tagLoving WivesThou Shall Commit Adultery

Thou Shall Commit Adultery

byCatesby©

Abigail Randall strolled lazily through the village square. The summer breeze would occasionally lift her short dress, exposing her legs up to mid-thigh. She noted with satisfaction the way the men in the street looked at her, their lust apparent for all to see. They had been looking at her this way since she had moved to the village with her husband six months before. Several of them had done a great deal more than just look, and this was why Abigail was on her way to church for confession this afternoon. Abigail didn't really believe in the possibility of absolution, but she had her own reasons for wanting to declare all her sins.

A group of women stood by the fountain as she walked through. Their voices lowered to a whisper until she had passed, and Abigail knew that they had been talking about her, as all the women in the village did. She was rarely called by her given name. She was always referred to as the harlot, the vixen, the whore, or the slut. Some of the more fervently religious amongst them would spit on the street as she walked by. None of this worried Abigail too much. She had been in many villages like this in her twenty-three years, and she had been in many cities too. She had learned whilst still a child that it was a man's world that she lived in and that it was far more important to be liked by men than by other women.

Since before she grew into womanhood Abigail was well aware that she had some kind of power over men, that she drew them to her without bidding. When she at last reached puberty she realised the secret of her power and began to understand the nature of men's lust for her. She would quite happily indulge them in their desires, lay herself open before them and give them what they had dreamed about, only to find that they always wanted more. She knew her face was very beautiful, her skin smooth and delicate, her features perfect in every way, but she also knew that it was her body that men found most appealing. Her legs were very long, her waist small, her hips wide and her breasts large and firm.

As she entered the church, a stocky, well built man in priests' garb noticed her and immediately headed for the confessional. She came every week at this time and he was always ready for her, ready to listen to her and absolve her of her sins. When she used to go to confession as a young girl she hated every minute of it. She wanted to scream at the priest that he was a liar. That everything he said was a lie. That he was full of shit.

Another problem she usually found when talking with priests was trying to control her language. She may be living in a small village now, but she grew up in the city where people spoke plainly. Ever since her first confession in this church a few short months before, she had been able to speak freely, tell her story in her own words.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned," Abigail said as she took her seat.

"How long has it been since your last confession?" a deep voice questioned from the darkness.

"It has been one week since my last confession. Father, I have much to confess. I have sinned many times..."

"Pray continue, my child. God is listening."

"Well Father, last Sunday was the day of the village fair, and as you know, my husband was organising everything. All the proceeds were to go to charity so he wanted to make as much money as possible. One of the attractions was a kissing booth. Some of the locals frowned on the idea, saying it was sinful, but my husband knew that the men would pay good money for the chance to kiss one of the prettier local girls. He had asked around for volunteers but the only girl willing to do it was the postman's daughter, Mary Archer. I don't like to speak ill of anyone, Father, but you would have had to pay the men to kiss her, not the other way around. So eventually, my husband asked me if I would do it instead. And I agreed.

"The booth was really a large tent at the far end of the field, and when I went inside it that morning I saw that there was a table with two chairs on either side. I was supposed to sit on the one at the far side, while the men came in one at a time, put their money in a jar on the table, then leaned over it to kiss me. I was tidying things up in there when the first man came in. It was Mr Raito, the butcher. He stood beside me and put some money in the jar. I should have gone and sat behind the table, but I thought I might as well stay where I was, and let him kiss me standing up.

"I've never liked the man. He rarely shaves and always smells of meat. Whenever he catches me alone in the street he won't stop groping me. Nevertheless, when his lips touched mine I felt that fire in my belly that I've known so well ever since I became a woman. His tongue pressed against my lips, seeking entrance. I opened my mouth and allowed him to kiss me deeply, passionately. More than I was supposed to. His hands grasped my buttocks and he drew me closer. I could feel him, his manhood...his cock pressing against me. He was all hard."

"Did it arouse you, my child?"

"Yes, Father," Abigail nodded in the darkness.

"Pray continue."

"I knew I should have pushed him away, but for some reason I couldn't. My lack of protests must have encouraged him. He reached up and began fondling my breasts as he kissed me. I knew it was a sin, but I let him do it anyway."

"Is that all he did?"

"Yes, Father. He began lifting my skirt. I knew that in seconds he would attempt to remove my underwear. He wanted carnal knowledge of me, Father. He wanted to put his thing inside me. He wanted to fuck me, I'm sure of it."

"And did he fu...did he fornicate with you?"

"No, Father, he didn't."

"And why didn't he?"

"He heard a noise from outside the tent and he rushed off. I think he was scared in case his wife found out what he was trying to do to me."

"Why do you get yourself into these situations?" the priest asked in a gentle tone.

