Backsliding Ch. 04

"Church can wait. Let's just enjoy the sunset," was all she said. I was slightly shocked, but today was full of shocking moments, so I didn't say anything. I just sat on the top of the table and enjoyed the sunset. By the time dusk arrived, I knew we'd never make it home in time for her to get to church on time and I mentioned that to her.

"I'm not going to church tonight. It won't hurt me to miss once in a while anyway. Besides, this vibrating ride has me all worked up. I can't go to church dripping wet, now can I?"

"No you can't. I think we need to get home and see if we can't do something about that," I said. I probably broke several speeding laws trying to get Sarah back home that evening. I had a pretty good idea about what was coming later that night.

When we arrived home, although I wanted to, I didn't carry her off to the bedroom and fuck her brains out. She acted as if skipping church was the most common thing in the world to her and went about a normal routine of fixing us some dinner. I still had a raging hard on, but I was beginning to wonder if my wife was bi-polar. One minute she was making overtones as a sexy vixen, the next she was acting like Mary Poppins. I went into the den and started watching a re-run of the old Catwoman movie with Halle Berry. Sarah came in a few minutes later with a TV tray and a couple of sandwiches. She sat down beside me and quietly ate her dinner and watched the movie. The transformation scene came on and I could tell Sarah was getting interested. It was the scene where Halle Berry changes herself from the quiet, shy, girl next door into the sexy leather-clad villainess. In this scene she cuts her hair short, puts on thick and sexy makeup and walks out sporting the hottest leather cat suit known to man. No red blooded male in America could resist getting a hard on during that scene and I was no different. Sarah noticed almost immediately and chuckled.

"You like that, don't you? That really turns you on?" She asked.

"Maybe," was all I said.

"Why?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. It's just hot, that's all. She's this librarian type and all of a sudden she's this hot badass in leather and a whip about to go kick some ass. That's just hot!"

She didn't reply to that. She just sat quietly and finished the movie. When it was done, she quietly got up and walked to the bathroom. I heard the shower going in a few minutes. Not long thereafter, I heard her blow dryer, so I knew she was getting ready for bed. Things had cooled down since the bike ride, but I was still hopeful that she had something nice planned for me and that I hadn't blown it with my Halle Berry comments.

I heard Sarah walk into the den before I saw her. I felt something ice cold touch the back of my neck and I jumped. I turned around quickly to protest, but what I saw stopped me dead in my tracks. Standing behind me was Sarah wearing a sheer camisole, a satin and lace thong, and a pair of stiletto heels. Her long red hair was teased out and hung down sexily, brushing past her breasts which were straining against her negligee. In her hand, she held a cold beer. She walked around in front of me and held out the bottle.

"Here," she said, "I thought you might want this...and this!" She knelt down in front of me and started unzipping my pants. I thought my dick was going to rip through my jeans before she could get the zipper down. Before I had time to realize what was going on, she had her hand around the base of my shaft and her glossed lips were pulling the head of my dick into her mouth. I don't know where she learned to suck head, but I didn't care. I was in heaven. I just sat there mesmerized, looking down at her bobbing up and down on my shaft. Suddenly she stopped and looked up at me.

"Drink your beer," she whispered.

I did as I was told. For some reason, it never crossed my mind that my own corruption could somehow trigger sexual urges in my wife. It was no secret that I'd fantasized about her becoming a hot ass bad girl, but it came as a complete surprise to me that my own transformation might have triggered something in her. I opened the beer and chugged. I looked down at her and noticed her looking up at me with lust in her eyes, my dick pushing against her inner cheek.

I couldn't stand it any longer. I reached down and pulled her up before I exploded in her mouth. I grabbed the bare cheeks of her ass and rubbed my finger against the g-string of her thong.

"Strip," was all I said. She did as she was told as I did the same thing. Now here she stood before me, in the well light den, as naked as the day she was born. I looked at her mound and smiled. She was shaved smooth, just the way I liked it. I turned and stretched out on the sofa and she started to mount me. I shook my head and directed her around. She took the hint and turned around and straddled my face, putting her body weight on her knees on each side of my neck, her six inch heels brushing past my head. I placed my left hand in the small of her back and pushed her pussy down to my face. At the same time, I used my right hand to push her head down on my dick. She got the hint. I started eating her pussy while she sucked my dick.

