I'll never forget the time or the place; Monday March 5th on the seventh green on the local golf course. I needed to sink a ten foot putt to put me three strokes clear of my partner Jack when he coughed, then said:
"Bob. What would you say if I asked you if you wanted to watch Ann masturbate?"
I had just lined up my shot but could not help lift my head and take my eyes off the ball. I was speechless, I felt flustered and uncomfortable. I hit the ball in the direction of the hole.The shot was way too hard but it rattled the pin, teetered on the edge of the hole and dropped in.
"Good shot." said Jack.
If it hadn't hit the pin, the ball would have continued a good thirty foot past!
Jack spoke again.
"I've spoken with Ann and she'd love it if you watched her. You both have my approval."
Ann was Jack's wife. We had been friends for four years since I had moved from England after the death of my wife. We were members of the same church. Before moving to the United States, I had been minister of a small country church in England. I had recently been appointed as deacon to the church at which Jack and Ann had been lifetime members.
Completely losing focus on the game, I dropped three shots on the next hole and hit double bogies on the next two. Jack maintained par on each and went four strokes clear. My pulse raced as the images raced through my mind. I became flushed and felt confused, but so incredibly turned on, which was evident by my huge erection.
My deeply-held religious beliefs and morals were facing a severe test. I prayed but there was no answer.
Neither Jack nor I had spoken a word since he had dropped his bombshell but as we approached the tenth tee, I broke the silence.
"If you're sure Ann and you are comfortable with the situation, I'm happy to go along with it."
I surprised myself how confident I had sounded. My breathing was deep but much steadier and I felt more relaxed and at ease with myself. My shot up the middle of the fairway was impressively long and left my ball in a near perfect lie. Jack hooked his tee shot into the trees.
Before looking for his ball, Jack took his cell phone from his pocket and appeared to send a text message. I didn't ask and he didn't say but I assumed he was texting Ann.
The rest of the round continued as though nothing untoward had happened. We chatted idly about golf and the new menu at the clubhouse. Jack edged the game by one shot.
Making a lame excuse, I declined to go for the customary post match drink and walked towards the car. When we were saying our goodbyes, Jack winked.
"We'll be in touch."
I had made an effort to go jogging three or four times a week but rarely do it after playing golf. That day, I ran five miles, pushing myself harder than usual. I spent the evening listening to music on my headphones and went to sleep with my mind empty of thought.
Just after three in the morning, I was woken by the climax of a wet dream.
It was my first dream of its kind in months and the wettest I'd experienced in years. The tell-tale patch was substantial. I cleaned myself up and spent the next hour thinking of Ann and wanking.
On Tuesday and Wednesday, I took the phone off the hook and remained indoors. My moods swung between lust and shame and with visions of Ann uppermost, I indulged in an orgy of masturbation.
I slept until nearly 11am on Thursday and, full of contrition, I set out for a long run before showering and changing. On Friday, I left the house early and set off on a long walk. I returned mid afternoon and replaced the phone. Jack rang ten minutes later.
"Can you meet Ann in your office in the church tomorrow afternoon at three?"
My mouth was dry and my reply a strangled croak.
"Yes."
There was a tremble in my fingers when I replaced the phone and when I sank to my knees, my whole body shook.
"Forgive me Lord for my sinful thoughts. Forgive me Lord. I am going to sin."
For the rest of the day, I thought mostly of Ann.
Ann was 20 years younger than me. A pair of thick glasses covered gray blue eyes which sometimes appeared to bulge with surprise behind the strong magnification. She wore her light brown hair short and had the figure of which any woman would have be proud. She seldom wore make up and her complexion was clear.
She had often told me that she and Jack were very much in love. She had once remarked that theirs wasn't always a conventional relationship, a statement I could now see in a different light.
I had been waiting at my desk in my office in the church when Ann knocked lightly on the door. She entered the room almost immediately after knocking and turned the key in the lock. She removed her coat, hung it on a peg and sat on a chair opposite my desk.
Her coat, which looked new and expensive, was black textured cotton, double breasted with two pocket flaps either side of pearl buttons. Underneath she revealed a simple white blouse and plain black skirt which was secured by a red leather belt and fell two inches below the knee.
Ann pressed the fabric of her skirt between her thighs and crossed her left leg over the right. She looked me directly in the eyes and began to rock gently back and fore, moving her left leg rhythmically up and down.
Every so often, Ann let out a gasp as she increased the speed and intensity of her leg movements. Then, without warning, she uncrossed her legs, grasped the hem of her skirt and lifted it above her waist.
