Emily's Story

I looked at him quizzically, "You mean you would have liked me to try that before?"

It was his turn to look embarrassed. It was all the answer I needed.

I asked, "Is it wrong to enjoy it that much?"

Frank thought for a moment. "As long as we're married, I think that it's OK."

"But not just at night? Not just in bed?" I pushed back the chair, dropped my serviette onto the table and stood up. Frank watched as I walked around the table to him.

I had intended sitting on his lap, but his legs were still mostly under the table, so I stepped over and straddled him (again) and sat down. The dining chairs are quite broad, forcing my legs wide apart. As I ground my genitals into his I felt the reaction in his trousers. The skirt of my dress had ridden up to my hips, revealing that I was wearing stockings once more.

"Now?" he said.

"Now," I replied.

His hands dropped to my thighs and pushed the skirt up to my waist. When he saw that I had no panties he gasped and slid his hands round to squeeze my buttocks.

I was actually unsure of what to do at this point. I mean, I know I wanted him to make love to me and he wanted to. But how did we get there from here?

To this day I don't believe what actually happened; Frank suddenly stood up, lifting me with him and depositing me on the table -- right on top of his half eaten lunch. He pushed me back, flattening the cake that I had intended for dessert. Cups, plates, cutlery and food scattered as he lifted my legs so that my calves were on his shoulders. He released his penis from his trousers and pushed into me. My head fell back onto my plate. I was vaguely aware that I was already in a mess, but I no longer cared and - more importantly -- neither did Frank. He plunged in and out as though it was a matter of life and death. I could hear squelching, partly from the food and partly from my sopping pussy.

Alas, Frank climaxed all too soon for me. He went to withdraw, but I held on to him.

"I... I haven't finished yet," I struggled to say.

"What Do I...what do you want me to do?"

I reached down and could feel that although he was no longer fully erect, he retained some solidity.

"Can you keep going, just a bit longer?"

He began his movements again. He seemed unsure, so I encouraged.

"That's it Frank. Push as deep as you can. You can go faster if you like. Ohhh! That's it, just like that. Keep going; you're going to make me orgasm. Yes!" I yelled the last word as the moment arrived, finally. We kissed and cuddled while getting our breath back.

Afterwards, we had to go upstairs and get cleaned up -- we were quite a mess. Following a shower we laid down on the bed next to each other, naked.

Later, Frank went off to the evening service. For once I stayed behind; after all, I had a lot of tidying and cleaning to do.

*****

The next day (Monday), Frank had to attend a conference. I decided to spend the day having a bit of a clear out and getting rid of some old clothes. It didn't take me very long. Although both Frank and me had inherited from our parents and were reasonably well off, we tended not to spend too much on our clothes. With time on my hands it seemed a good idea to tackle my husband's wardrobe as well. I'd almost finished, when I reached up onto the top shelf to see if there was anything left there out of sight. My fingers found a book which, out of curiosity, I retrieved.

A Complete Beginners Guide to Sex was not the kind of book that I would have expected to find in the wardrobe. I'd never seen it before, but the date inside the front cover indicated that it was published / printed about twenty odd years ago. I sat on the bed and started to thumb through it. Almost immediately I realised that Frank must have purchased this shortly before we got married. Very clearly, the way he rubbed my pussy to get it aroused was what he had been taught (and shown) in the book.

I was quite surprised by some of the drawn pictures of both male and female organs. I'd never actually looked at my own genitalia; it made me wonder if I was very different to the diagram. So, I fetched my hand mirror and pushed my trousers and panties down. I found the view unsatisfactory, so I took them right off, allowing me to part my legs more fully. I compared the pictures to the reflection and then used my fingers to open up the labia and inspect the inner regions. The pictures showed a before and after shot (before and after arousal). Mine looked like the latter; the lips puffy and the vagina opening in readiness. I slipped the tip of my forefinger in experimentally, but then wanted to insert the whole digit.

"No, I mustn't!" I told myself out loud.

I turned my attention back to the book; after the more clinical details it moved on to the basics of union; the classic or missionary position, the deep penetration position (which I had experienced the evening before) and then came the one where the woman was on top - but that was just the start.

