The Vicar's Wife Ch. 02

In 'The Vicar's Wife', I told you how I got involved with Susanna, our Vicar's wife, and the wonderful sex we enjoyed together in the full flush of our lives. This story happened some months after - it was unbelievable! If you are deeply religious, perhaps you should skip this one.

After the Sunday service, whilst waiting for our husbands, Susanna, the Vicar's wife, took me to one side outside the church. Susan and I had found an unexpected, but very delightful, joint sexual interest. Being recently invited for lunch at the Vicarage, whilst our husbands were attending a meeting with the Bishop, I found that food wasn't the only thing on offer. But Sue's vulva was!

Susanna was in her late thirties, tall and elegant, with chestnut-coloured hair in a sensible cut. Her face was attractive, though not conventionally beautiful, with a slightly pinched nose that was a bit too long and a mouth rather too wide, though full-lipped. Her brown eyes were set slightly further apart than is usual. She was a serious, sober lady, not given to flippancy or laughter. As the vicar's wife, she looked every inch the part. But looks can be misleading.

From meeting her at the very start, I found I was attracted to her. I had not felt the least bit interested in women before! Except for the odd grope with my old friend, Charlotte, during a friendly kiss after a few drinks. And the usual schoolgirl explorations of course. Ah well! But Susanna, when I got to know her, was very different. A sex bomb with a most marvellous vulva!

I keep it neatly trimmed for her with a ladies electric razor. And, of course, many kisses planted on her labia, and tongue in her vestibule and clit, whilst I'm attending to her appearance. A succession of orgasms, of varying intensities, is the invariable result. Then Sue will return the pleasure with my own vulva, Not anything like as hirsute as hers - but a few stray hairs are usually there for her to attend to.

'Sarah. You won't believe this, darling, but I do believe that the Bishop's wife is interested in a bit of playtime. And with me!'

I laughed. The idea of the Bishop's wife being bisexual was absurd.

'I meant to phone you, but didn't get the chance - might have been overheard,' she added

'What happened to make you think she's one of us, Sue?'

'Well, she is almost twenty years the Bishop's junior. As far as I know she joined his congregation the year before he was made Deacon. Well, that was twenty years ago now. And being the wife of the Bishop can't be all that sexually satisfying.'

'Perhaps God's blessing is enough for her physical needs.'

'Sarah! Don't be blasphemous.'

'Well, I hardly know her. But a less likely sexy person I can't imagine.'

Indeed, I had only met Hannah on one occasion, at some festival or other at the Cathedral. My husband had been invited to play the organ for part of the celebrations. Hannah's husband became elected to the bishopric twelve years ago. Hannah would now be around forty-five I would imagine.

About my age. Ah, in that case, she might well be feeling rather over-sexed, I thought. A resurgence of sex often accompanies the forties. That why life begins there, I guess! Anyway, the thought of Hannah having sexual demands gurgling inside her loins, and an interest in other women, intrigued me. Well, Susanna is rather a stunner. Anyway, I asked her how she had reached that conclusion about the Bishop's wife.

'Well, our eyes met over the coffee break - across the room and all that - and I just knew. You remember how our own eyes locked together during that lunch. Well... she had that haunted, come hither look. When I got chance, I spoke to her. I said how thrilled I was that she was there, and I hoped she didn't mind my saying so, but I wanted to make to love to her.'

'Nothing like a direct approach, darling. I beg your pardon madam, but do you fuck, by any chance?' I laughed. 'But that's how you and I came to be lovers, isn't it?'

'Yes... Well, we both knew what we wanted, but she looked startled, I must say - blushed, and muttered an excuse to walk away to chat to someone else. That's blown it, I thought. But that wasn't the end if it.'

'Go on, surprise me.'

'She phoned me the next morning to apologize. She said it was the suddenness of the remark that had caught her off guard. Would I forgive her, and could she come over for a coffee sometime. Well, the upshot was that she did call in for coffee a few days later, and I explained to her that I had a lovely friend with whom I was very intimate, and met with now again, to examine the other's underwear and what was beneath it.'

'If we weren't standing here, Sue, I'd give you a passionate kiss and feel your sloppy pussy right now. You're turning me on.'

