A Wee in Boise

The Bet—Day 4

I slept in the morning of Day 4, a Saturday. When I awoke, sometime around 11, Kat was gone. She left a note:

Marvelous evening. I had to go to breakfast with my parents this morning and then to work after that. See you at the Rev's Labor Day Service.

Love,

Kat

"Oh," I groaned. I certainly hope she isn't in love me, I thought. I haven't gotten over my break-up with my California girlfriend. Kat's nice. Really nice. But not yet.

The Rev and his lusty wife weren't around. I dressed in running clothes and took another crack at running the hills behind Boise. As I ran I couldn't help but think about how my life had changed. If I had kept my company and stayed in Palo Alto, I would have spent the last few days working 12 hour days and wrestling with a never ending stream of management chores—meetings with code hackers who weren't meeting their time tables or couldn't find the bugs that were keeping their code from running, meetings with lawyers who were worried about intellectual property, or employee harassment issues, or something else I never knew mattered, meetings with accountants who were worried about—well things I couldn't even comprehend (those guys have their own world with their own set of rules. Sort of like Minecraft, but way more boring), meetings with my equity investors who worried about everything, but always wanted solutions faster. Ugh!

Instead I had spent the time in warm, sunny Idaho and not thought about much of anything except sex. What an improvement. I had to admit to myself, that my sex life in Palo Alto for the six months after my girlfriend and I had split up and I dedicated my energies to selling the company had been virtually non-existent. But the last few days had made up for lost time. I chuckled when I thought about the wicked thoughts I had about the real estate lady who had toured me through rental units a couple of days earlier. I hadn't done or said anything inappropriate, but it was a good thing she couldn't read minds. I wanted to do terrible things to her big broad ass. This morning I was, for the first time since I had arrived, feeling somewhat satiated. It had been quite a night (and early morning) with Kat. I might just possibly be able to think about things other than sex today.

By 1:30 I was back at Jared's house, having showered, dressed in an old pair of cargo shorts and an ancient Stanford T-shirt, and fixed myself an omelet and coffee for breakfast/lunch. I hadn't bothered with underwear, just in case Julia came home and I had another opportunity to tease her by exposing myself too her. I finished my meal and was savoring my first cup of coffee for the day as I looked at an article on an internet blog about some obscure new computer language (old habits die hard). The doorbell rang, and since I was the only one home, I walked through the house to answer it. When I opened the door I found Sandra waiting on the other side.

"Hi there. How are you? Won't you come in."

She looked quite different from work-day Sandra who I had been introduced to two nights ago. Instead of the stylish, snug skirt, and blouse or sweater and blazer combinations I had seen before she was wearing a loose fitting tank top and a pair of very short, very tight, white shorts. I also noticed she was wearing a bra this morning, with no effort to hide the bra straps below the straps to the tank top. I guess Jared hadn't issued any parting dress instructions for today. Her hair was pulled back in a short tight knot and she had none of the make-up I had seen her wear before. The high heels were gone, replaced by a pair of flip flops. The top of her head barely came to the level of my chin when she stepped into the house. I smiled as I looked her over. I thought she was adorably cute.

She smiled, looking just a little bashful, but not like she had the first time I met her. "Oh I'm sorry to bother you. I just need to pick up some things Andrew and I left here last night. Are the Reverend or his wife here?"

Had she and her husband gone home naked last night, I wondered? It was certainly possible.

"No neither Jared nor Julia are here, but come on into the kitchen and join me for a cup of coffee. I just brewed up a fresh pot." Chatting with her appealed a great deal more than reading up on a new programing language.

"Oh that sounds great." She smiled a 'light up the room smile'. "Last night was . . . well it was a short night . . .sleep wise."

"These things happen with the Rev," I said as I led her to kitchen. "I used to be his roommate."

She sat at one end of the long side of the old wooden table in their kitchen and I set a fresh cup of coffee for each of us on the table and took a seat at the table end adjacent to her.

"So," she asked, "how long were you Jared's roommate?"

"All four years we were at Stanford. Then he left to go to divinity school and I stayed on to get a Masters and work at a tech company."