She was never one to be vocal during our love-making sessions, but tonight was different. The harder I ate her pussy, the more vocal she became. Her moans started low and deep, but as she neared orgasm, she began to call out.

"Oh, oh, oh! Oh, my GOD!" she screamed. I could feel her arching her back and I knew her head was thrown back in pure ecstasy. She began to shudder as she came, her juices dripping down the sides of my mouth. I allowed her a few seconds to come down off of her sexual high, I then began to push her down to the floor. I sat up again and told me to finish her. She knelt down in front of me and took my throbbing dick back into her mouth. She finished me off and when I finally came, I came in her mouth.

***

Sarah started her new job the next morning. I knew she was nervous, and rightly so. She had never held a secular job, much less interacted with people "in the world" on a regular basis. Sarah left to go meet Robert Parker and her new district manager, Susan Theriot, about the same time I did. She was dressed in her best ankle length wool skirt, nice fashionable boots, and a turtle neck sweater. She had her hair put up in her customary bun.

I kissed her goodbye and wished her luck as I headed out the door. Throughout the morning, she kept me posted with regular texts and called me twice on my lunch break. The day was going much better than she'd anticipated. Susan decided that Sarah would get a better feel for the clients she was expected to market to if she had closer contact with those clients in a salon. Therefore, instead of moving Sarah into a cubical in the headquarters office across town, she offered her a loft in one of the franchise salons downtown. Sarah was happy and called me to meet her at the salon after work.

By the time I arrived that afternoon, Sarah had already gotten acquainted with the stylists at the salon. Most were in their mid-to-late 20s, as was Sarah, and all seemed to be exceptionally friendly and outgoing. Sarah's church is rather large for the area and most people in town know one of "those people" when they see them. They immediately pegged Sarah for one of "those people", but didn't let that get in the way of being welcoming. I'm sure they were just as much a shock to Sarah. Most were very trendily dressed in short dresses, tight jeans, and tight shirts that revealed cleavage. As hairdressers are prone to do, most wore their hair in a variety of vibrant colors from burgundy to platinum blonde and most here wore their hair short in the latest hair show style.

For the next several days, Sarah's days were filled with training classes and our afternoons were spent prepping her office. I was forced to dust the cobwebs off my meager carpentry skills as we worked to turn a run-down attic apartment above the salon into a nice, comfortable office space for Sarah. We put in some long hours that week. So long, in fact, that Sarah skipped church Wednesday night and again Friday night. She even skipped the church car wash on Saturday afternoon, opting instead to lie around the house in a faded old skirt and t-shirt and watch TV.

Slowly but surely, I noticed changes in my wife. None of the changes were dramatic and most of Sarah's closest friends or relatives would have never noticed that anything was different. But Sarah and I had been inseparable since college and I knew my wife. First of all, it was completely unlike her to miss any church function, no matter how insignificant or how tired she may be physically. Also, I could tell that spending the majority of her days with the girls at work, most of whom were non-religious themselves, was taking its toll on Sarah. I suppose in an effort to fit in, Sarah began to make minor, very subtle changes to her outward appearance.

One of the first things to go was the ankle-length skirts. Sarah, more often than not these days, sported tighter fitting knee length skirts that hugged her curves and looked much more fashionable. Skirts above the knee were strictly taboo in Sarah's church, but below the knee skirts were still acceptable, if somewhat frowned upon. I'm not so sure I can say the same for Sarah's choice in blouses. Sarah had always worn her sleeves long, usually to her wrists and her collars were normally high and buttoned. In all of our time together, Sarah had never worn anything sleeveless or low-cut. Now, however, she regularly sported tighter, short or sleeveless blouses to go with her skirts.