'And you'd find it dripping wet, darling,' she responded quietly with a smile, whilst turning to nod farewell to a couple leaving the church. 'I think we should go home to make love on your bed. I need to feel your lovely, private lips, with your hot breath on mine.'

'Fat chance,' was my response. The day was spoken for. I smiled, and waved across to some friends who were leaving.

'Look! The Bishop is coming here next Sunday. Special service for some civil anniversary or other. Make sure you're here. We'll find an excuse to skip the service. Play it by ear. Wear some evocative underwear. We'll give Hannah a lingerie fashion show.'

She gave me a light kiss on the cheek, whispering 'I want to fuck you darling. Bye.'

With that, the vicar's wife strolled away to greet other parishioners with her warm, ingenuous smile. Little would they guess that her knickers were at this very moment, hot and slippery with lustful desire - or at least, the panty liner. So was mine! I gazed after her finding it hard to believe that we were so intimate with each other. Looking at her, nothing could be further from the possibility that Sue had salacious thoughts behind that smile. It was great though. Made a change from Simon, bless him. I wonder what he would say if he knew! Blimey!

My thoughts wandered to Hannah several times during the week. I checked out a few photographs in the local archives and discovered that she was indeed, twenty years her husband's junior. The news had caused something of a stir at the time, but he was only a lowly parish priest at the time. She was by no means a pretty woman, but had a fresh innocent-looking face, with sparkling eyes, a peaches and cream complexion, and her appearance gave the impression of her being several years younger! Ye-e-e-s! She could be interesting.

Her figure was likewise, that of a younger person. Now, of course, some twenty years later, though still slender, her hips looked to have filled out and her breasts as well. I speculated, as is my wont, what her pubic region was like. Her hair was a nondescript mousey color, though nicely arranged. Well, I thought, I might just get the chance to find out.

It might be as well if I mentioned right at the start, that after our meeting together, Hannah wrote to Sue about her marriage with Jonathan, and Susanna gave me a copy of it. I couldn't do any better than reproduce her letter here, so that you will have some idea of her background, right from the beginning, which is more than Sue and I had at the time of the event which was to follow.

This is the relevant part of what she wrote, skipping the usual introductory pleasantries. It was a long letter! But stick with it!

I was brought up by severe, strict religious parents, being warned by my mother to beware of anything to do with boys. They only want one thing, she insisted, and they'll do anything - promise anything - to get it. At first, it wasn't clear to me just what the 'one thing' they wanted was, but I did learn as I grew up. You learn a lot form other girls at school. Much of it quite misconstrued of course, because they, too, had little or no experience of sex.

Naturally, being a dutiful daughter, I accompanied them to church regularly, and had nothing to do with boys at all. Never even got kissed! So when I married Jonathan, I was still a virgin in every sense of the word, at 25. Jonathan was our vicar, and there were stories circulating about him having affairs with some of the married women in the parish - but (as he later explained) there always are such rumors around every parish. If its not married ladies, it's the choirboys. I should ignore such rumors. As I grew older, I took an interest in Sunday School and ran classes. I then got involved in the ladies circle, helping to organise festivals and things.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, one day he approached my parents to ask f they would have any objection if he proposed marriage to me. He told them that if he wanted to progress in the Church, he really needed a wife beside him, to prove his respectability to everyone, and to smother all these silly rumours about him. And one rather younger than himself would be a distinct advantage.

There was certainly no prospect of me finding any other suitable suitor - most of the men of my age had already married - and I had the reputation of being a confirmed spinster. There was never any suggestive gossip circulated about me. I was as pure and chaste as the Virgin herself. As far as I was concerned, my parents wouldn't live forever, and I would eventually need some security for my later years. So, after much souls searching, it was agreed.

I was rather keen on horse riding, and naturally, there were times when I saw a horse's penis, and some friends had dogs that exposed their penises now and agin, but apart from that I was totally ignorant of sexual matters. Coincidentally, the horse riding stretched my hymen, though I didn't know about such things at the time. I was staying with my aunt when I had my first show of a period - of course, I was scared to death, but she explained about these things to me and gave me my first tampon.

So, after Lionel and I became engaged (much to the disapproval of some of the mature ladies of the Parish I may add), knowing how unlikely it was that my mother would have told me the facts of life, Jonathan decide to instruct me himself. This had the approval of my father, who could never have brought himself to tell me about such things. In fact, I was surprised that they had actually fornicated to have me. But there you are!