We chatted for a while about my background and her and her husband's jobs. These were their first jobs out of college and they had been here only about six months. As we talked I couldn't help but notice how sexy her breasts looked beneath the tank top she was wearing. Her sparkling blue eyes were focused steadily on me as she spoke, looking at me over the top of her coffee cup. My interest in sex seemed to be rapidly recovering, especially as I thought about how much I had enjoyed screwing her two nights earlier. I could feel my dick becoming slowly aroused beneath the shorts I was wearing.

"Is it possible to get another cup?" she asked, as she set her now empty cup on the table.

"Of course. I could use another too." I said.

I started to rise, but she intervened, "No, you stay put." She put a hand on my shoulder as she rose from the table. Her eyes were briefly focused on lump in my shorts. "I'll get the coffee," she said. As she rose she leaned forward to pick up my coffee cup giving me a stunning view down the front of her tank top at her breasts bulging over the top of her bra cups.

So much for a day of not thinking about sex.

I turned and watched as she walked to the coffee pot. The shorts showcased her cute, little, round ass. They didn't quite cover it. I could see bottom of her tasty little cheeks peeking from beneath the shorts on each side. I thought about how delicious it had been plowing her from behind as she bent over one of the couches in the Play Room on her first visit and how I would love a repeat performance this afternoon. Yum.

As she stood before the coffee machine she bent forward stretching and then extending one leg and then the other to the side to stretch the muscles inside her thighs, muscles I was sure had had a serious workout of late. "Oh, I'm sore," she said.

"Hanging around with Jared will do that to a person," I said, more or less repeating my earlier thought about lost sleep.

She laughed. "Somehow, I suspect you didn't sleep all that well last night either." She reached over me to set my coffee down dragging one of her deliciously soft breasts over my collar bone as she did so. She had a freshly scrubbed smell that was delightful. I felt my dick flop over in my trousers, and I tried to discretely reach down to accommodate it by moving the material to make more room. Sandra was standing beside me and saw everything I was doing.

She set her coffee down and then excused herself to go to the ladies room, "Coffee does that to me," she said with a twinkle in her beautiful blue eyes. When she returned she seemed to have lost her bra. Her soft round tits were bouncing deliciously beneath her tank top. I watched them closely as she approached the table and took her seat.

"I just can't tell you how much your friend Jared has helped us," she said, moving the topic to her marriage.

"I hear he is quite good at his marriage counseling."

"He certainly is." She had a kind of dreamy look in her eyes. She was silent, thinking I assumed about the

therapy

she had so enjoyed over the last three days. "Although," she said with a smile, "I'm not sure I would call it marriage counseling. At least it certainly wasn't what I expected."

Therapy

from Jared's big hard cock, I thought and then chastised myself for being so crude and reminded myself about my participation in the therapy on the second night. I had to reach down and adjust my trousers again as my cock responded to the memory.

"Want to talk about it?" I asked.

"You wouldn't mind?" How could I mind if a beautiful young woman wanted to tell me the details of how Jared had seduced her and her husband.

"Not at all. I'm curious about Jared's new life. We went very different ways after college."

"Well," she said, "I have to give you some history first. Andrew and I were married just after high school. We had both been raised in strict religious families, in rural Western Pennsylvania. The essence of our sex education was that sex was evil—something the devil had somehow slipped into the Garden of Eden. God in his wisdom put a moral restriction on sex. It was to be used for the sole purpose of procreation, and was therefore strictly limited to married couples and then only to make babies to be raised by them as good, god fearing children."

She leaned forward as she spoke and putting her soft warm hand on my arm. I was silent for a moment, focused on the view of her breasts afforded me by the billowing opening of the low cut tank top.

"Erh . . . That would mean no sex at all until you were married

and

ready to start a family?"

Sandra smiled, enjoying the distraction her breasts were causing me.

"That was the general idea, but . . . we fudged a bit." She blushed as she spoke.

"So how did you find yourselves in Jared's marriage counseling program?" I asked. "His teachings are a long way from the rules the two of you were raised with." Her warm hand was still on my arm.

