I met my wife during our second year of bible college. I thought she was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen the first time I saw her up on stage, singing a solo in the school choir. She wore the most elegant conservative Pentecostal dress I'd ever seen, and despite her obvious attempts at being modest, it sure seemed to cling to her curves in all the right places. I couldn't make out much about her figure except that she was petite and obviously well built. Like all girls in our religion, she didn't wear any makeup at all, so I knew there would be no surprises in the looks department. With these kinds of girls, what you see is what you get. And what I saw was a beautiful young church girl with the most amazing blue eyes that I had ever seen. Women in our church aren't allowed to trim or cut their hair in any way. This girl had the most gorgeous mane of curly red hair you can imagine. My tastes have changed, but in those days I had this thing for girls with really long hair, redheads in particular. It was love at first sight.
I managed to get up enough nerve after the service to go speak to her. I found out that her name was Sarah and she came from a small town in the next county over from where I grew up. It wasn't long before we started dating, or what our church tried to pass off as dating. We hit it off right from the start and within months we were madly in love. Pre-marital sex was strictly forbidden in our religion and since I had high ambitions of being a famous pastor or evangelist one day, I tried my best to keep my hands off of her. Mostly I did okay, even in the throes of passion when we were making out, but it was hard.
We dated in school for two more years before we finally announced our engagement. After graduation, we had a big nice church wedding in her home church and her pastor helped me get a job offer at a large and growing church in a neighboring state. I decided to take the position as Assistant Youth Leader and her as a Sunday School Teacher and the manager of the church's day care program. It meant moving away from home and our loved ones, but we were young and adventurous and couldn't wait to see what was out there.
We moved to our new home and settled into a life of religious normalcy. I loved my job and she loved hers, especially the young adult class she taught in Sunday school. We were barely older than the kids we pastored, so it was a great job for us. At home, things couldn't be better. We were both raised that sex was for procreation and not necessarily for pleasure and we both wanted a large family. It was what was expected of us. We may have been ultra conservative in our dress and behavior, but we still wanted the American Dream.
That first year was marital bliss. I quickly rose up the ranks and was offered the position of Youth Pastor after the one we had got caught with one of his students. It was a huge church scandal, but it opened the door for me, so I took full advantage of it. At home, Sarah kept things interesting. Sex was good, if not frequent. We were trying hard to have children, but after a year of trying, we still hadn't had any luck. When we finally visited the doctor, we received the first real blow to our marriage... I was shooting blanks and we wouldn't be able to have any children.
To be told that I was the reason we couldn't have children really put me into a tailspin of depression. Having kids was the centerpiece of my plans to one day pastor a large church. Our church was strict with legalism and if you were to be the head of the church "family", then you were also expected to be the head of your own family. Although I was depressed about the situation, Sarah tried her best to cheer me up and keep me focused. She argued that we could always adopt and that if God really wanted us to have children, He'd find a way. With her encouragement, I kept going through the paces and continued to build my youth group. Soon, I had one of the largest and active youth groups in our district. I was on track to continue to move up the ladder and I was confident that I would, especially when Sarah was offered the position of Sunday school director.
Not long after we got the news about our inability to have children, I got a bit of good news. The senior pastor was retiring and his son was moving up to the position, leaving the assistant pastor position open. I was first in line for the new AP position, so it came as no surprise when the new pastor called me into his office. What did come as a surprise was when he told me that he was giving the assistant pastor position to someone fresh from divinity school.
I was absolutely devastated and consequently, I let it affect my youth ministry. Within weeks, I was called into the pastor's office again. This time I met with both the senior pastor and his new assistant. I knew things weren't going to have a happy ending. To make a long story short, my ministry was called into question, I was offended, words were passed, and I was fired.
If Sarah had her hands full with me before, she really had problems now. I was incensed and I wanted us to move back home immediately. She refused. I don't know why I was so surprised that she wanted to remain in her position at church. We were raised that a woman was subservient to her husband, but only as long as it coincided with the wishes of the church itself. My leaving was a sign of rebellion and she could have no part in my spirit of rebellion. I asked her to choose between me and the church. She chose the church. As she became more devoted to her church, I began to rebel even more.
