The Pastor's Wife

Posted previously as "Superfluity of Naughtiness"

Thank you, Rob, for the inspiration!

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When Barry told me that he was entering the ministry, I was excited. My fundamentalist upbringing taught me to respect our Pastors and honor their wives. It was the life that that newly engaged eighteen year old girl had dreamed of. I was innocent then. I am not now.

We were married when I had just turned nineteen and Barry was 24, fresh from his MDiv graduation. The wedding was on our family farm among the brothers and sisters of our community. It was a lovely ceremony and the proper way for us to start our lives together.

We lived with my parents for only a few weeks before Barry received his first call. It was a small independent Baptist church in a small town in Georgia, far away from our farm in Indiana. We packed up our meager belongings and headed to Siler's Farm, Georgia. My life was about to change.

When we arrived, there was an entourage to greet and welcome us. You will meet them as they parade through this account, so, suffice it to say, everyone important was there.

The day was full of unloading and unpacking and arranging. Everyone was super helpful but by mid-afternoon, they drifted away two-by-two. Only Frank and Millie Arthur remained.

Frank was a deacon in the church and the high school's football coach. He was built appropriately: Six feet and muscled. The T-shirt and jeans he wore clearly displayed his dedication to fitness. His ability to lift heavy objects was much appreciated by all.

Millie was a bit taller than me with long chestnut hair and brown eyes. She was older than me, too. Frank was, also. Actually, every adult I knew was older than I was; the curse of marrying at nineteen. Anyway, Millie's figure was more filled out than mine. Even now, I can still buy clothes in the juniors section. Millie needs a woman's fit.

We soon became best friends. Millie worked as the school secretary and would often come by the house on her lunch break and after school. We would share tea and she would tell me about the town and the church; just normal girl talk. Until that one day.

We'd known each other for about six months when she arrived for her lunch break looking very concerned. I invited her in and we sat at the kitchen table. "What's wrong, dear?" I asked her.

She looked at me with those brown eyes and said, "Frank and I had a fight last night and I've been avoidin' him all day at school. I don't want to see him tonight." It always amazes me that even news like this, when conveyed with a southern drawl, sounds mild.

I patted her hand. "Oh, dear. Well, all couples fight," I said. I knew this was true, mostly. Barry and I never fought. I know now that our peace was due to my inner agreement to always obey my husband. I did everything he asked or directed; no problems. "What was the argument about, Millie? Maybe I can help?"

"Oh, Linz," she said, dejectedly. "I shouldn't burden you with it. 'Sides, it's rather," here she paused and looked at me, "personal."

'Linz' was Millie's nickname for me. My real name is Lindsay Victoria Hughes Grant. I liked 'Linz'. I gripped her hand in mine. "We're friends, right, Millie?" She nodded softly. "Then, if I can help, I want to help."

"I'm actually 'fraid to tell you, Linz. I'm 'fraid you'll think I'm...I'm not a nice person."

At this, I was astonished. "Millie Arthur! I would never think that of you."

She bit her lip. "Well, okay. But you have to promise not to tell nobody. I mean it." I nodded in agreement and left a space for her to continue. "Well, last night, Frank and I were in bed, you know, doin' it."

I blushed and tried to be grown up about what I was hearing. That's hard at nineteen. I mean, I knew all married couples had sex, it was natural. I just never thought of the people I knew having sex. That was embarrassing. She knew I was having trouble but I invited her to continue. "Go on."

"Well, I've been sort of, missin' something, in that area, and I asked Frank if he would..umm...do that to me."

And now I was lost. I thought to myself, I really needed some nouns. I tilted my head. "You might need to be more specific, hun. I'm not tracking you."

She sighed. "This is really embarrassin', Linz. Maybe I shouldn't..."

"No," I said, "no. Say what you need to say, Millie. I will not judge you. I promise."

"Well," she began, obviously struggling with whatever the problem was, "I...back in college, you know, I had this...friend." Her face became flushed as she talked and her fingers twitched slightly in my hand.

"Yes. Go on."

"Ummm...it was an all-girl school...and...we were really good friends." Her eyes stared into mine. "Really good," she repeated, squeezing my hand.

"Okay," I said, still attempting to follow her thoughts. She interrupted the pause.

"Have you ever kissed a girl?" she blurted out.