"No shit," she said with a laugh. Her tits jiggled deliciously as she laughed. Her language was deteriorating. Was she becoming aroused? The view afforded me by her forward lean included her swelling nipples. I needed to adjust my trousers again to accommodate my now nearly fully erect cock, but I didn't want to pull my arm away from the soft touch of her hand.

I smiled in response. I was enjoying watching her tits jiggle and her nipples swelling.

"Frankly," she said, turning serious. "we were both miserable. We were horny as hell. Both of us all the time, but we never told each other about it. That was another part of the rules we grew up with. You couldn't talk about sex. I'm sure Andrew was masturbating regularly. Probably several times a day. I know I was, and we both were suffering from incredible guilt every time. But we never shared our problems with each other."

"Usually that just makes the masturbation hotter, I'm told. I got past that so long ago I can't remember."

She laughed and her boobs bounced again. "You're right about that, but we were still unhappy and when we did break down and have sex the guilt was even worse. A brief moment of ecstasy sandwiched between long periods of grinding guilt is not a good life-style—trust me. But we were religious, and every Sunday our preacher told us we mustn't and if we did, we would go to hell. Our time in college was a long four years." She shook her head.

"Then we moved here for Andrew's job and we had to find a new church. Someone recommended the Reverend's church and we started going there. His sermons were really refreshing. No hellfire and brimstone. None of the long sermons about the importance of chastity and the limitations on non-procreational sex we had been raised on. The Reverend's sermons basically said, 'Love thy neighbor, and love thy self, and God will bless you'."

"Sounds like good advice," I responded. I doubt if most of congregation understands how literally he means the love thy neighbor part, I thought. "But what brought you to his marriage counseling? I'm sure that wouldn't have been approved by your childhood preacher."

She laughed at that thought. She looked around and then leaned forward conspiratorially and said softly, "Well, I really shouldn't tell you this, but I will." She looked around again. There was of course no one there but the two of us, but she apparently felt a need to be sure.

"One night Andrew was out working late, and he came home drunk. Coming home drunk was bad enough given the way we were raised, but then he told me about how he and some of the guys had gone to a strip joint, a titty bar he called it, and watched naked women dancing. He also told me about how his friends had bought him a lap dance."

"You know what a lap dance is?" she asked, interrupting her story.

"Yup," I said, trying to suppress a smile.

"And he wanted me to do the same thing for him. I was shocked. We had a huge fight. We didn't speak for two weeks. That's when I learned about the Reverend's marriage counseling. It was listed in a church bulletin as a service available to members of the congregation."

"How much did you know about it? I mean before your first session?"

She laughed and leaned back, her breasts pushing out firmly against the thin fabric of her tank top. The shape of her swollen areolas and nipples was obvious through the cloth. I wanted to drop the conversation and grab a breast start suckling.

"Oh almost nothing. It was a revelation, and not in the biblical sense. After I saw the church bulletin I went into the office one day over my lunch hour and talked to Julia. She was so nice. She asked what kind of problems we were having. I hemmed and hawed and didn't really respond. Finally she asked, 'Are you having romantic problems?' to which I responded. 'Yes, I guess you could say that.' Julia smiled at me. 'That's just the kind of thing the Reverend is good at helping people with,' she told me, but she didn't tell me a thing about

how

he helped people."

No shit, I thought. I couldn't resist smiling. "How did your first session go?"

She smiled. "It certainly wasn't what I expected. I was really worried. I thought it was going to be a group session and I was dreading having to tell everyone about Andrew's transgressions, and of course I wasn't going to tell anyone about our sex life, such as it was."

I was silent waiting for her to continue.

"When we arrived we learned it wasn't a group session, which was good, but we quickly realized our sex life was exactly what the Reverend thought we should talk about—my worst fears."

"How did he bring it up?"

"You mean our sex life?"

"Well first he asked us to describe our problems. We babbled along a bit and really didn't say anything. Then he said, 'I have to tell you that most people who come in to see me describing problems like you have—really, deep down, they have serious problems with their sex life.' I was shocked. How could he know that about us? I knew he was right. But how could he know. Was there a tattoo on my forehead that said, 'I want more orgasms'?"