"I can't help it, Father. All the men in the village, they know me. They know how hot and bothered I get when they're near. I think they must smell the arousal in me. Often when I pass them by they reach out to feel up my tits and my ass. They know they can do anything they like to me and all I will do is smile and encourage them to do even more. Do you think that makes me a slut?"

"I don't know? Do you?"

"Yes. Probably," she said nonchalantly.

"Perhaps there is a problem in the marital bed? Perhaps that is why you seek satisfaction elsewhere."

"No Father. My husband pleasures me very much. Every night. I love it when he makes love to me."

"But surely he knows what you get up to. The village gossips have a field day with you. I have heard them, I must admit. What does your husband think of your shenanigans?"

"The thing is, Father, he would know even if the women here didn't like to tell tales. I tell him myself every time a man so much as looks at me. If he does more than just look then all my husband asks for is more details. I'm sure he enjoys it. He wants his wife to be a slut. That's why he chose to marry me."

"Perhaps," the priest said. "Certainly I have heard of men with those inclinations. It is strange behaviour but not as uncommon as you may think. The devil works in mysterious ways, just as our Father in Heaven does."

"Yes, Father, but is he, my husband, is he evil?"

"No, of course not. It is a sickness. That is all. Perhaps if..."

"If he didn't have such a slutty wife, he might get over it? Is that what you were going to say?"

"No, no my dear. It is not your fault. Although one might say that you are his partner in crime. After all, it is you who are committing the sin. He is merely tempting you."

"Like the Devil?"

"Yes. In a way."

"I see, Father. Thank you. It helps to talk about it."

"That's what I'm here for, my child. Now, you told me that you have many more sins to confess."

"Yes, Father. That man, the butcher. He was but the first. I had to kiss every man in the village. As soon as they found that I was the girl in the kissing booth they all came along to the fair."

"I see. And did they all kiss you like Mr Raito?"

"Oh no Father. Some of them were very shy. One of them, the carpenter's boy, he was very shy indeed. He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and then turned to go. I had to call him back to give him a proper kiss."

"A proper kiss?"

"Yes. With my tongue."

"You made him kiss you like that?"

"Yes, Father. He's a very handsome boy, much more than most of the men in the village. I wanted to kiss him more than the others, so I did. I knew he wanted to really. I could tell he liked it. I held him close and I could feel his cock against my belly. He was hard too, like all the others."

"All these men you kissed. They were all aroused?"

"Yes, Father. Especially after I took off my bra."

"Why did you do that?"

"One of the men. Mr Seymour. He asked me to. He said he'd give me extra if I did it. It was all for charity so I could hardly say no, could I?"

"You showed him your breasts?"

"Just for a second or two. I just took off the bra and pulled down my dress for a little while."

"Your breasts were naked before him?"

"Yes, but he didn't touch me or anything. I was expecting him to. To be honest, Father, I kind of hoped he would. I was feeling very excited, having had all those men kissing me and feeling up my ass."

"And when he left, you didn't put your bra back on?"

"No. I didn't see the point. And anyway, I didn't have time. As soon as he left, the next one came in. There was quite a queue outside."

"And did any of the men who came in after him ask to see your breasts too?"

"No, Father. Well, not right away. I think almost every man in the village had come into the booth and kissed me within the first hour of the fair. Then some of them came back for a return visit. Mr Seymour must have told them how I'd shown him my tits for an extra charitable donation. Of course now they all wanted to see them. I know it was naughty...sinful, but I did it anyway."

"For charitable reasons?"

"No, Father. Because it turned me on to see how they looked at me, how their eyes glazed with lust as they stared at my naked tits. It made me all wet, Father, down there."

"Down there?"

"In my pussy."

"Did the men touch you?"

"Yes, Father. By now I was sitting on the table, facing the men as they came in one by one. I didn't bother putting the straps of my dress back on. I just sat there, my tits openly on view as soon as they came in. Some of them asked me politely if they could touch them. Others just stepped up to me and began squeezing my tits while they stuck their tongues down my throat. Then they began to do more, licking my nipples, sucking on my tits. I let them all do whatever they liked.

"Soon things went even further. The schoolteacher, he asked to see my stockings. I lifted up my skirt for him, up high so that he could see my suspenders. When the next fellow came in I remained in the same position, my stockings and suspenders on show. As he kissed me he ran his hand up my skirt, feeling between my legs. He told me that I must be enjoying myself, seeing as how I was so wet. I just winked at him and let him carry on groping me.

"By now I realised that all the men were crowded outside the tent. Each time one of them came inside and took their pleasure of me he would then go out and tell the others how far I'd let him go. Of course, each of them wanted to go further than the last. If one had just felt my panties, the next would want to feel inside my panties."

"You let them feel inside? You let them feel your..."

