You Are Your Problem Ch. 02

"That's a little different from the message we hear from the pulpit. You know, the idea that people have sex only after marriage. God made it enjoyable, to encourage reproduction and the continuation of the species. But it was for marriage only and anything else was sinful. He's preached about that, you know, that there are strumpets, but they are bad, evil, sinful."

It didn't feel strange to be having this kind of a discussion with a woman who was at least thirty years older than I was. In fact, it felt good, reinforcing something I really believed, and to my regret, I had not practiced.

"So what happens if there is a complaint?" I honestly did not know why I asked that question. Perhaps it was the attitude Hilda had that she was teaching and I was the student asking for a clarification of that day's lesson.

"Oh, we'd be pretty much obligated to pass that information along to any church that inquired."

"How is that done? I mean, how would the church want someone to give that information so it could be a complaint?"

"A letter is best, but some people don't want to write about something they feel is a lapse of morals. You never know who could get hold of a letter. So two elders will listen to whatever someone wants to say, and they always suggest the person bring someone with them, you know, just to make sure everything is on the up and up."

By this time, I'd stopped spreading the grout and was sitting on the floor listening to everything Hilda said. She grinned at me, letting me know she understood I might be asking for myself, but was still treating the subject as general information.

"Let's see, I think the last time I heard of someone needing to do something like that, they called an elder and made an appointment. My Jacob called another elder and had the meeting here in the house. I left the house for a while to give everyone privacy and Jacob never discussed it with me. I never even learned who came here that night. I do know he wrote a report and asked the other elder to sign and date it. That's all I ever knew. I never knew if he mailed the report or just called someone to deliver the message."

"Hilda," I smiled at her. "If the subject ever comes up, will you please remind me that I don't ever want to be an elder."

Hilda patted me on the shoulder, "Robert, you would make a wonderful elder. Only a man who understands sin and forgiveness can teach another person how much it helps them to confess and ask to be forgiven, and then appreciate when that forgiveness is granted."

* * * *

Laurel listened to my explanation of the lesson I'd learned from Hilda. She winced when I said, "Those stupid elders that invited him to be the pastor of our church should have known better. They knew he'd been accused of the same thing at both of the churches he'd been at before he moved here."

I couldn't help being pissed off at their lack of diligence, either. However, as much as I wanted to do something physical, I kept remembering what my dad had said. I wanted revenge. I wanted him gone and I wanted him to know I'd done it to him. However, I also wanted some kind of revenge that would make a difference, rather than leave me with a few bruised knuckles.

At first, Laurel was resistant to any kind of disclosure. I asked her how she would feel if she learned Doug Hebert had hurt another woman after he left our church. I assured her that if she agreed, I would do most of the talking and no one but the two elders would listen to what I had to say. They might want to ask her a few questions, but she didn't have to answer any that made her feel uncomfortable. I was going to confess and tell what I knew and what I saw.

I could not have asked for two more understanding men than Hilda's husband, Jacob, and the other elder, Gerald. They listened to me and never frowned about a single thing I told them. I know they shed a few tears when I described my promise to Laurel that I'd never see Carol again. They didn't say a word when I talked about how I broke that promise by spending the Easter weekend with her.

Gerald muttered something unintelligible when I told about specific times I had noticed Brother Hebert paying particular attention to Laurel, complimenting her on her clothing, and how he asked her to come over to his house to help him with his children. Both men's eyes got large and very angry and Gerald muttered, "Bastard," when I told about the afternoon that I saw Doug Hebert and my wife having sex in his bedroom. I know Laurel heard what Gerald said, but she held her head up and looked straight at both men. By that time, they understood how she had been seduced.

After I'd talked, confessed, and laid my heart at the feet of those two men, they asked Laurel if she wanted to add anything or correct anything I'd said. She shook her head and said, "I just want him stopped so he won't do it again."

* * * *

Because he had already given notice, Douglas Hebert's position as pastor of our church was terminated at the end of two months. The church had a new pastor, a young man fresh out of divinity school. He and his young wife were expecting their first child. She had a degree in music with a skill that brought young people into the church at a surprising rate. The older church members even liked his down-to-earth sermons.