I did manage to find a decent job as an assistant manager at a Harley Davidson dealership downtown. We both had decent jobs, so the financial situation was stable, but I still feared our marriage was headed to a bad end. I resented the fact that she stayed at our church against my wishes, and she obviously resented my sinful nature. I even considered leaving her, but to be honest, I still loved her and didn't want to imagine life without her. Our sex life, while always conservative, had become cold and nonexistent. We became strangers in our own home, barely speaking as we passed in the hallway.
Slowly, as I became more comfortable in my job, I began to make changes. I'd lost all interest in church completely and turned my back on my old dreams of becoming a famous pastor. I started to hang out with the guys at work more and more and I let some small minor sins creep into my life. I started to curse more and more and I got a kick out of the dirty jokes the mechanics in the back of the shop liked to tell. After work I'd hang out with the guys, telling dirty jokes, talking about women and sex, and drinking the occasional beer. On Fridays, I started stopping off with the sales manager at a local sports bar to have a drink or two before going home to Sister Christian the Ice Queen.
When I was youth pastor, I had bought a fifteen passenger van with my own money to haul the youth to different events. When I was fired, I kept the van out of spite. I sold it and bought a very nice vintage Harley Davidson hog. Before long I had almost completely stopped driving my pickup to work and rode the Harley everywhere I went. I was slowly immersing myself in the biker culture and it began to show on the outside as much as the inside. I grew my hair out until my close cropped preacher's hair was replaced by long loose curls, brushing the bottom of my collar. I stopped shaving and grew a long mustache and soul patch under my bottom lip. I'd always been fairly slim and somewhat muscular, but I'd started going to the gym during our lunch hour with my manager and my muscles were toned and ripped. When I wasn't at work, my suits and ties were replaced with faded jeans and tight t-shirts.
As I made these changes and more, I knew that they would push Sarah even farther away, but I didn't care. I didn't give a shit about her misguided view of Christianity anymore and I was determined to do what made me happy. Although strictly forbidden by our old religion, I bought a big nice HD TV. When I got home from work, I'd eat dinner, take a shower, then settle in for a night of college football or a good movie. Sarah would usually refuse to enter the den when I had the TV on. I guess she didn't want to be corrupted. I took it all in stride and continued to do what made me happy, my prudish conservative wife and the devil be damned.
My drinking after work became more and more frequent and it was only a matter of time before I brought my new love home with me. I thought the first case of beer Sarah found in the fridge was going to be a divorce for sure. It did erupt into a huge fight, but in the end we just let the issue lie. She knew she wasn't going to change me and I knew she was much too brainwashed by her idiot of a pastor for me to change her. We were at a stalemate, but since I was still paying most of the bills, there wasn't much she could say.
It wasn't long after I became bold with my changes and my new life of sin, I started to notice a few chinks in Sarah's own armor. It started slowly. She would wander into the den when I was watching a college football game and sit down beside me. She still didn't say much, but she would curl up on the couch and enjoy a glass of tea and some popcorn while I drank a few beers. Beer invariably made me horny and I still found my wife amazingly attractive. I'd find myself rubbing her bare legs that stuck out from the long jean skirts she preferred. She didn't resist and my rubs turned into heavy petting. Soon, we were rolling on the couch making out like we did when we were in college. I honestly think the taste of beer in my mouth turned her on even more. She kissed me with more tongue than she ever used to and with more passion, too. I also noticed that the nights I wasn't drinking, she seldom came into the den to sit with me.
When I first met Sarah in college, she was my epitome of what a good wife should look like. She was medium height, slim but curvaceous, gorgeous blue eyes and that amazingly long mane of curly deep red hair. The problem was, I was making all of these changes on the inside and out, and Sarah hadn't changed at all in almost two years of marriage. She still wore loose fitting conservative skirts that came to mid-calf, long sleeve blouses that came to her throat, and she kept her hair up like most members of her church do. In fact, her hair was her greatest vanity. It was what identified her more than anything with the church I had come to despise for what they did to me and my dreams.