"What about Andrew?"

"Oh he just sat there in silence. No help at all. He's like that with people he doesn't know well. But really that's not fair, she said digressing. When you know him he's kind and generous and loving." She paused for a moment and then looked around conspiratorially as she had earlier and then whispered "And he has a really great dick." She giggled after letting me in on her family secret.

"So, what happened next? I mean with the Rev?" I asked, prompting her to continue.

She paused before answering, considering whether she really wanted to tell me about this. After a long silence she said, "The Reverend leaned forward and put his hand on my knee. It was warm and soft."

Sandra had a lost dreamy look in her eyes when she described Jared's approach. I couldn't believe it. How did Jared do it with women? I couldn't understand what he did when we were in college and I still couldn't understand it.

She leaned forward again, her eyes wide, "It was just electric when he put his hand on my leg. Then he started talking about what a healthy sex life a young couple should have. It was amazing. He talked about things we had never even thought of and all the time he was massaging my thigh. I was getting so horny listening to him."

"Was he graphic?"

"Very. He used words like cock, prick, fuck stick, pussy, cunt, fuck hole, clit, fucking, cock sucking, cunt licking, even butt fucking. I was shocked. Andrew and I had heard those words before. We knew what they meant. After all we did go to public schools. But we never used them. The Reverend said we needed to talk about sex, and we needed to use this language when we did. See the Reverend thinks that good sex isn't just the physical part. The best part is in your head and you create that by what you say and what you show each other. Not just nudity, but, you know sexy clothes and such. He was basically telling us everything we had been taught growing up was completely wrong, even evil in his view. It was shocking, but what he was doing with his hand was so . . . Oh I can't really describe it, but I wasn't bothered by his message or his graphic language."

"And Andrew?"

"I confess I was ignoring him at first. But then when the Reverend put his hand under my dress and begin massaging the inside of my bare thigh—you know up high almost to my pussy. Oh god, that felt so good, but the guilt returned and I looked up at Andrew. What was I doing? What was he doing?"

"What was he doing?" I asked.

She laughed, and then leaned forward and whispered. "He was massaging his boner through his pants. He was every bit as turned on as I was."

"Did that help with the guilt?"

She laughed. "When I saw he was masturbating, I spread my legs apart to make it easier for the Reverend. It also gave Andrew a better view of what the Reverend was doing. Andrew licked his lips and nodded his head in approval. It was obvious he was enjoying watching what the Rev was doing. And if Andrew was enjoying it, I sure couldn't see any reason why I shouldn't enjoy it."

She was leaning forward so that her breasts were resting on the table and as she continued with her story she slowly dragged her breasts back and forth across the edge of the table, rubbing her nipples on the edge.

"So let me understand. You'd been with Jared for maybe half an hour and he brought the two of you to a point where he had his hand up your skirt and Andrew was masturbating as he watched?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Did you go further?"

"Oh fuck yes," she said with a laugh. "He kept sliding his hand farther up my skirt until his fingers reached . . ."

She was silent.

"Your pussy?" I asked.

"Yes. . . . It was so fucking hot. I was sitting there with my legs spread and my dress hiked up to my waist while the Reverend was massaging my pussy, and my husband was masturbating while he watched."

"Through your panties?"

"At first. But he pretty quickly pushed them aside and slid two fingers into my . . . my cunt. I was so fucking excited." Her language had clearly deteriorated. "The Reverend has magic fingers. He slid his fingers in and out of me until they were really covered with my juices. Then he reached up and begin to play with my clit. After a while he pulled his fingers out and sucked off my juices and told me how sweet I tasted. Then he asked if I could take my underwear off because it was kind of in the way."

"Was that scary," I asked.

"Oh, not at all," she said. "I was so fucking horny, I just lifted my hips up and stripped them off and lay back and begin stroking my pussy as I stared at my husband. That was when the Reverend asked me to show him my tits. He said, 'Now Sandra show us your tits'."