"What? I...No! Why would I do that?" Her brown eyes were still on mine, staring, questioning, pleading. My mind began to whirl. If Millie was a lesbian, what did that mean about her marriage? And if she WAS a lesbian, what did that mean about us? "Millie...I...I don't know what to say. I've never even thought..."

And while I was still fumbling in my thoughts, she kissed me.

The initial shock of her lips touching mine turned to warmth, on my lips and face. She pulled back and smiled awkwardly. I put my fingers to my lips. "Why...why did you do that? What..."

"Was it all that bad?" she asked.

"No," I had to admit, "it was...ummm...warm." I smiled back at her and she leaned toward me again. This time I leaned in, too. Our lips met again and that warmth became a spark.

Barry was the first man, person, I had ever kissed on the lips. Our kisses were dutiful, even mandatory. This kiss with Millie was something else. Her hand reached over and supported my head as she softly and gently moved her mouth on mine. Barry never kissed me this way and I could feel my body responding in ways I'd never felt before.

It seemed like hours before we parted. My breathing had become quicker and I know my pulse had, as well. "Millie," I started to say. She placed a finger on my lips.

"Shh...I want to make a deal with you, okay?"

I nodded.

"I know you have no experience in this and that the thought might even revolt you. But I can feel something. Your head is going to fight against your body until you can make peace. I just..." she paused as her eyes searched mine, "I just need this. I'm not asking you to do anything, okay? I'll do everything. But ever since we met," she bit her lip and blushed, "I've wanted to taste you."

I heard her, every word, I heard. She was right, my head was fighting my body. And, even though my body had no idea where this was going, it was agreeing with Millie's need. My head, however, was screaming. Lesbianism is a sin. It is a sin for a woman to lie with another woman. I had heard my Grandfather railing against it from the pulpit.

But that kiss. Her lips on mine. Even now, her finger. Every fiber of my body was screaming back at my head: 'let it go!'

"What do you want me to do?" I timidly asked.

She smiled and stood and took my hand. "You have a guest room. Let's go there, okay?"

I nodded and let her lead me. We walked down the hallway decorated with our wedding pictures and scripture quotations and all I could see was Millie's beautiful body leading me.

We stepped into the guest bedroom and she closed the door. Then she walked over to me and kissed me again. This time, my arms encircled her as hers did me. We pulled each other closer. The heat from our bodies felt like it would burn our clothes away. So, it was a relief when I felt her fingers pull the zipper of my dress

down my back.

I found her zipper and reciprocated. Our hands ended up on each other's asses. Her was round and full and I couldn't help but to squeeze it as her hands squeezed and pawed mine.

Eventually, she stepped back and pressed my dress over my shoulders and watched it fall to the floor. I was wearing my usual white bra and sensible panties. But the dullness of my undergarments didn't stop Millie from saying, "God, Linz, you're beautiful."

I felt a shiver run though my body. I had only heard those words twice in my life. From my mother on my wedding day and from Barry on our wedding night, before he turned the lights off. Here I stood in the daylight, nearly naked in front of a woman who, before this afternoon, was just my best friend.

She took her index finger and placed it on the bone at the base of my neck and drew a slow line down, between my small breasts, then down further, to my belly button. Goosebumps ran over my arms.

She reached back up and both index fingers traced the top of my bra, from the center over and up, stopping at the straps on my shoulders. Her eyes smoldered on mine. "May I?"

My head was screaming 'NO'. My body nodded 'yes'. I felt the straps slide to the edge of my shoulders and slip down my arms. I bit my lip as she reached behind me and unclasped it, then removed it.

I could feel my face blush at the exposure. Millie sensed my unease and leaned in for a gentle kiss. "I'll stop if you say 'poodle', okay?" I nodded. She kissed me again. "That's called a safe word. Just say 'poodle' and everything stops." Her kisses traveled down my neck.

My head was screaming 'poodle' even as my arms reached around her to feel the skin on her back. Her dress was still on. As her kisses moistened my skin, I yearned to slip her dress to the floor.

She must have read my body. So, as her kisses traveled ever downward toward my breasts, she shimmied off her dress. I pulled her to me. Between kisses, she muttered, "take mine off, Linz."

My fingers shook as I found the clasps. My head's screaming protests were fading as I undid it. She shrugged it off and I felt her bare breasts on mine and I sighed.

She began to step us to the bed and turned and laid me back on top of the frilly, flowery cover. I looked up at her beautiful topless form. Her Chestnut hair softly caressed her bare shoulders. Her full breasts, easily 36Ds, seemed to me the embodiment of forbidden fruit.

