The Deacons Wife 1

Things were very different in the late sixties in our little section of Nebraska when I married. At least in my area of Nebraska where the bible still ruled over everything; women were expected to be a housewife and the husband was the lord of his castle for the bible says:

Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife even as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit in everything to their husbands.

That was the way it was with my parents and my older siblings. I had been working in a department store when I met my future husband. He was a lawyer and a deacon in our little church which is where we met. He knew every word of the bible and quoted it often.

We dated for six months before we married, and it was clear long before he proposed that his wife would never work outside the home. My job would be to take care of him and our future family. I did not expect anything different. It was the way I was raised.

Except for some groping when making out, we did not have sex before our wedding night. I came to our wedding bed a virgin and awoke the next morning feeling the same as I did every morning. It seemed to me that sex was overrated.

We were not able to go on a proper honeymoon, as my husband called it because of his commitments with his law practice. We spent the first few months of our marriage in our small town. I got up before him, made breakfast, packed his lunch, cleaned the house and made him dinner. Most nights he would work on a legal brief, and I would read a book. We had sex several times a week in the beginning using the missionary position. I did not realize there was any other positions except that, and the way animals had sex.

We went on our honeymoon several months later to some island in the Caribbean. My husband was happy because he had just won some big case and we could go first class all the way. I was happy because for the first time in my life, not only was I going to fly, but I was going to see the ocean. My husband had flown several times in the military and while he was going to law school. He called me a nervous nelly on the two-hour ride to the airport and we had to change planes in Chicago. There were so many people of color in Chicago. There was only one black family in our whole town. And there were so many other races of people I had never seen before. The island was more of the same, it was almost like white was not the majority and many of the people who were white didn't speak English.

The other thing that made me happy about this trip was my husband's suggestion that it was time we started a family. I had been looking forward to having children forever and was disappointed when he told me he wanted to wait on our wedding night.

The ocean blew me away, I could see forever. Our room looked out over the beach, and I was so content, just standing on our balcony and watching the waves. My husband teased me and suggested that instead of just looking at it, we should go swimming. I put on my only bathing suit, a one-piece I had for years. The look of disappointment on my husband's face cannot be described.

He said, "Honey, we are thousands of miles away from anyone we know. This is an opportunity to relax. Let's go down to the store in the hotel and buy you a new suit, something like the other woman on the beach are wearing."

I put my street clothes back on and we headed down to the lobby not knowing what my husband had in mind. Was he going to suggest a two piece? We entered the store, and I started scanning the racks of bathing suits. They did not carry any one-piece suits, so I started going through what they had. None of their suits would cover much of my body. My bra and panties covered more than any suit in the store. My husband, who had disappeared when we entered the store came up to me with a handful of string bikinis, he wanted me to try on. I tried to disagree, but he quoted some bible verse that a wife's body belongs to the husband and that I was disrespecting him and God, by not trying on the suits.

Although the bikini had been around for a while by the mid-60s, they had not made it to Nebraska and the ones my husband had handed me were more scandalous than those seen on Hollywood stars. But once he started quoting the bible, I knew it was pointless to argue. I felt naked when I donned the first suit. My husband wanted me to step out of the dressing room to show him, but I was too embarrassed. He insisted so I just opened the curtain so he could look in. Most of my breasts were visible and much of my butt. I also had pubic hair sticking out of the bottoms.

I expected him to order me back into the room, but he insisted that the suit was perfect, and I should shave my private area before we went to the beach. We repeated the same process for two other suits. We would look for other suits over the ten days we were going to be here. I also looked for a cover up to wear while traveling between our room and the beach. My husband took the one I had picked out and handed me his choice, something that was almost transparent and barely covered my ass.

As I was changing in our room, my husband insisted that I shave my entire private area. He inspected my privates after we were done. After which, he pulled me over his knee and spanked me for being disobedient in the store. Several sharp smacks were administered to each of my cheeks which left me in shock. The material of the bikini did little to shield my flesh from his blows. Most of all, I was in shock that my husband had actually punished me in that fashion. It was certainly in his rights, but I was not expecting it, especially on our honeymoon.

