaving an empty space in the middle. Standing between the lads, Ellen reached behind and unsnapped her bra. She had their full attention. She pulled her arms free of the straps while she held the cups to her chest, then slowly let the bra glide down, millimeter by millimeter, but the bra would not fall to the floor, because her erect nipples caught the inside top of the bra and there it rested. It was a trick she would use again in our adventures. She took her hands away and gently began to shake her breasts back and forth, and after a few moments of this entrancing activity, the bra fell from her nipples to the floor. The two men were in a trance. She backed away.

"You may not touch me," she announced.

The lads gave her a questioning look.

"There's nothing that can happen to you if you keep your hands away from me. But if you touch me, then that could mean trouble for you. You're seminarians, and I will not be responsible for anything bad to happen to you. If you just watch me, you'll have no worries. OK? I'll take the blame if I have to, but I won't lie."

And the men nodded assent, still under the spell.

At that Ellen began tweaking her pink nipples in little circles. "Mmmm... watch how long my nipples get... see?" Then she pulled on them, a little roughly. In a few short moments the nipples were long and hard. "My goodness, Bill! You have drool on your chin!" she noted playfully. He wiped it away to good-natured giggles from all, even Aaron. She continued to pull on her engorged nipples with closed eyes. "Oh, gawd... I wish you could suck on them." She sighed and said softly, "You know, in a girl, it's like there are wires running from her nipples right down to her pussy. Just doing this can get me so wet and worked up that I can cum just playing with my nipples."

And to the boys lasting memory, she did just that. She came. Right in front of them. She pressed her thighs together tightly and moved them in a small motion up and down while she played with nipples. Her body shook in little spasms and her breathing was fast, then halting, then fast and louder and then she let a small cry escape those angel lips, and then she stopped. She dropped her hands and hung her head, then cupped her pussy through the skirt and squeezed, and with that another little cry. It was astounding. Like a little sex miracle.

After a recovery moment Ellen raised up her head, opened her eyes, and reached under her white pleated skirt and slipped her panties down her long legs. She kicked out of them, reached to pick her panties up, and stood holding them, looking at the two boys on the sofa. She held them out in the space between the two sitting lads. It was John who leaned to the side and pressed his nose to the white cottons and breathed in sharply.

Ellen giggled. "You know, I read that some guys like to do that, but I could never imagine. I mean... girls can't imagine taking a big whiff of their guy's shorts, you know?"

Bill laughed. John looked at Ellen adoringly. "We're different," he mumbled. "You smell good."

"Well then," Ellen smiled, "I have a treat for you!" And at that she at last wiggled free of that pleated white skirt and stood before Bill and John completely, stunningly naked. Such a vision the lads had only seen before in the wettest of dreams. Ellen put a hand between her legs and massaged herself. "Mmmm... that feels nice... and look!" She brought her hand away slowly so that a few thin strands of her juices showed as she pulled away. She rubbed her fingertips together, and reached to hold her long fingers just under John's nose. He breathed deeply.

"Oh..." he closed his eyes and shivered. "Much stronger... so nice."

She giggled and offer Bill a whiff, which he sampled cautiously. She had forgotten about Aaron, but one glance to her side and she knew she had better not bother. He was looking away, though she had sensed him looking at her when she was playing with her nipples.

Now, she sat between the lads. "Why don't both of you handsome men kneel in front of me on the floor here." They complied. "Be sure not to touch me! You can't get in trouble if you just watch. I want you to touch me, both of you, desperately! But you mustn't." They pair backed away scant inches. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with an anatomy lesson." She called over to Aaron, "You're welcome, too, you know!" No response. Not even a glance.

The hypnosis commenced anew as she placed both feet up on the sofa on either side of her and opened her legs wide. She had a lot of black pubic hair back then, a sweet little nest, and as she stroked herself luxuriously, her wet pink crevice became more visible. This was accompanied by soft moans, both from her and her admirers. She spread her labia. "These are my pussy lips, see?" And the lads nodded. She rubbed at the nub atop the lips. "And this is my clitty." She massaged it with expert fingers that had obviously done this before.

She turned her head one to the other with a big smile, which the lads returned most gratefully. "And in here," she said, as she slipped her middle finger into her wet hole, "is where you would put you cocks." She stroked in and out slowly. "You know... if you weren't going to be priests."