The girls at work were different than anyone Sarah had ever known. Sarah had never been around women who talked about sex, but in a salon, sex seemed to be the only topic of business. More than once, Sarah came home still blushing from something one of the women had said at work. She was naïve about most things sexual, just as I had been before my de-conversion. Sometimes she'd come home and ask me about something sexual the girls had mentioned at work and I'd just try to explain without laughing out loud and making her feel like a bimbo. Sometimes I'd tell her to do what I did... just look it up on the Internet. That was a mistake that led to the biggest fight of our marriage and set us down the road that ultimately led us to where we are today. Who would have known that something as insignificant as a website would be such a profound catalyst for change?

Sarah had never had any experience with computers. Sure, she had an introduction to business computers class in high school and a refresher class in college. She even had one at the daycare so she could answer emails and keep records on the kids, but for the most part, she was computer illiterate. Her pastor viewed the Internet as a tool of Satan if not handled properly and he didn't trust his "saints" to handle it properly.

However, Sarah now had to spend a significant part of her workday surfing the web. She went from almost no practical knowledge of the Internet to using it on a daily basis. She did almost all of her sales and orders online, as well as all of her communications. For the first time ever, I received regular emails from my wife. Her unrestricted access to the Internet at work opened a tremendous new world to Sarah.

It was bound to happen sooner or later and one Monday night, it did. Sarah was in our bedroom on the computer and I was in the den watching football. Our bedroom was next to the den and I heard the computer chair roll violently across the room.

"James Edward!" she exclaimed, standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. I knew she was angry, but I could also tell she was fighting back tears. She was visibly hurt. "How could you?" she asked.

I was confused. "How could I what? What did I do?"

"What is this?" she asked, pointing at the monitor.

"It's a website. What's the big deal? So I look at some porn every once in a while. I am a red blooded male for Christ's sake!"

"Don't use the Lord's name in vain! You know better than that, just like you know better than to read filth like this!"

I was getting angry myself by now. "It's a fucking website, Sarah. It doesn't mean I'm cheating on you."

"It's filth, Jim, sinful, stinking filth! It is disgusting and I'm disappointed that you'd even stoop to that level. What is it? Am I too plain for you now, is that what it is? Aren't I sexy enough? Is your Christian wife too boring for you in bed, so you've got to go to filth like this and masturbate?"

"How do you know its filth? Have you ever read it, Sarah?" I asked, trying not to raise my voice.

"Of course not; unlike you, I don't get my thrills off of looking at other people's naked bodies. I was raised to believe that sex was sacred between a husband and wife. I thought that's how you believed, too. I was wrong, I suppose." Now she started to cry.

"No, Sarah, you weren't wrong. You're jumping to conclusions and you're being close-minded," I grabbed Sarah gently and turned her toward the screen. "Sure, that particular site has some pictures of nude women. And yes, I believe those women are hot, but I don't find them more attractive than you. If you'd actually take the time to look at my sites, you'd see that ninety percent of them are story sites. That's what turns me on, Sarah. Not looking at other women, but actually reading stories about other people's sexual experiences. Why is that so wrong? How is that any different from you watching the late movie on Friday night and then getting aroused?"

"What about it? It wasn't pornography and I wasn't masturbating to it."

"Yes, Sarah, it was porn, rather you want to admit it or not. It was sensual, it was sexual, and it sexually aroused you. You, in turn, acted on that arousal and gratified yourself sexually. Where you used my dick, my tongue, or a big ass rubber dildo, it was still sexual gratification. Why is that so wrong?"

"Because it just is. Masturbation is wrong, period," she stammered.

"Why? Because you say it is? Or because some man who stands behind a microphone on Sunday mornings says it is? Why, Sarah? Why is it so wrong? Have you even tried it?"

"Of course I haven't. Unlike you, Jim, I only have sex with my husband, not myself!"

I knew the argument was fruitless. "Well, dear, maybe you should try it. I think if you tried a lot of things, you'd find that you'd like them."

I turned and left the room. She turned and went back into the bedroom and slammed the door. I wanted to tell her that I never frequented those sites anymore since she'd loosened up sexually, but I figured it wouldn't make a difference anyway. She was pissed and there wasn't much I could do at the moment to change it.

Eventually, we repaired our relationship. Like any good husband, I apologized for whatever she perceived as my fault, even though I still didn't feel like her accusations were founded. She accepted my apology and things returned to a semblance of normalcy. Sarah no longer had her best friend at church to lean upon, so she gradually became closer with the girls at the salon.