As I stared and drank her in, her fingers played with my small breasts, teasing my nipples to hardness, making me feel things I'd never felt. She stopped and stood upright. "Lindsay," she said, "I want you to see me...all of me."

I watched her press her French-cut panties down. They fell to her ankles and I saw another woman's sex for the first time. She was hairless. "Oh, Millie, you're gorgeous."

"My turn," she said with a grin as she reached for my panties and slid them down my thighs. I blushed knowing that I, myself, was untrimmed. My orange bush was not unruly, just unmanicured. Millie didn't mind. "What a gorgeous cunt."

"Millie!" Her language shocked me.

She just laughed. "You're going to learn a whole new vocabulary, my sexy friend," she teased as she climbed up on the bed. Our naked bodies felt more right than wrong to me. The screaming in my head was only a soft murmur of complaint as I felt her fingers travel down and over my belly. She kissed me gently. "You okay?"

I nodded and looked deep into her brown eyes. "Don't stop." Her fingers played in my pubes and I groaned. They traveled to my pussy and I grabbed the bed covers. No one, except for myself and the old OB/GYN back home had ever touched me there; not even Barry.

She rubbed that hard knot at the top that always made me giddy. "Your clit is so hard. Linz," she purred. I filed away another new word. She just kept rubbing it in tiny circles causing waves of pleasure to ebb and flow through me.

Soon I felt her lips kissing the tops of my breasts; tender, warm, moist kisses that soon became sucks on my nipples. "Oh my gosh, Millie. What are you..." But I couldn't finish. She had sucked in one nipple so hard that it felt as if it were connected directly to my pussy. My back arched and I moaned in pleasure.

She pulled and tugged on it, eventually pulling back and letting it pop out of her mouth. She moaned with me. "Damn, I missed this." She repeated the same activity on my other breast with the same results. "You're so hot, Linz," she cooed as she returned to soft kisses all over my breasts.

"What are you doing to me?" I softly moaned, not as a question but more like a statement. "These feelings..."

"Are they new? Barry's never given you these?" As she asked that, I felt her finger drag down the lips of my pussy.

I moaned again and said, "Neverrrrr...no one...everrrrr."

I felt her adjust her body and I opened my eyes to see her brown ones staring at me. I smiled. She said, "Linz, I want to do something else, okay?"

"Gosh," I said, "There's more?"

Millie giggled. "Much more, baby. And remember, I'll stop if you say 'poodle', okay?"

I nodded and bit my lip. I had no frame of reference for what Millie was doing and certainly none for what she was about to do. I only knew that what ever it was, it made me feel amazing and I wanted more.

I felt her slip down on the bed and gently press my thighs apart. Next, I felt her warm breath on my sex but nothing prepared me to feel her tongue. It was that first lick, that long lap up my slit, that delivered to me my first lesbian orgasm. Actually, my first orgasm, ever.

"OH-OH-OHHHHHH," I squealed as my body tensed, then relaxed and released that wave of satisfaction that knows no equal. "Millie....Millie..." I moaned.

"What...what happened?"

Millie looked up and licked her lips. "You, my sexy friend, just had your first orgasm."

"Oh...oh my," I said, panting. "I want more of those."

"And more you shall have." A beat later, I felt her tongue on me again, bathing me with her spit, flicking over my sensitive lips. I was sweating and dripping and moaning.

Up until that point, my gauge for pleasure peaked at the first time I rode a horse bareback. As unlady-like as that was, GrandPa (not the preacher) was convinced that even young girls should know horses. The feeling of that power under me and the wind through my hair was exhilarating. -- If that was a ten....this was a one hundred.

Millie didn't stop. She devoured me, urging my body ever higher. I lost count of the times I toppled over the edge and plummeted into her love. She had won. I was totally turned on to what she offered me. She never made me reciprocate. She didn't even ask.

Later, as she held me in her arms, the both of us naked on the guest room bed, she kissed my head. "You okay, Linz?"

I looked up at her. "Millie? How can I thank you?"

She laughed lightly, "Don't worry, Lindsay, I'll teach you that, too. When you're ready."

I hugged her tight and kissed her neck. The taste of her salty skin lingered in my mouth. "What about Barry?" I asked softly.

"What about him?"

"How can I....ever...."

She hugged me tight. "Baby, you're still Barry's wife. You'll still do what he wants. Maybe this will make you enjoy it better. I know I'll enjoy Frank better knowing I have you around."