We met in the privacy of the vicarage. Jonathan had a cleaner and helper who came in each morning, preparing his lunch amongst other duties around the vicarage. Otherwise, he was on his own. He was plausible and very persuasive. Kind and sympathetic. I visited him for private tuition twice each week, listening to his arguments for the adoration of the body, and through the body, to reach out for Christ. There was never any attempt by him to molest me in any of these lessons, though it eventually became necessary, during the tuition, for him to expose his genitals to me.

Although, as I said, the penis was no stranger to my eyes, this was my first sight of a fully developed penis at such close quarters. My eyes widened at the sight of it. It really was a handsome penis. Hard and stiff, ready for my inspection. Jonathan explained that it was his penance to have an almost permanently erect phallus, in God's name. Only after the holy act of fornication was he allowed a brief respite from the stiffness, he said. It was an embarrassment to him at times, but it was His will that it should be so. To be always ready to perform God's will. The pubic curls were like interlaced strands of gold. Glittering in the sunlight, they were like a halo glowing round the base of his penis. A truly holy weapon. I fell in love the penis - the idol of God. Mankind's supreme power.

There was no threat in any of these lessons. During one of them, having careful examined the solid, pale shaft, crazed with light blue veins, I asked how it was possible for such a thick shaft to penetrate the small orifice of a woman?

'Show me yours,' he said softly, 'and I'll explain.'

Of course, the time had to come when I had to show him my own most private parts. But I now trusted Jonathan, so had no worries about it. I gladly removed my knickers and skirt to expose my own brown curls and wrinkled, pink folds to his examination. He reached forward, opened my thighs wide, bending my knees to get a clear view. Lionel kneeled between my thighs, to examine my anatomy with great delicacy and seriousness. Gently parting the labia, he peered into the now wet orifice.

'There! Everything is normal.' he explained. 'Never be concerned about the secretions from your vulva,' he told me. 'That is one of God's masterstrokes. For it is that which allows the reception of the man's phallus. It is necessary to lubricate the passage, for ease of comfort and enjoyment. To allow the male shaft to enter into your body. Don't worry, your folds of flesh will stretch and open out like petals to allow penetration without any pain. These secretions are merely a sign that your body is ready for penetration. Ready to enter into the joy of holy union. And the small bud at the top of the crevice, will give you untold joy.'

Shortly after that, I was told that I was ready to see the holy spirit leave Jonathan, which would be his part in the culmination of the act of worship. He sat open legged before opening the folds of his robe. I was asked to study his ready penis in detail. Encouraged to accept it by planting a kiss on the tip of the holy staff. I learned about the testicles and their part in the sexual cycle.

'Thy staff and rod, they comfort me,' Jonathan explained, 'is an indication by implication that the Bible clearly expects mankind to seek and enjoy comfort from man's erect penis.'

He slowly worked his shaft up and down in his palm, showing me the working of the foreskin, explaining the significance of the movement. Encouraged by him, I took hold of it myself, copying his movement. His calmness began to desert him as his loins started to twitch and jerk. The spasms became more pronounced, his breathing laboured.

'Now,' he gasped, 'you are about to witness the coming of the Holy Spirit.' His groin muscles tightened, the buttocks flexed. 'Watch... the result of that... stimulation of the penis. Argh!' I stared in awe as the jets of starchy liquid suddenly spurted from the end of it. Each jerk of his loins gushed forth globs of it, spraying over my wrist and arm, until the muscular spasms subsided.

This became a regular happening, until shortly before the wedding, Lionel asked me to strip off and put on a white surplus. I did this. He too was wearing a surplus over his cassock. He led me into the private chapel, up to the altar. There we knelt and prayed together.

'Bless the flesh of this lady, your newest recruit to the Kingdom of Heaven. Give her joy in her heart. Fill her with thy mercy and Holy Spirit.'

Standing once more, the priest gently lifted me to face the cross on the altar.

'Lean against the holy altar for support. Relax. Open your body ready to receive the love of God in your personal secret shrine, endowed in his wisdom.'