We headed down to the beach while I tried to stay behind my husband and hide my nakedness and red butt. I felt little more comfortable once we settled into our beach chairs. I noticed that most of the women were in similar suits, so I did not feel out of place. I also noticed that some of the women were topless, something my husband definitely noticed. Feeling a little more comfortable, I finally removed my coverup.

My husband offered me encouraging words and began to apply sunscreen on my body. It felt weird being almost naked in front of so many people and my husband's hands rubbing my almost naked body in front of those people seemed pornographic. Occasionally his hands would wonder onto my ass or touch my breasts.

I was laying on my back, almost asleep, when a waiter came by to take our order. Standing over me was this incredibly well-built black man. I felt his eyes running over my nearly naked body as my husband ordered us two alcoholic beverages. As he turned to leave, I realized that when my husband had applied sunscreen, he had shifted the cups of my bra so that my top barely covered my nipples, and the bottom of the suit was barely covering my pubic mound. My nipples were aching hard, and I cannot describe what was going on in my vagina.

I rarely drank alcohol and between the sun and the drinks, I felt myself falling asleep. My husband encouraged me to roll over and I remember him rubbing fresh sunscreen on my back. I was still on my back when the waiter returned, and I asked my husband if I could have a coffee to help wake me up. I sat up when the waiter came back with my coffee and the top of my suit fell off revealing my breasts. I was flabbergasted. The waiter seemed nonchalant out my nakedness and left, but the tingling in my vagina had returned. My husband apologized saying that he had undone my top when applying the sunscreen and thought I knew that. Besides he said, many of the women on the beach were topless. He seemed happy about my nakedness. As I drank my coffee, I realized there was something amiss with my bottoms. While applying sunscreen, my husband had pushed the bulk of my swimsuit between my butt cheeks exposing most of my ass, a view our waiter must have enjoyed when he took our order.

My husband announced it was time to get ready for dinner and we headed back to our room. He kept me in front of him as we walked, and I felt like I was in a parade, and everyone was looking at me. When we got to the room, he positioned me in front of the bed.

He said, "I want to commend you for being obedient after our little upset this morning and I want to reward you."

My husband pushed the bottom of my suit to the floor and gently pushed me onto the bed. I spread my legs expecting him to enter me but instead he knelt at the floor with his face between my legs. I was almost expecting him to start praying.

"I like your vagina like this, so nice and smooth. I am ordering you to keep it like this, even when we return to Nebraska."

With that, he put his lips onto my privates and began to kiss me there. I tried to push him away, but he ordered me to stop and told me to put my hands behind my head. His kisses turned to licks and when he spread my vagina, the tingling came back in force. It seemed like my bottom had a mind of its own as it wanted to push against my husband's face. I was having trouble keeping my hands behind my head as he had ordered. First one hand went behind his head, guiding him to that most sensitive spot. My other hand soon found my breasts and I began to pinch my nipples. It was like I had no control over my body. Soon a rumbling began deep inside of me, and I felt my hips bucking against his tongue as the rumbling completely consumed me.

He stopped licking and let the last of my convulsions subside. He came up beside me and gave me the most passionate kiss of our relationship, his tongue exploring my mouth. I could taste myself on him. I expected to find it unpleasant but instead, the opposite was true, and I licked the rest of my juices off his face. I realized that maybe sex was not overrated after all.

He suggested that I get in the shower first. My nipples and pussy were still very sensitive when I started the shower. Dragging the dry washcloth across my nipples sent a shock into my pussy. I soon found one hand pinching my nipples again and my other fingers rubbing that sensitive area of my vagina. I came again as I learned that was called. Stopping was hard but I heard my husband asking if I was done so I stepped out and dried off.

