This is my confession.
I was raised by deeply religious parents, and I accepted - I still accept - their values. Of course part of those values are beliefs regarding sexual purity. I was raised to believe - still believe - that sex is reserved for a man and a woman who are married, and that the purpose of sex is procreation.
As is sometimes the case, my body matured sexually when I was sixteen. I went from a skinny, flat chested child to a young woman with large breasts, wide hips and a voluptuous figure. My mother took me aside and warned me that my body was a temptation to men and that I should do everything that I could to hide it. I dressed accordingly (and still do), with clothing that hid my figure. I am told that I have a pretty face, but I wear no makeup. My red hair was, and is, cut modestly short.
After I finished high school, my parents arranged an introduction with the son of another couple active in the church. John and I were expected to marry. He was (and is) a godly man. He is four years my senior, and when we met he was already a successful electrician. After courting for four months, he asked me to marry him and I of course accepted.
We had sex for the first time on our wedding night. I did not expect to enjoy it - I was told that it was sinful for a woman to enjoy it - and I did not. John inserted his penis inside me, thrust a few times, and ejaculated inside me.
While I did not enjoy it, I had expected it to be painful. It was not as painful as I thought it would be. I did not realize then - I know now - that one reason for that was that John's penis is ... quite small. About three inches erect.
In the next five years we had a fine marriage. John was (and is) a good provider. We bought a large house in the hopes of having a large family. But despite regular intercourse, I did not become pregnant.
Eventually John decided that we should supplement our income by finding a boarder for one of our spare bedrooms.
We interviewed several people, but settled on a young college boy named Peter. Before he moved in, I told him our house rules: no alcohol, no drugs, and no women.
At first everything went well. Peter was respectful, helpful around the house, and abided by our rules. I did notice that he was a handsome young man, and worried that he might bring a girl to his room. But he did not ... at least initially.
One day, though, I came home early from a shopping trip. I heard giggling coming from his room - clearly a female's voice. The door was closed; I went close to listen. They were clearly fornicating - I could hear both of them moaning, and the girl was saying the filthiest things imaginable that I will not repeat.
I was, of course, appalled at his violation of my rules, and more importantly of God's rules. Yet I was shamed by a feeling in my private parts. I felt a tingle, then a growing excitement, and a wetness. I wanted to touch myself, but knew that it would be very sinful to do so. I heard the girl cry out in pleasure. She took the Lord's name in vain, screaming "Oh God, I'm cumming." I blushed and fled to another part of the house.
The next morning I confronted Peter in his room. I reminded him of the rules of our home, and that he violated those rules. He laughed. I told him that I was quite serious. He responded, "oh, I am sure that you are. But then why were you listening at the door?"
I blushed deeply and denied it. He laughed again, stating "I heard you. I know you were listening. Did it turn you on?"
I blushed again, and denied it. He came closer. "Just what do you look like under those dowdy clothes, I wonder?" I reminded him that I was a married, godly woman.
Ha laughed again, "Oh, I know your type. I can sense it. You have a yearning in your pussy that your husband doesn't satisfy."