Sometime around the fifth month after I moved out of our bedroom, Hilda stopped me one Sunday morning as I was leaving church. "Robert, I'm not sure who to tell, so maybe you can deliver a message for me. I think there are a couple of men who might like to know that Douglas Hebert is working as a clerk and traveling salesman for a religious publishing company."

"Really?" I was surprised. "I thought he was looking for a position as a church pastor."

"Yes, for some reason, none of the churches that invited him for a tryout ever offered to hire him. I think my husband returned about twenty telephone calls over the last few months."

I thanked Hilda, and told her that Laurel and I would miss the next Sunday's services. We had spent a few evenings talking to our new pastor and his wife, both of whom had some experience with counseling. At their suggestion, Laurel and I were going on a honeymoon.

As high school students, we never got the chance to have a first honeymoon. I hadn't moved back to the master bedroom, but I was really looking forward to sleeping in a hotel bed with my wife. I'd teased her until she blushed and wiggled with excitement about what I was going to do to her. Although we hadn't resumed sexual relations, we had enjoyed some pretty heavy petting sessions. I could almost bring her to an orgasm by kissing her and playing with her breasts.

Almost every week, Laurel and I had a date night. Sometimes it was just a movie, and other times it was a nice dinner. She would wear her prettiest dress and I'd marvel at the woman who was the mother of our four children. She was a pretty teen when I married her, but she was now a beautiful woman, mature, confident, and she could get my motor running by walking by me and blowing me a kiss.

However, it was the other six nights of the week, when we did not touch, that were the most difficult. I might give her a quick kiss before I left the house in the morning or when I got home in the evening. We might occasionally hold hands, but only in public when we didn't dare go any farther. We learned to talk to each other and complain without getting angry. I learned my jealousy was my fear that I didn't have all of Laurel's attention. As soon as I understood I did have her undivided attention, I even became comfortable with her teasing other men; but there, she was careful, too. Her way of teasing was being friendly with people we had known all our lives. Just as she understood that women who stopped to talk to me were people my parents knew, or someone for whom I'd done work around their home or business.

* * * *

Now, after driving a couple of hours while I teased Laurel that she was going to enjoy what I had planned, we were finally in our hotel room. I hadn't told her any details, just that there were some things I wanted to do to give her pleasure, but I kept saying we were going to have fun. I'd treat her like a queen, wait on her hand and foot, and take her to any restaurant she wanted. She had even agreed not to wear a bra or panties in the car, but only after I assured her we were going straight to the hotel. I wasn't going to touch her in the car. I just wanted her to feel sexy.

I gave her a few minutes to look around the room and then I started undressing.

"Laurel," I called as she was walking out of the bathroom, taking off the short jacket she wore over her dress. It might be the middle of winter, but the top of her dress was more like a sundress with small straps going over her shoulders. "I want a blow job."

"Robert." Her voice had a little uncertainty in it.

She wasn't comfortable with my cock in her mouth and she just couldn't bring herself to swallow, but she would play with me when she was in that kind of a mood, stroking me, or tickling my balls. However, I could not recall ever simply asking her to give me a blow job.

I wasn't going to relent, "Right now. I want a blow job and then I'm going to do the same to you."

"Why ... you've never asked ..." Laurel was still turned on from the way I had been playing with her as we rode the elevator up to our room. Luckily, we were alone in the small box as it went up to the tenth floor. I stood behind her, nuzzling her neck and squeezing her bottom while she pushed back against me. I wrapped my arms around her, squeezed her breasts, and then gently pinched her nipples.

My cock was so hard it pointed right at her, leaning just a little to the right. It bobbed with each step I took to meet her between the wall of the bathroom and the corner of the bed.

She started to pull her dress over her head and I caught her hands.

"Leave it on. I want to take it off of you like I'm unwrapping a present you are giving me."