When I came out to the bedroom, I found that my husband had bought me a new dress. He said my boring Nebraska clothes were not appropriate here for such a beautiful woman in such a beautiful place. Off he went into the shower. At first glance, the dress did look very pretty. I held against me and realized it was very short and that it was designed for bare shoulders. None of my bras would work with the dress. Remembering the spanking I had received earlier, I decided to put it on without a bra and he would realize his mistake once he saw me in it.

The dress was worse than I thought. It was several inches above my knee and the material was so sheer I am sure people could see through it. I had not brought any slips with me that would fit under the dress. The top was worse. Not only was it off my shoulders but it exposed a lot of cleavage, slightly less than the bikini I wore earlier. That material was also thin enough that my nipples were clearly visible even when they weren't hard. If I moved the wrong way, the top opened up and someone would have a clear view of my breasts.

The shower shutoff and I stood there waiting for my husband to come out of the shower and realize his mistake, instead his face lit up and said, "absolutely perfect."

We ate dinner that night in the hotel restaurant. I felt like everyone was looking at me as we crossed the lobby and waited to be seated. The maître d' held my chair, and I am sure he had a clear view of my breasts as I sat down.

Dinner was excellent and my husband had ordered a bottle of wine. My second glass of wine gave me some courage to ask my husband about his clothing choices for me.

"Husband," I said, "why do you want me to wear such revealing clothes as this dress and the swimsuits you bought me today? I feel like every man is staring at me and for the first time, a man other than you or my doctor has seen my naked breasts."

"You are my prized possession my dear. It is only right that I show you off and it is a big compliment to me when men stare at you. I know the waiter saw your breasts as you were being seated. The look of lust in his eyes as he admired your breasts gave me great satisfaction. You should be honored that I am so proud of your beauty."

I went to say something else, but he raised his hand and said he was done with this conversation and would hear no more.

After dinner we headed into the ballroom as my husband wanted another drink. I felt that I had already had enough alcohol, but my husband insisted I have one more. My husband wanted to dance and asked me to finish my drink before he led me out to the dance floor. It was a slow song and it felt good when he put his arms around me. I laid my head on his shoulder.

He was whispering in my ear how beautiful I was when his hand slipped down to my ass. I wanted to ask him to stop touching me there in front of all these people but the tingling in my vagina returned. I noticed that other men were dancing with their partners in a similar fashion. There was also a black man dancing with a white woman. He was playing with his partner's breast as they danced. My husband must have noticed also because his hand found my breast and my hard nipples. I felt his manhood begin to harden.

He said, "We should head back to our room, or I will fuck you right here and you are not ready for that yet."

I wondered by what he meant when he added yet to that sentence.

With his hand still on my ass, he guided me off the dance floor and through the lobby. He told me to stand still once we got back in our room. He removed my dress, put it on a hanger and then slid my panties down. Circling around me, he caressed my breasts and ass. His hand cupped my vagina and gave it a squeeze.

He remarked, "you are truly remarkable creature, and it has taken me too long to realize that. Your breasts are absolutely perfect, not too big that they would end up sagging down. You still have that bubble butt of a much younger woman. Most of all, I love the way your cunt tastes."

I was shocked that he would use such crass language with me. I don't think I ever heard that word spoken before and certainly not referring to one of my body parts. We both had too much to drink but that did not excuse his language.

He continued, "unfortunately, I need to discipline you again. You may occasionally question me, but to continue after I had answered is completely unacceptable."

With that, he sat down on the bed and pulled me across his knee. He administered several sharp smacks, and my bum was bare. Instead of the pain I had felt earlier, I began to feel that tingling again in my vagina. My husband's free hand found one of my breasts and he began to pull on my nipple, to the point that it hurt. He administered several more smacks. Instead of pulling away, I felt my bottom pushing up to meet his hand. That hand stopped spanking me and drifted down to my nether region. Two of his fingers began to caress my pussy. His thumb began to rest on my anus. My first thought was to push it away, but I did not know how he would react. Instead, I found myself spreading my legs to give him better access to my pussy.