Meanwhile, as her life continued on without change or adventure, mine was moving ahead at a breakneck speed. My taste for trying new things was insatiable. I was drinking regularly, had started smoking cigars periodically, and had discovered porn. Well, I more than just discovered porn. I became addicted to it, especially stories of women who transformed themselves into sluts or did things they hated. Porn also turned me onto new fantasies about how my ideal woman would look. I found myself being turned on by women with tattoos and piercings, slutty clothing, and party girls. Biker girls often came into the dealership. Since they fit many of the things that now turned me on, I began to fantasize about them. Even as a pastor, masturbation had been my weakness. Now it was my favorite pastime.
Things at home continued on without change for weeks. I was becoming bored with my marriage and I knew Sarah was frustrated as well. I even contemplated divorce.
One night, over a quiet dinner in which neither of us had much to say, I finally breached the subject.
"Are we over?" I asked.
Sarah dropped her fork in surprise. She was obviously shocked and looked at me as if I had two heads. "Huh?" was all she could mutter.
"Are we over? I mean, is our marriage over? Have we grown too far apart?"
"We have grown apart, but I still love you if that's what you mean. Why, do you want a divorce?" she asked, tears rimming her deep blue eyes.
"I don't know. Do you?"
"No. I mean, I don't know. I just wish things could be like they used to be," she muttered. "Things were so good then. But you, you've changed. You've let Satan into your life and he's changed you. Pastor warned me that it would happen when you left the church. I hoped he was wrong, but I see he's right."
I could feel my anger mounting. This was not going in the direction I wanted, but I was powerless to stop it.
"Fuck your pastor! It was that motherfucker that shit on every dream I'd ever had. That bastard cost me my career, my dreams, and now, by god, it looks like that dipshit is about to cost me my wife! Stupid motherfucker!"
Sarah had never even heard me say "shit" or "damn" before, much less drop the F-bomb. She was totally shocked and was crying openly now. I may have become a hard ass, but I still had a soft spot where she was concerned. I reached out and touched her hand. She flinched and tried to withdraw it. I held it tight and softened my voice.
"I'm sorry, Sarah. I know all of these changes are more than you can handle, but I'm tired of living like this. What we had was real, and I miss that. I can't keep going like this."
"I can't either. I know what happened to you was hard, but you could have turned to me. You didn't have to shut me out and make all of these, uh, changes."
"I didn't mean to shut you out, Sarah, but what was I supposed to do when you remained loyal to the bast...uh, man... that ruined my life. I never resented you, but I admit that deep down I resent that you chose the church over me."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, but the church is my life. It's all I've ever known. I can't imagine my life without it. I thought once that you understood that!" she sobbed.
"I do understand it. Or I did. I'm not so sure I do anymore. Once upon a time, I felt the same way. I couldn't see myself doing anything else. But that part of me is dead now, Sarah, and he's not coming back. I enjoy life now. I'm not bound by a stupid set of rules that have nothing to do with anything. Sure, Sara, I drink now. I curse, I let my hair grown, I've got a tattoo, and I even smoke cigars. Does that make me a bad person? Hell no! It just makes me a different person, bad by your church's standards, maybe, but not a bad person. And if I am being bad, then goddamn it, I fucking like being bad!"
I could see her cringe when I took the Lord's name in vain. She burst into another bout of tears. "I don't even know who you are anymore! The man I married would never say such things, much less mean them. Who are you?"
"I'm still the man you married, Sarah. I'm still me. These 'changes' you call them are things that have always interested me. I was just too damn scared or brainwashed to admit it. Haven't you ever wondered what it was like?"
"Wondered what?" she asked.
"Wondered what it was like to not be bound by those stupid church standards. To be free to do what you wanted, when you wanted, and not give a shit about what your pastor or your friends or even your Sunday school class thought about you?"
"Of course I haven't. Unlike you, obviously, I take my salvation very seriously."
"So you've never wondered what it was like? You've never wondered what it would be like to be out of church? To be free? Look me in the eye and tell me that you've never had any secret fantasies of being a bad girl at least once."