"So...so you're not a...lesbian?"

"No," she laughed. "I'd call myself a Hedonist. But labels are misleading."

"Is that a college word for 'sinner'?"

"I guess. Does it matter? Doesn't Barry tell us that we're all sinners?"

I snuggled in closer to her. "Yeah. He does. A lot."

We cuddled for a bit longer before Millie said, "I need to be gettin' home, baby. Frank will be wantin' his supper." We kissed, long, loving kisses. She smiled at me. "Remember, if you get 'buyer's remorse', just tell me, okay? We'll always be friends, Lindsay. But I do want you to know that I'm totally down for becoming lovers."

That night, as I lay on her back and allowed Barry to perform his husbandly duty, all I could see was Millie's face between my thighs. Unfortunately, that did little to coax another orgasm. After Barry mercifully collapsed on his side of the bed, I retreated to the bathroom and enjoyed myself with Millie on my mind.

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It was a Friday, a week and two days had passed since Millie first introduced me to her other world. It was a world we'd visited often since. We became quite comfortable with each other and, yes, I eventually reciprocated her love.

It was that next Sunday evening, in fact. Both Barry and Frank were at the Deacons' meeting. I was at her house. We positioned ourselves in a "sixty-nine" on our sides and she told me to do to her what she was doing to me.

It is very difficult to describe the feeling of the first time one is so close to another's sex. There was a thrill - of the unknown, of the taboo, of the promise of release. All of those played their part in that first sniff, that first lick, and my eventual, and enthusiastic, first cunnilingus. After I tasted her nectar, I was hooked ever so deeper.

The next Friday, Barry had left for a Pastor's conference in Macon. It was all that day and next. He was expected to return early Saturday evening. It was four in the afternoon and Millie said she couldn't come over because of Frank. I retrieved a book I'd been wanting to read and hunkered down on the sofa with a glass of tea.

At 4:30, someone was knocking on our door, and forcibly so. I rose and opened the door to find Frank Arthur scowling. "MRS. Grant," he said, emphasizing the 'Mrs.', "I need to have a word with you." And without an invitation, he stormed past me into the sitting room.

I followed. "Mr. Arthur!" I protested. "You cannot simply barge in --"

Spinning back to me, he fired away: "What did you do with my Millie!"

I paused in mid-objection. What had *I* done with Millie, I thought. What had Millie done with *me*! But I knew I couldn't say that. Instead, I played the innocent child card. That was when I could still pull it off. "Mr. Arthur, I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play the school girl with me," he steamed. "She told me what you two did. What....what disgusting acts you did!" His voice became slower and deeper.

Millie told him! Why? Why would she have done that? "Please, Mr. Arthur. I....I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, which was never good for me then. Back then I could never pull off a lie. I've learned. But this one, he saw straight through.

"The Pastor's own wife! A depraved lesbian!"

"No," I protested as I backed away from him toward the sofa. "No...I...I'm not a...." Then my phone signaled a text. I glanced at it. It was Millie. Frank stewed by the mantle as I read: 'is he there?' To which I replied: 'YES'. Her response was 'on the way.' I breathed a sigh of relief. "Millie's on the way, Frank. I know we can clear this all up." I hoped so, anyway. There was no way Millie would hang me out like this.

"I think it's all pretty clear from here," he growled.

There was a palatable tension in the room by the time Millie arrived. In that moment, I thought it was from Frank's anger. Now I know it was a sexual tension. Millie's voice was hard and steady. "Frank, you need to go home. Now."

"Why?" he asked, taking a step toward her. "So you can be alone with your whore girlfriend?" The shock of that statement was only surpassed by the shock of seeing Millie slap her husband's face. Then, as if it weren't all confusing already, Frank just grinned. "fine," he said coolly, "I'll be at home." And he left.

I was speechless. Millie came to me and hugged me and kissed me gently. When I could finally speak, I said, "Why? Why did you tell him? What's to happen to me now?" As I spoke, tears formed in my eyes and the reality of what I'd done began to sink in.

Millie kissed me and smiled at me. "Linz, everything will be okay. you'll see. I know a way to force Frank to keep quiet. Neither Barry nor the church will ever know."

I blinked my wet eyes at her. "How?" I asked, sniffing back a tear.

Millie reached over a grabbed a tissue from the box on the end table. I took it and she continued. "For all of Franks' bluster, he's not repulsed by the idea of you and me."