"My pussy. Yes. Oh Father, I couldn't help myself. I was so wet, so full of desire. I feel wet now just remembering it all."

"What happened next?" he asked in a low, breathless voice.

"Before long one of them helped me out of my dress and I sat there in just my underwear. Then the next man unhooked my suspenders and took off my panties so I was completely naked but for my stockings. I sat on the table facing the men as they came in, my legs spread apart, waiting for their fingers to feel my warmth and wetness."

"You let them go even further, didn't you?"

"Yes, Father. I soon noticed how they all had erections and one of them, the carpenter's son, he looked uncomfortable. So I told him to free himself of his burden. I told him to take out his cock."

"And did he?"

"He was very shy. I had to help him. I unzipped him and took it out. It was throbbing in my hand, all thick and hard. I held him in my hand and placed his hands on my tits. Then we kissed. A few seconds later he had spilled his juices all over my belly. He may have been shy, but he wasn't modest. He told all the men waiting outside exactly what he'd done. After that, they all took out their cocks the moment they stepped inside the tent. Then they pleasured themselves while they kissed me and groped my tits and drove their fingers inside my pussy. I was covered in their sticky juices.

"Jansen, the postman, he came in for the second time. You know he's very arrogant, Father. He told me to get off the table and sit down in the chair. I didn't know why he wanted me to at first but it became clear when he held the back of my head in his hand and forced his cock between my lips. He rammed it down my throat, fucking my mouth like it was my pussy. When he came it all dribbled out of my lips and onto my chin. I don't know if he told the others what he had done, but he didn't really need to. The next man who came in took one look at my cum-splattered face and he made me suck him off too.

"After that they all wanted it. My jaw was getting sore from giving all those blowjobs so when Mr Raito came back again I told him that he couldn't do it. He was quite angry, saying that it was unfair seeing as I'd let so many others fuck my mouth. He was very upset and all I could think of to do was lie down on the table and let him use my pussy instead."

"You let him fuck you?"

"Yes, Father. To be honest, I really wanted it. I was so turned on by letting all these men grope me and seeing all their cocks, feeling them in my mouth, it made me desperate to feel one inside me. He didn't last long, but it was enough to make me scream out loud as I came. Some of the men outside rushed in when they heard me cry out. As soon as they saw that I wasn't being hurt they stayed in the tent. They stayed and watched as each of them took turns fucking me there on the table. They made me cum many times. I loved every minute of it."

There was silence in the confessional for a few moments, then Abigail spoke again.

"I know I've been very sinful, Father. What is my punishment?"

"Well, Abigail," he answered after a short pause. "You must say the Act of Contrition and then fifty Hail Mary's and fifty Our Fathers."

"I don't think that's going to be enough, Father. I don't think it will stop me being a filthy slut at all."

"What do you suggest?"

"I think you should come home with me and put me on your knee. Pull down my panties and give me a good hard spanking. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes," came the reply in a throaty whisper. "Let's go."

He walked out of the confessional, stiff-legged, and made his way to the coat rack at the end. He pulled on his overcoat and tied a scarf around his neck. He looked over at Abigail as she stepped out of the confessional booth. She ran her hand up and down her thigh, swaying her hips lightly. She was amazing. A force of nature. Sex on legs. He walked over, took her by the arm and escorted her out of the church.

The women by the fountain looked on in disgust as the pair of them passed by. Abigail stuck her tongue out at them, bent over and lifted her dress to show them her ass. She wasn't wearing any panties.

"Did you see that?" the carpenter's wife asked when they had moved out of earshot. "I can't stand the pair of them. The Lord knows why Father Linehan asked him to renovate the church. His wife shouldn't even be allowed into such a sacred place. Yet she's always there to meet him and they go home together as if they were a normal couple."

"Normal?" scoffed Mrs Raito. "How could it be normal. He knows very well that she's nothing but a whore. And what does he do about it? Nothing at all. I caught my husband leering at her last week. If he does it again there'll be trouble, I tell you."

The two old women spat at the floor then quickly found someone else to gossip about.

"So," Abigail said to her husband when they reached home. "You going to give me a good spanking? You going to give me my punishment?"

"No, baby," he replied, taking off his overcoat and changing out of the priest's uniform he had found whilst working at the Church. "I'm going to fuck you. Hard. It won't feel like a punishment, believe me."

He looked at his wife and smiled. They had been playing this game for a few weeks now. He would dress up as the priest and listen to her fantasies, as if they were her confession. Then they would go home and fuck like bunnies. Today's was the best ever. There was so much added spice knowing that the village fair was in fact tomorrow, and that Abigail was indeed going to be the girl in the kissing booth. He was sure that she was really going to have something to confess about afterwards.

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byCatesby© 14 comments/ 72253 views/ 2 favorites

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