This is Story # 37 of my series about my post-marital sexual journey. Read the first story (Babysitter Lauren) or my profile, for any background needed. You may see references to prior stories/people, but for the most part each story stands on its own.
Not everyone likes me or my stories. That's OK.
I enjoy all comments.
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Libby Part 2
Pastor Libby and her husband Jim had moved away years before to run a newly opened Methodist parish a few states over. Soon after my dalliance with Jewel, I was at a local mall late one afternoon, getting a cell phone screen repaired, and killing time wandering through the various shops and stores that no one buys stuff at anymore.
From behind, I saw a smallish woman pushing a baby stroller. Cute, I thought, and paid no further attention.
Twenty or so minutes later, I bumped into this same woman in a store as we were both leaving it, and BOOM, it hit me: Pastor Libby.
"Libby" I said loudly, and she gave me a big warm hug. "How are you? Let's sit down and talk if you can."
She had the cutest baby, almost four months old, she said. I asked about Jim, and the story was this:
Their marriage struggled. Libby was at constant conflict between the good Pastor and the bad girl slut. The problem was, she couldn't be the bad girl slut with Jim. He saw how she was with me, and he wanted that -- the horniness, the dirty talk, the cum slut. But she couldn't turn that on with him in the bedroom.
So, he left her, about a year prior, just as she found out she was pregnant. She didn't tell him and still hasn't, since he met a girl and was out of the country doing missionary work.
As we talked, I could see her shifting uncomfortably in her seat several times.
I asked, "Is everything ok?"
"Yes," she answered, and went on to explain that her baby wasn't really into breastfeeding, and she had already started weaning him off with formula, but she was producing a lot of milk and had to pump a lot to relieve the pressure.
According to her mother, generous milk production kind of ran in the family.
"I either need to feed him or pump soon. My tits are gonna explode!"
Now, I don't know whether I made some kind of noise, or I started drooling, or what, but Libby could tell that I was beside myself, and picked right up on where my mind was at.
With a sly smile, she asked me "Are you hungry?"
"Starving," I answered.
Libby had moved back to town temporarily, taking a leave of absence from her parish ministry to raise the baby for a few months. She was living with her parents since Jim left, so she didn't have any privacy anymore.
She offered, "If you're free tonight, I could come over for dinner. I'd love to feed you."