It was the middle of the day, not quite noon. That I could recall, we had seldom made love in the daytime. I could probably count those occurrences on one hand. For the first few years we were married we'd lived with my family. The small house offered very little privacy. If we could hear my parents having sex, they and my brothers had heard Laurel and me doing the same.

By the time we moved, we were expecting our third child, and the children's bedroom was only a thin wall away from our bed. Like most young couples with small children, our days were busy with earning a livelihood and being domestic. Sex seemed to take a third place behind jobs and family.

Laurel smiled, kissed me quickly and then dropped to her knees. She put one hand around the base of my cock and grinned up at me, "This is mine, you know."

I sort of jerked, but didn't pull my cock away from her. She giggled and stroked me once.

"When it's like this, it's mine. The rest of the time I let you piss through it, but when it's hard, it's mine."

Her face turned very serious as she looked up at me.

"I did nothing to prevent you from taking him to visit other women, but I won't make that mistake again."

Laurel parted her lips and sucked the head of my cock inside her hot wet mouth. My knees buckled and I felt her chuckle. She pulled her head back very slowly and wiggled her tongue on the underside. My hips jiggled from the intense feeling. For what seemed like hours, I'd been so aroused that I knew I wasn't going to last long, but I didn't care.

My beautiful wife and I seemed to finally understand that sex was just exactly what I'd told Hilda. God made sex to encourage reproduction and the continuation of the species, but the primary thing most people thought about when they imagined sex with someone they loved was that it was enjoyable, the greatest pleasure a person could imagine.

Laurel put her hands on my ass and pushed against me, but she couldn't take more than a couple of inches of my cock inside her mouth. I didn't care. If she ever learned to take more, it would be me she learned from, which was part of joy of marriage that I'd forgotten, what we did in our private moments was done because we wanted to share something that was pleasurable.

I warned Laurel that I was getting close and she nodded but didn't take my cock out of her mouth, she just kept moving back and forth. It was all I could do not to put my hands on her head and push my cock down her throat. I was shaking with the intensity of the feeling. She was doing this because I asked her to, rather than because it was what she wanted to do. The first blast of my semen caused her cheeks to bulge. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed. She quickly swallowed the final few dribbles of cum and held my cock in her mouth for a long time.

I fell to my knees in front of her. I was crying, not huge body-shaking sobs, more like tears of joy. I held Laurel and she held me. After about a minute, I realized she was stroking my head, her hands going down the back of my head and rubbing my neck. I'd seen her do that so many times to one of our sons, when they were upset or had been hurt. It felt good to know that the last six months of self-imposed celibacy were over, but more than that, we had a deeper understanding of how important sex was, to both of us, for what we could give to the other.

I sat back on my haunches, for a moment, and then reached up to pull the straps of her sundress off her shoulders. At first, she was going to take her dress off, but I asked her to let me.

I had to be very careful and take my time. I wanted this to last so long that Laurel would be aroused enough to lose her prim and proper attitude and beg me to fuck her. I wasn't interested in making love to my wife this first afternoon. We both needed lots of raw, uninhibited, dirty, nasty sex and I knew I had to get Laurel's level of arousal much higher than it was now.

I cupped her breasts in my hands, sliding my thumbs across her rubbery nipples.

"These are mine, you know." I looked up at her, repeating the same thing she'd said about my hard cock.

"You don't need them to feed our babies, so they're mine to play with."

I leaned forward and sucked a nipple into my mouth, increasing the pressure and then sucking even harder. Switching to the other nipple, I did the same. Laurel's head leaned back while she was pushing her breast into my mouth, holding the back of my head to make the stimulation even greater.

Pulling Laurel to her feet, I turned her around and lowered the zipper on her dress as I kissed my way down her back. The dress fell around her ankles and I was on my knees kissing the cheeks of her ass. She tried to move, but I wouldn't let her. I kissed down the back of one leg until I reached her knee and then started back up the other thigh, while my thumbs slid back and forth in the crease where her cheeks joined her legs. I was pushing my thumbs between her legs, getting closer and closer to the moisture I could see beginning to collect on the flushed lips right in front of my eyes. As if she knew what I wanted, Laurel moved one foot to the side and leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees, giving me access to her pussy.