As I moved through the book I found things that I had vaguely heard of, or suspected, but wasn't sure were true. Cunnilingus took a while to even learn to pronounce, but the idea of Frank using his mouth and tongue just there was impossible -- and yet exciting. But the pictures and descriptions of fellatio were even more breath-taking. I actually found myself not only wondering what it would be like, but how I could persuade my husband to let me try it.

By the time I had gone through the book I had learned many new ideas. I had also found out that there were some things that couples did which I simply would not credit -- and would certainly never try myself. But it was the masturbatory techniques that fascinated me the most. The simple way that I had used to gain satisfaction could be enhanced in so many ways. I put the book down and picked up the mirror again. This time I didn't hold back, but continued using my fingers and thumb to bring myself to orgasm while watching how my body reacted. At the last moment, I turned the mirror to watch my face. It looked painful, yet I was feeling something wonderful. How strange.

I put the book away where I found it and then finished the chores that I had lined up. Then I got the phone call from Frank to tell me that he was being delayed and that he would be back late. I eventually went to bed alone and didn't even wake when he crept into the bedroom in the early hours.

The next day Frank was off out early again on his duties. I took the car to go shopping. As I said before; money has not really been a worry for me, but I never really felt right about spending large amounts. The problem with the ripped panties could be resolved by simply buying more, but the last few days had told me that perhaps I should make some more... well, flattering purchases. I drove the twenty miles to Torquay, where I hoped I would find what I was looking for. I also hoped that I would be far enough away not to bump into parishioners.

I tried Marks & Spencer first. I wasn't over-impressed by their selection, but I found a couple of sets of lingerie and also purchased some lace-top stockings. I continued looking but BHS was a washout and I even tried Peacocks in desperation. But then I found Debenhams and another three sets. I felt incredibly guilty that I had already spent so much money, so I bought ordinary everyday stockings to go with them -- a dozen pairs! I ended up purchasing two dresses and a pair of shoes as well by the time I returned to the car. I put the purchases in the boot and then went to get some lunch.

I found a small restaurant in Union Street and sat down to a simple yet filling meal. As ate I noticed the shop diagonally opposite; Ann Summers. I'd heard of it before. From the outside it was a lingerie shop, but I gathered that they sold a lot more besides inside those doors. I took my time plucking up the courage to go in there and have a look round. After all, it couldn't be any worse than what I had seen in Frank's book.

I tried my best to look like a "woman of the world", but I could feel my eyebrows shooting up towards my hairline with every step I took. I spent a while looking at the underwear while sneaking glimpses at the other displays. The life-like penises in different colours were quite a shock. Some of them were ridiculously large -- I mean a woman couldn't possible use anything that big!

I got the impression that the young lady serving at the counter was watching me, so I hastily grabbed a Basque that was my size. I figured that if I looked like I was holding something I intended purchasing then nobody would pay me any attention. I looked at some more underwear and picked up another set. Then I sidled over to the vibrator shelves. Just looking at them was making me felt hot and flustered. I recalled how I had enjoyed using a finger the day before and wondered if maybe one of the smaller vibrators would be any good.

I bought one -- and some batteries.

I should have felt excited during the journey home, but my emotions were different. For a start I felt incredibly guilty because I had spent so much money. I suppose I could justify purchasing underwear for everyday use, but not the special things. And as for the sex shop purchases; it was only when I got back to the car that I realised that the black Basque was virtually transparent. Worse still, the panties were of the thong variety, something I had never, ever worn before -- or even considered. As for the other set; they weren't only see-through, but the panties were crotchless! I didn't even want to think about the vibrator.

Back at the vicarage I busied myself with preparing dinner for the two of us. There was supposed to be a flower committee meeting that evening, but it had been postponed due to Mrs Duckworth (the chairman / woman / person) being unwell. We were happy for her to organise the flora for the church and although in effect she was the one in sole control, we acquiesced to her need to hold regular monthly meetings.