Soon after our making up, I noticed that Sarah seemed to be a little more open to some of the risqué things I'd discovered. She was more open about the conversations the women at the salon were having and she asked me questions about my own fantasies more often. One night she asked me about fetishes. I was afraid this would lead into another fight if I got too deep into the subject, so I just sort of played it off. I quietly suggested she research the subject online. I expected to reject the idea, but instead she said she just might. I left it at that, assuming that she would drop the subject and never pursue it. I was wrong.

Sarah finally allowed herself to research some of her questions about sexuality. To put it mildly, she discovered porn in a big way. Sarah would come home from work and get on the computer after she'd had her dinner and shower. She had bought herself some lose fitting shorts and pajamas and started wearing those around the house with a tank top or t-shirt. That was pretty significant because she had always condemned others in church for wearing anything that resembled pants as "flirting with sin". She had never worn those things before, even in private, but now she wore them regularly. I'd often walk into the bedroom and see her sitting cross-legged in the chair, reading a story online. Several times I caught her clicking out of a window just as I walked in. She would click back to some mundane website, but when she'd look at me her face was flushed and she had that guilty look. She knew she'd been busted, but she didn't say anything and I didn't mention it. Besides, on those nights when I knew she'd been surfing porn, I could expect some pretty wild sex. Who was I to argue with getting some?

One Friday night I'd gone to the Broken Spoke after work and was having a few beers with Tommy when Lizzie walked in. She came in sporting a new, shorter haircut and she'd added some highlights. Tommy complimented her on the change and leaned in to kiss her while I ordered her a beer.

"Thanks honey," she said. "I got it done today at Salon Paris downtown. Jim, you didn't tell me that Sarah worked there now. It was a surprise walking into a salon and seeing her there."

"Yeah, she's been there for quite a while now. She's in charge of marketing for several of the salons Robert Parker owns around town. She seems to like it and the money is much better," I said.

"That's what she said. She's a hell of a marketer, that's for sure. It was her idea for me to cut all my hair off. I've never had really short hair in my life until now. For someone who doesn't cut her own hair, she sure can convince others to cut theirs," Lizzie laughed.

I was shocked. I knew how Sarah felt about touching scissors to your hair. Until now, I thought she'd only been marketing styling products, not encouraging others to cut off their "glory". Lizzie must have noticed the confused look on my face.

"Well, anyway, I just went in for a trim. When I saw Sarah come down the back stairs, I went over to say hi. We sat down and talked for a while over coffee and the subject turned to hair. One thing led to another and the rest is history. Hair today, gone tomorrow!" Lizzie continued. "But one thing Sarah said did sort of seem odd. She said that she was tired of her hair and wished she could just cut it all off. I don't know Sarah very well, but I know some of her beliefs and I found that a little odd, don't you, Jim?"

"Who the hell cares?" said Tommy, reaching for the pool cue and cutting me off before I could answer. "We're in the middle of Jimmy here getting his ass kicked and we don't give a fuck about women's hair." I just laughed and didn't bother to answer. I did, however, get my ass kicked in that game of pool and several more. I was too preoccupied with the changes in my wife. As soon as I could, I got in my pickup and headed home. I expected to come home to an empty house since it was Friday night youth service night.

Instead, I walked in to find Sarah sitting at the kitchen table talking to Kelly Wells. It was the first time I'd seen Kelly since she'd backslid from the church and damn, but she had made some changes. I hardly recognized her. She had always been as ultra-conservative as Sarah. Now all of that was gone. Her long, brown, mousy hair was gone. Now she sported a short, trendy bob haircut cut in an asymmetrical style. Her hair was dyed a light honey blonde, but darker hues peeked out from underneath her long bangs and the short bristles above her bare and obviously shaved nape were dark as well. She kept her hair on one side tucked behind her ear and that ear sported several piercings. She must have had six rings in each ear. The bottom of her ear sported large silver hoops that seemed huge to me. I noticed that she was wearing a tank top and a pair of fashionable, if very short, khaki shorts.