I tried to get away from my small conservative hometown. In fact, I did, for 10 wonderful years. I left for college at 18 and was never going back. I got my bachelor's degree in accounting, found a job at an accounting firm outside Denver, and after a few years I sank my life savings into a small home. Within a year of buying my house, the housing market tanked and I got laid off. I had no savings, I couldn't sell my house and after looking unsuccessfully for a new job for months, I very reluctantly moved back in with my parents in Tennessee until I could get back on my feet.
Living with my parents was contingent on meeting some conditions. Number one was church attendance. I'm not religious and stopped attending church as soon as I moved out. But in my hometown in Tennessee, church attendance is practically required. Whenever you meet someone new, one of the first questions they ask is "Which church do you attend?" If I were to respond "I don't attend church", I would get a look as though I had horns growing out of my head. Church membership was a must to maintain good social standing in our community and my parents were active members in their church. It would have embarrassed them if I didn't attend. And since I was going to try setting up my own accounting business, it would have been impossible to find clients if I wasn't an active church goer. So I went.
Which is how I met Sheila Ward. She leads the Bible study on Thursday nights at my parents' congregation. And she is the pastor's wife.
The first thing I noticed about Sheila were her green eyes. Framed by long dark lashes, her eyes were striking set against her pale skin and framed by her dark brown hair. I was mesmerized by her beauty and when she invited me to her Bible study class, I couldn't help but accept, despite my lack of interest in the Bible. I guessed she was about my age, but her husband seemed at least 10 years older than her. And most everyone else at the church was closer to my parents' age. Sheila was probably happy to see another young woman attending services.
She had a quiet presence and unlike the fire and brimstone preaching style of her husband Mike, she led the women's Bible study with a subtle defiance. While her husband's sermons preached obedience and traditional gender roles, she highlighted strong female characters in the Bible. She seemed to have an internal struggle between her church's teachings and her own beliefs about women's roles in society. And her Bible study group attracted other women like me who held more modern views, but who attended the church out of a sense of obligation.
I liked Sheila immediately. I often lingered after Bible study and helped her put away Bibles and chairs and lock up the church. We chatted about random things such as local events and favorite books. After a couple of months, she invited me out for coffee after Bible study and I happily agreed.
We found a diner that was open late and began talking about our lives, comparing her married life with my single life. We discovered we both found the conservative climate of our town stifling. We talked about things I dared never discuss with other women I knew in town. When we were alone, she was open and candid in a way no one else I knew. I enjoyed being able to speak openly about things I couldn't talk to anyone else about.
We began going out after Bible study regularly, each time delving into more personal topics. We talked about past lovers and it was clear I had had more than she had. But despite marrying a conservative preacher, she was no virgin when they married. She sounded unhappy with their sex life, but didn't say why.
Then late one night, after a few drinks, Sheila admitted that her husband liked to be dominant in bed. She blushed as she talked. She said he liked to do things that made her uncomfortable. I tried to hide my intense interest. Because the truth was, I enjoyed being dominated, but most men I'd dated had tended to be gentle egalitarian lovers and I found myself generally dissatisfied with sex. Despite my independent streak, I preferred to be submissive in bed.
I asked Sheila for details about what he liked to do. She demurred at first, embarrassed to speak about such personal things. So I decided to open up to her first.
"I had a boyfriend right after college who used to tie me up," I admitted. "It was his idea at first, but I found I really liked it. I bought a whip and had him use it on me. It was a huge turn on."
"But most guys I've been with since then haven't liked the idea," I continued. "One guy I dated said it felt like it was disrespectful to me. I didn't even bring it up with the last few guys I dated."
"But I still feel like something is missing. All my fantasies involve being sexually dominated. Regular sex just doesn't do it for me," I confided.
Sheila was looking at me wide eyed. "You would like Mike then! He never wants to be with me unless he can tie me up or punish me. I wish he would be gentle with me more. Sometimes after he uses the belt on me, he'll cover me in gentle kisses, and lick me in the places he hit me to soothe the pain. But he can't get it up unless he's dominating me. I didn't realize anyone actually enjoyed that."
The thought of him tying her up and whipping her aroused me. I imagined her naked body, bent over the bed as he struck her. I could feel a tingling in my pussy and as I looked at her across the table, I knew I wanted her. But for all the private details we had revealed about ourselves, I had never confided in her that I had been with women. I didn't know her feelings on bisexuality and I didn't want to scare off my one good friend in this town.
I began fantasizing about Sheila regularly. During Bible study, I would watch her mouth as she talked, thinking about how her lips would taste, how her tongue would feel on my nipples. I stole discreet glances at her breasts, imagining how they would feel in my hands. I guessed she was a D cup, close in size to me, but she was usually modestly covered, with just a hint of cleavage, so it was hard to be sure.
A few weeks after she confided her husband's dominant tendencies, we were out drinking after Bible study again. She seemed distracted that night and she drank a little more than usual. She was tipsy and when I asked if anything was wrong, she blurted out "Oh, Kristen, I don't know if I can take it anymore! I don't want a divorce, but I'm so unhappy. Mike doesn't get me off at all, even though we have sex nearly every day. When I try to talk to him, he tells me I should pray on it and that a righteous wife would be satisfied."
She started to cry. I came around the other side of the booth and sat next to her, putting my arm around her and pulled her head to my shoulder. I let her cry. After a minute, she sat up and started to apologize for her outburst. I stopped her. "It's OK. It's frustrating. I understand, " I assured her.