A loud moan escaped me when his fingers entered my pussy, and I realized I was losing control over my body for a second time since we arrived. He would push those fingers deep into me and then dragged their wetness across my anus. Occasionally, he would surprise me by administering more slaps across my bum. All the while, he continued his assault on my breasts, I was aching for the release that his tongue had given me earlier. His thumb soon found its way into my pussy, and he began to work it in and out like a miniature penis. I felt my orgasm building. I did not want his thumb; I wanted his penis inside me. For the first time in our relationship, I was aching for it.

"Please," I begged.

"Please what," he said. "Do you want me to fuck your cunt with my cock."

I tried to say yes but it sounded more like a moan.

He pulled his thumb from my pussy and gave my bum another sharp smack, the hardest of the evening.

"Say it exactly like I said it."

"Yes, I want you to fuck my cunt with your cock, I want to feel you inside me."

He lifted me up, placed me face down on the bed and then pulled me up onto my knees. He was standing on the floor right behind me and pulled me towards him until I felt his penis pushing up against my pussy. I felt him rub himself against me.

"God" he said, "I can't believe I own this,"

And then he shoved his cock all the way into me. A groan began deep in my belly as I felt myself orgasm on my husband for the first time.

"Did you just come on my cock my little pet?"

Another half moan, half yes, escaped me. He began pounding himself into me. Never had we made love in this position and never had he continued to thrust into me with such force. Another orgasm swept over me.

"You really like getting fucked like this don't you?"

I didn't know how to answer. Getting fucked is what bad girls did. Only sluts would like to get fucked but as I came again, I knew I liked it and didn't care what you called it.

He slapped me twice on my ass again and ordered me to say it. I knew what he wanted.

After several more smacks, I said, "yes I like when you fuck me like this." I came again as I said it and felt him come inside me almost at the same time. He collapsed on top of me.

After laying there for a few minutes; he said, "You have one more lesson to learn today. You need to learn how to clean me after we fuck."

"I will get a washcloth husband."

As I stood up, he pulled me to him and pushed me onto my knees.

"No, my wife, you will learn to clean me with your mouth," and he pushed my face to his penis.

The original thought that he wanted me to put my mouth on his penis revolted me. That was something whores did for money. Was I to be his whore? I also saw gobs of his semen on his penis. But the smell was enticing. As I smelt and tasted myself on his face after he licked my vagina, that was all I could smell as he pushed my face closer to his penis. I wanted to taste myself again and began to lick his penis.

My juices covered his whole groin area and that was all I could smell. I continued to lick his entire penis and his testicles and the rest of his flesh in that area. At some point, I took the head of his penis into my mouth and began to suck more of my juices off him. I could also taste more of his sperm. Seeking more of my juices, I sucked more and more of his penis into my mouth and then I realized he was hard again. I went to pull away after he was hard, but he stood up and held my head onto his penis.

He said, "I thought you would be a good cocksucker, but I thought it would take more effort on my part. You play the pure and holy but you're just a natural cock sucking whore, now let me fuck that cunt face of yours."

His words hurt me. I was only doing what he asked. My struggle to comprehend the harsh words he used, did not compare to my struggles as he shoved his penis into my mouth like it was my vagina. Sometimes I was barely able to restrain myself from vomiting on him. Other times I struggled to breath because his penis was in my throat. In between that, he was yanking on my hair telling me to suck harder. His harsh words continued, I was a slut and a whore. Then he screamed that I should swallow his come.

He grabbed my hair again and pulled my mouth off his penis and commanded me to hold my mouth open. He was jerking his penis and then I felt his semen hit my tongue. Not yet bitch he shouted. I was still on my knees with my mouth full of his semen. There was more semen in his penis that he began to rub on my face. My husband took out his camera and took a picture of me like that. The camera was a polaroid kind, and he ordered me to sit there while the picture developed. Once he was satisfied with the shot, I was allowed to swallow his semen. He showed me the picture. My face was a mess with my makeup smeared all over, my mouth full of semen and other semen smeared all over. My breasts were visible, and they were coved with my saliva.