The lads weren't listening. They were watching. Mesmerized.

Ellen pulled her finger out slowly and displayed it between the boys. It was wet. And she put it in her mouth.

"Oh my God," Bill said. Ellen turned to him and smiled like an imp. Then she made a request to the still-kneeling young men.

"Before I show you anything else-"

"There's more?" Bob asked.

She laughed. "Oh yes. There's more! But before we go on, well... I simply must see your cocks!"

None of the boys had bargained for this. Never even imagined it.

Aaron broke his silence. "Come on, guys! Don't do this!"

The other two lads looked over at him, but decided to ignore him. They knew that, whatever shape their lives would take, that this was a unique and memorable moment in their existence, and they would see it through.

"What should we do?" John asked.

"Strip from the waist down," Ellen suggested. "How's that sound?"

Almost robotically the two youths rose from their knees and began to disrobe. Ellen, still sitting in the middle of the sofa, snuck a sideways glance to observe Aaron hide his head in his hands as in deep shame. This troubled Ellen. (It still does, after 40 years.) She spoke to him.

"Aaron, this might sound strange to you, but I would love to see your cock. Girls like all kinds of cocks, and I can tell, trust me, that it would be a thrill for me to see." No response. "I would be honored... actually." Aaron looked up at her, and shook his head no. He looked away. She sighed and smiled wanly, and returned her attention to her frank admirers.

"Oh my!" she chirped as she was greeted by the sight of two fine, healthy, and very erect penises. "Oh! How lovely!" Now it was Ellen's turn to fall to her knees in front of the standing lads. First, the handsome Bill, who was blushing and whose breath was coming in irregular waves.

"Your cock is quite big!" she noted. And it was. Much larger than John's. It hung perfectly horizontal. "Flex it."

Bill's brow furrowed. "What? Do what?"

"You know. Flex your muscles down there. Make your cock bob up and down."

Bill did, and it was quite a feast for the eyes of the girl, who had some slight experience at this sort of thing, but was hardly jaded. She was fascinated by the size and motion of this lovely piece of boy-meat just inches away from her mouth. She opened her mouth and slowly pushed out her tongue coming within an inch of the head of the lad's penis. She made a licking motion, but never touching.

"There's not a girl I know that wouldn't want that cock in her mouth," she whispered, "I want to suck you so bad I can hardly..." And at that she moved a hand down between her legs and massaged, looking worshipfully into the blue eyes of the boy, who was swooning with want. She seemed to snap out of it. "Stroke it!" she commanded in a hoarse whisper. Bob complied, with long, slow strokes. She watched with breathless attention, then seemed to remember that they were not alone. "Oh. Thank you, Bob. That was lovely." And she scooted on her knees to worship from afar the cock of her admiring John.

"It's not as big..." John murmured, a little unhappy.

"Don't be silly. Girls like all sorts of cocks and appreciate the differences. Not like men, I guess. They just think big or small but for women there's a whole range of things."

Maybe she was just being nice, but this was happy news to John, and he felt a surge of blood to his perfectly normal-sized organ, which, unlike Bob's, was at a 45 degree angle toward the ceiling.

"Your cock is harder," she noted. "And the head is almost purple. Like it's angry!" she giggled. "You must really want me." She opened her mouth wide and until the head of his cock was actually inside the pink hot cavern of her mouth so that he could feel her breath, but there was still no contact. She backed away. "Stroke it."

And he did as directed, but stopped suddenly. "I'll spray cum all over your floor if I stroke it anymore."

"And I'll clean it up for you!" she chirped. She stood up, and rubbed her knees, looking over at Aaron.

"Aaron," she called.

"What." He actually responded! "Show me your cock? Stroke it for me? It's sad for me that you won't. So, please?"

Aaron was calmer, but waved her away. "No thanks." He would still have none of it.

Resigned, she looked about the room. The pool table in the center, the big sofa in back, the chair on the side, and a little writing desk in the corner. She spied something on it and brightened at once. She went to the table, jiggling in her glorious nudity, and found a chrome cigar tube about seven inches long and a good inch or so across. She turned to face the lads, now sitting back on the couch, with a smile of mischief on her angel face. She padded over toward the boys and stood, facing the pair, leaning her butt against the pool table.