The first time my tongue brushed across her clit, Laurel jerked, so I did it again. After a few times of brushing my tongue between her labia, I turned her and pushed her down onto the bed. My mouth was between her thighs before she stopped bouncing. Now I was going to feast myself as I had never done before. I had learned a lot from Carol but had never demonstrated my skills to Laurel for fear she would have known I'd learned it from another woman.

I can be a calculating asshole when needed, and this was one of those times. I'd planned this for weeks and I was determined. There was no way for me to know if Laurel was aware of how I was positioning her body, but that wasn't my concern at the moment. My mouth and tongue were busy driving her wild. I managed to get both of her legs slung over my shoulders. I slid my hands under her thighs then up and over the tops of her legs and had my hands between her thighs, holding her pussy open for me to plunder.

Her clit grew a little longer and harder every time I sucked on it. Then I would go back to brushing the tip of my tongue between the two lips on either side of the opening to her vagina. My tongue went in and out of her vagina a few times; then I'd suck on her clit again and flick it with the tip of my tongue. By this time, Laurel was squirming. She raised her head and shoulders to look at what I was doing and then her head slammed back on to bed as she exhaled with a whoosh of air.

Her labia were so engorged they remained separated. I took one hand and brought it down under her until I could push a finger inside her going in and out a few times then adding a second finger. Her juices were flowing, running down onto my hand, and dripping off my chin. Laurel had never been so wet. I turned my hand palm up and wiggled my fingers inside her until I found the little nubby spot.

She started making her little sounds, "Eek, eek, yes, o-o-oh. Eek, eek, yes, o-o-oh."

Using the tip of my finger, I brushed across that spot as I gently bit down on her clit. Laurel exploded, moisture shot out of her vagina. She wailed with a long drawn out, "E-e-e-k". Her hips bounced on the bed. She put her hands under her legs and pulled her thighs up until her knees were almost touching her shoulders. Her interior muscles clamped on my fingers and held them for a moment before the contractions began to lessen. I wiggled my fingers, sucked on her clit, and flicked it with my tongue until Laurel had another orgasm, even a little stronger than the one before.

By the fourth orgasm, I could no longer hold her. She was wiggling all over the bed and I was trying to keep up with her movements. I finally got up on the bed on my knees and grabbed her ankles, held her legs up in the air as far apart as I dared, and slammed my cock into her. I fucked my wife.

I slammed into her as hard as I could and felt my balls slap her with each stroke. Laurel had another orgasm where her ejaculate hit my belly, dripped off my balls, and ran down my legs. I had to move with her to stay inside. I didn't slow down. I fucked her until suddenly all my energy was gone. I slammed into her and held still as I felt the deep pain in my lower belly, then a pinch at the base of by cock as my cum jetted into her. I may have roared like the wild animal I felt at that moment.

Laurel grabbed my shoulders and pulled me down to her chest. Both of us were panting so hard we couldn't say a word. Sweat was pouring off me. Our bodies were drenched in perspiration. Laurel's ejaculate was all over my face, my chest, and both of my thighs. When I finally had the energy to roll off her, Laurel turned her back to me and curled into a ball, pulling my arm across her. We slept, or maybe we passed out in each other's arms. A short time later, as I was waking up, I felt Laurel moving beside me. I tightened my arms around her and kissed the back of her neck.

"I need a shower, Robert," she mumbled.

I do not know why, but it seemed funny that all the years we'd been married we usually took our showers before we had sex. Today, we had sex first. "Me too. Can I take a shower with you?"

"Really?" Laurel sat up, both of her breasts bouncing as she turned to me. I couldn't resist. I leaned up, captured one nipple between my teeth and looked up at her.

"Later, tiger," Laurel joked and pushed against my forehead.

While Laurel got the shower started, I pulled the wet bedspread off the bed and tossed it to the corner. Then I stepped into the shower behind her and pulled her against me. "You know, there are four big wet spots on that bedspread."