Propping myself against the edge of the altar, legs spread wide, face lifted to heaven, I found myself crying out. 'Take me into thy bosom, O Lord Jesus.' As I cried out, Lionel lifted the hem of my surplus, draping it over my waist, before sprinkling holy water over my loins.

'May the grace of our Lord enter into His servant's loins. Fill it with Thy spirit that it may anoint the young virgin with Thy baptismal waters.'

'Amen,' I muttered in response.

As he spoke, he raised the hem of his garments, saying, 'With this holy instrument, I thee wed in the name of Christ the Lord. Take it and revere it for ever, for it is thine to have and to hold from this day forth.'

I felt his cock penetrate my vagina - being penetrated for very the first time, whilst he began to recite the Lord's Prayer. As the prayer came to an end, Lionel cried out. 'With the contents of this hold rod I thee endow. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

I felt the muscles in his buttocks tense. They paused before giving an abrupt jerk. There followed several more spasmodic thrusts of his buttocks announcing the release of the holy spirit into my willing shrine, running with its internal holy tincture.

'Alleluia!' we cried out together.

When it was all over, Lionel stepped back. I felt his penis slip out of me. I was no longer a virgin.

We married soon after, and Lionel wanted to seduce me at the altar every time for a while. But we soon settled down to a less uncomfortable position, lying in bed, with Jonathan on top of me, my thigh wrapped round his thighs.

Then he was made Deacon, then Bishop, and our sex life has dwindled to almost nothing these days. But my loins were still requiring some satisfaction. Masturbation was something alien to me - I had never come across it, not even in school! So our meeting last week end was a revelation to me. The first real orgasm I've ever had. And I mean, real. Then, Jonathan made love to me again that night - well had sex with me - for the first time in ages. Not only that, but he took me again the following morning, would you believe? But I never achieved anything like the orgasm I did with you and Sarah. I wait with unbridled frustration for the next time.

* * * * * * * * *

So, to skip the lead up the visit of the Bishop and his wife, the three of us made our excuses for the morning service, agreeing to join them for the main event in the afternoon. Susanna brought in the coffee and biscuits, and the three of us sat around chatting. Hannah was wearing an attractive burgundy-coloured jacket, with a three-quarter length full skirt and a lace blouse. She was, as usual, without makeup, looking fresh and cheerful.

It was Sue who started the ball rolling.

'Well, time to exchange views of our underwear. We keep these out our husband's way,' she explained, 'keeping them strictly between ourselves. I shall begin.'

Sue took to the centre of the carpet - I took up the commentary. We had already discussed the previous day what we should wear for this special occasion.

Sue deftly untied the belt of her wrap-around dress, and slipped it from off her shoulders, to drape behind her from the elbow. 'Here, Hannah, you see that we have Susanna wearing a skin-tone basque by Candice, delicately cut in claret silk, with the finest Belgian lace trimmings, with matching sheer silk stockings and the briefest of thongs'

The basque she was wearing was of a sexy transparent mesh, with a disguised centre zip fastener, delicate frilled edging and trim. The matching thong had side bows and suspenders held up the silk stockings. It was all very revealing and stylish. It suited Sue's figure, giving gentle support to her heavy breasts whilst accentuating her large areolas and brown nipples. She sashayed in front of Hannah, showing first one profile, then the other before swiftly unzipping the bodice and opening it out. Her large breasts sprang out, swaying before Hannah's eyes. Sue caressed them seductively before untying the bow of her thong.

'A wonderful pair of boobs, with plenty of flesh to fondle,' I explained. 'Large, suckable nipples and a lovely, warm pussy to grope.'

With a graceful swing of her arms combined with a pirouette, during which Sue disrobed, she ended in a second arabesque position, breasts dangling from the rib-cage, arms held out in triumph, naked in front of me and Hannah. The arabesque gave us a glimpse of her plump genitals, the puffed labia thrusting from the hair-covered slit and her swollen clit.

I could see that Hannah was astonished by this act. Not by the act itself, but because I realised that Hannah was looking at Sue with new interest. It was as though she was seeing her as through a man's eyes. She was voluptuous and desirable. Big breasts, large areolas and superb thighs. And a succulent set of labia. As Sue completed her arabesque her eyes met Hannah's and I suspect both knew in that instance that they wanted to make love, to explore the other's body. The look between them lingered, making quite sure that I had read the message correctly.