This Can't be Normal. Can it?

I do miss my friends but, you know, life happens. Bryn was the one I missed the most. I talk to her as though she were still my best friend. We never miss our Thursday night phone sesh. Brynlee was another young lady not ashamed of herself. She wasn't too out of control but she didn't blush when we talked sex like me and she never hesitated to say the inappropriate. One of my fondest memories was it was her that bought me the very first lingerie I ever owned. Although I have never worn front of someone that is, I wore it now standing in the mirror admiring the red lace that barely masked my breast. The garter and stocking are what I admire most. They made me feel sexy but at the same time, also sad. Sad because I can't enjoy it with my husband. I sat down to the laptop and went incognito. The lumberjack had paid twenty five dollars for my dirty panties. I wondered what he would pay for a whole lingerie set. Really, Liz? 'You're not so hard up for money that you would pimp out your intimates to a stranger, are you?', I thought to myself. I weighed out the pros and cons of this insanity. The cons included the risk of getting caught and the church turning their backs on me or the Deacon feeling so ashamed and disappointed he divorced me. The pros were that it is exciting and not only does the lumberjack get his rocks off but so do I. I also make a little pocket change in the process. It has been five months since I had any income. I had taught right up till the day I gave birth to my sweet, beautiful Elijah.

That was the day that I questioned my faith. The day I discovered that I was harboring ill feelings for the Deacon. The day I for the first time in my life, I said I hated God. That was five months ago today and unlike the first four months that I felt sorry for myself and visited the cemetery sobbing, I had a glass or two of wine in this red lingerie. Of course I will never get the image of sweet Elijah's face out of my mind. I put it aside as I pulled the lace to the side and freed my pelvis. I watched the very muscular man on the screen lower his head down between the platinum blonde bimbo's legs and stick his tongue out to meet her very swollen clitoris. Her moans were as fake as her hair color but I never really let the acting be the main focus in my mind. It used to be the Deacon doing these things to my body but lately I've found someone else taking the Deacon's place. He was blonde and loud and made my hand shake as I pictured his face smiling and whispering dirty things in my ear. Preston. Why has he invade my thoughts lately and what did this mean? I have to plan my masturbation like I am a teenage boy fearing his mother will burst into his bedroom without knocking. I like to relax in a tub full of bubbles while all tension is washed away. Here I sat in this deep claw-foot tub wishing I could call for the Deacon to join me. The subtle hints I dropped to him were either not received or just overlooked. "I am going to soak in a nice, hot, bubble bath. My body is so stiff lately, and I need the muscles worked out. I hope the hard tub doesn't hurt my butt bone. Maybe I need something to sit on to relieve the pressure. Maybe I need to have someone else's hands work out the tightness of my body", I would exclaim. "Ok, Elizabeth, have a nice bath." the Deacon would reply as he walked into the other room, oblivious to his wife's hints. Once again I sat, naked, fully aroused, less my husband. Without my laptop, I had to make due with my imagination. I closed my eyes. Picturing myself in the tub, I watched like a peeping Tom through the thin slats on the closet door . In he walks, slowly up to the tub stopping briefly to enjoy the vision of me with my eyes closed and head back.  Under the water my own hand was taking me to the place I needed to go.

"That's right." I hear someone whisper. "Hello, Liz." Preston's husky voice greeted me. He puts his hand over top of mine and guided it to my breast then all over my stomach, legs, thighs and finally, bullseye. I hear his voice in my ear guiding me, talking me towards orgasm. "Mmm, Liz, just like that. I wondered if you still had your sexual appetite", he exclaimed. "Being a lady of the cloth aren't these things forbidden? No? Ok, then make me cum, Liz, then you can cum. Show me how much I turn you on." My eyes shot open and I looked around as if it were real and not fantasy. It wasn't the Deacon's voice but rather Preston's. I smile and close my eyes again. There I was secretly doing the same impure things I would shame my husband for. Not to mention imagining another man watching as I pleasured myself. Who am I? Where did this woman come from? I had finally lost it." I couldn't take it. I thrashed my head from side to side as I pictured Preston's thick phallus sliding slowly in me. His mouth gently pecking out kisses my neck. At once I felt the gush of what could only be described as, one of the most amazing orgasms ever.  I was out of breath when the Deacon knocked on the door. "Elizabeth? Honey, are you ok? Did you fall?" I breathlessly replied, "I'm ok, dear. Just slipped getting out."  My heart was racing as I wrapped a towel around me. Sitting there on the vanity chair, I looked at myself. I let the towel slip to the hardwood and looked at my erect nipples in the mirror. I grinned at the thought of Preston's mouth covering them. Wow, Elizabeth, can you say scandalous? How will you keep this under wraps?

Oh, darling, LIZ can do anything she sets her mind to.


Own My Gussets

Own My Gussets
What Tickles Your Fancy