When I said this, she hesitated. For a split second, I could see doubt and anxiety cross her face. I'd hit a nerve. She didn't reply.
"Well, have you? Have you ever wanted to take a walk on the wild side?" This time I could almost hear pleading in my own voice.
"Of course I have. I'd be lying if I denied it. Sometimes I think about it a lot. But that's all I do...think. I can't do what you've done."
"Can't or won't?" I asked.
"Same thing." She replied. "So, does this mean we need to get a lawyer? Do you want me to move out?"
"No, I don't want you to move out. I don't want a divorce, either."
"Do you still love me?" she asked, hope evident in her voice.
"Of course I still love you. I just wish we could work all of this shit out. I miss you, Sarah. I miss sharing my day with you and hearing about yours. Do you know how much I'd love to share these 'changes' and the new pleasures I've experienced with you? But I know you wouldn't approve, so I don't bother. But you're right, Sarah, I know these changes are too much for you to handle and I tried to keep them from you as long as I could, but I couldn't keep living a lie."
"I miss you, too, honey. I miss you more than you can imagine. Church isn't the same without you there and it's pretty boring, to be honest, but it's my life. It's all I've ever known." She leaned over to kiss me and I returned the gesture.
We sat at the table, kissing and petting for several minutes before she finally pulled back.
"I'm sorry, honey," I whispered, "I'm so sorry."
"I'm so sorry, too. But making up is so much fun!" she giggled.
For the first time in months, my beautiful, innocent church wife reached down and grabbed my crotch and slowly began to stroke my member through my jeans. She looked up at me and smiled when I instantly became erect. I could see the devil through the lust in her eyes. I smiled back and let a small moan escape.
"Looks like someone is really happy to see me!" she laughed.
Without saying another word, I picked up my wife and carried her to our bedroom. I threw her on the bed and started to undress. She still had a smile on her face, but behind it, I could see something else. I could see pure, unadulterated passion.
She started to unbutton the buttons on her silk church blouse with one hand as her other hand pulled her flowing red mane down from her bun. I finished undressing as she wiggled out of her skirt and blouse, her hair flowing down over her bra. I looked down at her flawless white skin, so silky and smooth. My erect member nearly burst a blood vessel. I reached down and grabbed it, stroking it slightly.
I'd never done anything like that before, and I could see that Sarah was turned on. I grinned when I saw a small damp spot appear on her granny panties.
"Take that shit off. Take it off or I'll..." I said.
"Or you'll what?" she replied seductively. "What will you do to me?" she asked as she finished undressing. I climbed on top of her and put my face close to her ear, my manhood rubbing her dripping clit. With my hand, I rubbed her nipple. She shuddered and let a moan escape. I nibbled on her earlobe. Her body betrayed the passion building in her loins. She shuddered again as I took the head of my dick and rubbed it against the outside of her pussy. Her breathing was labored as she whispered again, more forcefully this time.
"Or you'll do what?" she whispered again, "Tell me what you'll do to me. Please tell me."
"I'll fuck you," I whispered as I entered her glory hole. She arched her back and moaned out loud. She had never been like this in bed. She ground her hips into mine and moaned louder.
"Say it again! Say what you'll do to me! OH MY GOD! Say it again!" she screamed as she began to fuck me back with wild abandon.
"I'm...going...to...fuck...you!" I muttered with each thrust. I knew that my wild side was turning her own and she was getting off on my use of profanity. I thrust harder and whispered, "I'm going to fuck your pussy until you scream, bitch. I'm going to fuck you until I corrupt you. I want you as corrupted and sinful as me! Is that what you want? Do you want to be a bad girl, bitch?"
She ignored my questions as I continued to pound her, but for the first time in our marriage, she fucked me back like a wild child. The headboard on the bed was beating against the bedroom wall, and she was screaming in pleasure. I knew she was releasing pent up energy, but there was something else there, too. It was turning me on as much as my profanity was turning her on. I just needed to hear her say it. I held my cum although I was about to burst. I grabbed her by the hips and thrust harder as I looked down on her, covered in sweat.