So, for once our evening was free. We sat down to a relatively early meal and then after washing up watched a little television. We didn't do this very often and usually only had time to catch up on the news programmes. This time was different; there was a film showing and we settled down to watch it. It seemed alright to begin with, but then there was a heavy petting scene. Frank turned the set off.

"I thought things like that weren't supposed to be shown before the nine o'clock watershed?" I was surprised by the scene, but not entirely shocked. But then again I agreed that there was an appropriate time before which it shouldn't be shown. Still, as we'd broached the subject, I decided to ask a question:

"I found your book today. The one in the top of your wardrobe."

At first he looked puzzled, so I helped him.

"The sexual technique book," I explained.

"Oh."

"Did you by any chance buy it just before we got married?"

"Well, yes, but I can explain."

I smiled, "There's no need. We were both innocent and inexperienced and you wanted to make sure that you did things right. And you did!"

He looked relieved.

"But tell me," I continued. "Did you ever read all the way through it?"

"Um... no I didn't really get the chance."

"But you saw the pictures of a couple... with the woman with the legs over the man's shoulders?"

He nodded. So that was how he knew what to do on the dinner table.

"I read through it yesterday," I confessed. "It was... quite interesting really. I'm surprised you didn't read more. I mean, there are... things that we could... try."

"You mean that you would like to... try... different... things?"

"Uhuh," I nodded. "And almost the first thing I read; couples should discuss sex openly."

"We're doing that now aren't we?"

"No I mean really discuss it. For instance; do you ever... masturbate?"

"Emily!"

"Don't be so shocked Frank. I do... occasionally. I sometimes feel the need to... well finish things off after we make love -- if I don't get there during sex, that is."

He looked appalled.

"Well?" I prompted.

He took a deep breath, exhaled a little and then finally answered, "Yes, sometimes. I try not to, but I can't help it."

"Have you ever done it in the church?"

The sudden painful, ashen look on his face told me that I had asked a question that was a little too near the mark. But I pushed on.

"It's OK to tell me, really. Nobody else is ever going to know."

"But it shames me."

"Did you feel an urgent need? Was it because of me?"

"Always -- it was always you that I was thinking of!"

I felt so much love for him at that moment.

He continued, "The other day, for instance; I was about to go over to the church when you came out of the bathroom. You dropped your towel on the floor to get dressed and then I saw your reflection in the mirror. Your body is still so beautiful. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I was so hard that I had to do something about it in case somebody turned up and saw. So I went into the Vestry and locked the door."

I felt that it was best not to push any further just now. We had already come a long way in just a few minutes. But then Frank surprised me.

"And what about you, have you ever... in the church?"

"No, actually, I haven't."

"And what about going to church without any panties on?"

I giggled and said, "You know I have."

"More than once?"

"No, but I'm not promising I won't do it again."

"Me neither," he said with an unusually cheeky grin.

*****

That evening we retired to bed early. I told Frank to have a shower and that I would follow suit. He readily agreed. I think that our conversation earlier had got him prepared for sex. When I returned from the bathroom, I was wrapped in my bathrobe.

Frank was lying on the bed reading a folder. He looked up when I came in and put the papers aside, removing his reading glasses in the process.

"Stand up," I told him.

I could tell that he was already excited by the way that his penis was starting to push out from his pyjama bottoms.

"Now undress for me."

The jacket came off straight over his head and the bottoms were pushed down to the floor. Not exactly a scene from 'The Full Monty'.

"Now get on the bed." He did so.

"Do you think you're ready to try something a bit different?"

"Yes," he squeaked. His penis was fully erect now and jumped every so often.

"Now I want you to show me how you... masturbate. There's another word for it isn't there?"

"Wank."

"That's it! I want you to show me how you wank and I'll put a little show on for you. Oh, but don't go too far will you?"

Frank shook his head a little and then wrapped his hand around his shaft. He stroked it up and down. I found it fascinating to watch, but I knew that I couldn't wait too long.

"Time for me to unwrap your present," I told him. I slowly pulled the belt undone and then shrugged it from my shoulders. It fell to the floor in a heap, but neither I nor Frank noticed. I was watching him, watching me.

The Basque hugged my body, the delicate lace caressing my skin. I could feel my nipples harden and with every breath my bosom moved causing the material to stroke the tender flesh delightfully.

Frank's eyes roved over my almost naked body, taking in the darkened nipples and spending quite a long time enquiring of my pubic region. I had trimmed the hair and instead of the bushy growth that he was used to seeing (very rarely, I might add), he could see my almost denuded pussy lips through the transparent gauze. His hand moved a little faster. I swayed gently to and fro as a walked towards the bed. I still wasn't used to the thong bisecting by bum cheeks, but the way that the knickers felt on my pussy... Oh! My!

I climbed on to the bed and crawled on all fours up next to Frank and kissed him on the lips. He reached for me but I pushed his hands away.

"No, wait," I told him. "We're going to take our time. Now lay still."

I took hold of his shaft and lifted it until it was standing. Then I copied the way I had seen him rubbing it before. Frank closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto the pillow. I looked at it and marvelled at how beautifully intricate were the veins that stood out. It was now or never if I was to find out what it was like to go further. I bent over until I was so close that I could smell the freshly washed skin. I puckered my lips and then kissed the very tip, watching my husband all the time.

Frank's eyes shot open.

I smiled and licked my lips. There was a slightly salty taste and I realised that something sticky had exuded from the gaping hole. I seemed to recall reading something about that. I resumed kissing all the way down the shaft. The hairs on his testicles tickled my nose as I reached them. I kissed each one, slightly parting my lips as I did so. Frank watched as I moved back up his length. I paused at the tip.

"What do you think I'm going to do now?" I asked.

His head shook almost imperceptibly. I felt so aroused myself that any reservations that I may have had were all but evaporated. I pressed with my mouth and parted my lips. I was immediately taken with how big it felt, but I was determined to get the head in. In fact, after relaxing my jaw muscles I was able to get it in considerably further. I withdrew and then repeated the motion.

He didn't last very long, bless him! He grunted with a long strained sound and I felt the first spurt in my mouth. Shocked I pulled away and the second jet hit my cheek. The initial surge had gone straight to the back of my mouth and I had swallowed automatically, but now the taste buds were responding and telling me about the tang. To my surprise it wasn't unpleasant. I continued rubbing Frank, watching string after string erupting from the end. When he had finished, I went over to the dressing table and grabbed a box of tissues. I wiped my face and then wiped the sticky mess from his chest and stomach.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly said with a pained expression. "I didn't want to climax so quickly. You... I haven't done anything for you."

I smiled, but in my mind the wheels were turning. I could masturbate for him. Show him how I do it. Or I could get Frank to do it for me (I almost doubled over at that unbidden thought). Then I thought about that vibrator hidden in my bedside drawer - but I hadn't put the batteries in yet. In fact, I hadn't even got it out of the box! And then I thought about that chapter on oral sex. Would Frank be prepared to do the same for me, I wondered?

I moved back up the bed and lay next to him. He looked absolutely spent, but I wasn't yet. I kissed him and he didn't seem to mind where my mouth had just been.

"I'm glad that you enjoyed that. Um... how would you feel about doing the same for me?"

"You mean...? I don't know how, but if you've just taken care of me, then I suppose I can't argue can I?"

"No, you can't Darling," I replied and then rolled onto my back.

"Well, alright, but first I want you completely naked."

I relaxed and let him remove my lingerie; first the lace topped stockings, one by one, then the Basque (which I had to roll onto my side to allow) and finally my knickers. He held them up triumphantly.

"I never in my wildest dreams have I imagined you in anything like this," he said. "They make you even sexier than you already are."

He was saying all the right things. Frank moved down the bed, took hold of my ankles and spread my legs. He began kissing his way up the insides until he reached my thighs. He stopped and looked up for encouragement.

"That's it. Just do what you think is right. I'll tell you what else to do." In truth, I wasn't entirely sure myself, but I was prepared to find out.

He kissed my pussy lips, sending shivers throughout my body. Then his tongue tentatively reached out and made contact with the lower part. He drew it upwards and I arched my back in anticipation of it reaching my clitoris.