The Suburban Mom Pt. 06

Literotic asexstories – The Suburban Mom Pt. 06 by The_Veil_of_Isis,The_Veil_of_Isis
Chapter 17

Shortly after Marcia returned home, she received a message from Michelle, asking her to call her. Michelle explained that while she had demonstrated some development potential at the breakfast prayer meeting, the Pastor’s wife would need to meet with her one-on-one (yes, those were the exact words she used) before she could make any recommendations about the future of her and her family to the leadership group. She asked her if she could come over the following day at 11am.

Marcia thought that might be cutting it a bit fine with Connor back some time that day from LA, but seeing that so much was riding on the meeting she agreed. She could pick up the kids from school on her way home if it was a very long session, or stop off in town first for lunch and a spot of shopping if she got through early.

First things first, though: she messaged Connor to get an idea of what time he’d been with them tomorrow, and then hung up the washing she’d put on that morning before heading to Vesna’s. It was mild for the time of year, and there was a breeze, so she was able to use the back yard, where the things should be dry before darkness closed in. She was just going out to pick up the boys when Connor messaged her to say that he was taking the 2.30pm flight, so should be home by 8.30, if there were no unexpected delays.

That night, as she lay in bed, Marcia wondered what awaited her on the morrow. Of course, she knew in general terms, but the devil was in the details. She remembered how she had come when she was with Lana only because she was fantasizing about the older woman’s cunt, and even now she was becoming extremely horny thinking about her. There was something about her. It wasn’t just that she was the Pastor’s wife; she had tremendous raw sex appeal. Marcia found herself wondering if she still had carnal relations with her husband, or if he had long since reconciled himself to the fact that his life partner was now interested only in tasting the young meat that was freely available in his congregation.

When Marcia returned home after taking the children to school the following day, her mind turned to the not unimportant matter of what she would wear at her one-on-one with Michelle. She wondered whether they would meet in the same room or whether she might not be taken to one of the many bedrooms in the large house. She knew she must wear a skirt or a dress, and could of course always wear the same outfit again. However, she thought Michelle would appreciate it if she made a bit of an effort, and, what is more, if she made herself a bit more sexy for the older woman.

She opted for her super short lilac open-back tennis dress with built-in discreetly padded push-up cups, under which she wore seamless panties of the closest colour she could find for a near match. She went for light blue in the end. Her new sneakers completed the ensemble, which she covered with a mid-length raincoat. She couldn’t wait to see the older woman’s face when she handed her the raincoat once she was indoors.

Marcia wasn’t the only one who had been looking through her wardrobe, as Michelle met her at the door dressed in an off-white silk blouse (of which the first several buttons were undone) and an old gold calf-length skirt with a very generous slit. Even though she was indoors, she had out on a pair of heels, which clattered over the polished floor of the hallway. Her hair (mousey with streaks of grey) was tied back in a ponytail – not the severe bun she wore in church when on Pastor’s wife duties.

When Michelle offered to take Marcia’s coat, she had a pretty good idea that it might be concealing something more fetching. But the sight of the tiny tennis dress caused her to take a sharp intake of breath.

“Follow me,” said Michelle, ascending the main staircase – her heart aflutter.

The house was very quiet. Once again it seemed like no one else was there. Marcia followed the lady of the house into one of the bedrooms. It didn’t take her long to realise that this was no ordinary bedroom – this was the master bedroom, where, presumably, Michelle slept with Pastor Donaldson. Or maybe he had already been tipped out as surplus to requirements.

Marcia had never seen such a big bed. It could easily accommodate four people sleeping in a star shape out from the centre. Still, she supposed that sleep was the last thing on Michelle’s mind at eleven o’clock in the morning.

“Did you wear that because you thought it would please me?” asked Michelle in a gently probing tone.

“Yes,” replied Marcia simply, wondering if the Pastor’s wife was going to insist on her calling her “Mistress” or “Mrs Donaldson” or something like that.

“It does,” the older woman said. “Are you wearing panties?”

“Yes,” responded Marcia again, this time with a barely noticeable quiver in her voice.

Mrs Donaldson noticed it, though.

“It was very thoughtful of you to wear a seamless undergarment,” she said, reverting to the style of a nineteenth-century preacher that she had used the other day.

“How long have you liked women, Marcia?” she asked, this time with a more normal (actually quite friendly) tone.

“Not long,” Marcia answered her without embarrassment or shame.

“Have you fantasized about making love to me?” Michelle asked, still standing at some distance from Marcia, as if she feared she had a communicable disease.

“Yes,” said Marcia, back in monosyllabic mode.

“Is it because you find me attractive or because you think I have power – power to help you and your husband?”

“At first I was attracted by your power but then I started to desire your body?”

“Which part of my body, Marcia?”

“Your cunt,” said Marcia with no more emphasis than the word naturally carried.

“Take your dress off, then your shoes,” Michelle spoke, almost in a whisper.

“Maybe you could help me with the zipper?” said Marcia, turning her back to her host.

Michelle seemed happy to assist, pulling the slider down until it could go no further.

“While I’m here I might as well provide you with a little more assistance,” Michelle said, slipping the straps off Marcia’s shoulders and letting the dress tumble to the carpet.

“Go to the bed,” she said. “Take your shoes off but leave your panties on.”

Marcia did as she was told. Meanwhile, Michelle let her own hair down, dispensing with the ponytail for a more relaxed look, with a hint of the wild, as she shook her tresses out like a model.

Walking over to the bed, she told Marcia to take her blouse off. Both of the women noticed that Marcia’s hands were shaking quite pronouncedly as she performed this service. Without stopping to ask for guidance, Marcia pulled the tails of the blouse out of Michelle’s skirt and dealt with the last few buttons. She removed the blouse and placed it towards the bottom of the bed – as far as she could easily reach.

Michelle’s bra was sizeable, as befitted the globes it had to contain. Marcia had imagined they were fake, but when she unclasped the bra and the breasts were revealed, she wasn’t so sure. One thing was certain; for such large boobs, they were remarkably firm. Naturally, gravity and age had combined to give them a certain droop, but they were all things considered a very fine example of the species.

Marcia was about to remove the skirt, when Michelle reverted to the language of the pulpit, telling her to worship her breasts. It was an order that Marcia was very happy to obey.

Like many women with large breasts, the nipples were not overly prominent. Anyway, thought Marcia, she wouldn’t dive straight in the deep end, as it were; she’d start at the low water mark and work her way in. She still felt like she was on probation, but was going to do her utmost to be her natural self. That, after all, was why Michelle had summoned her to her throne room.

When her right hand landed on Michelle’s left breast, the older woman’s reaction caused Michelle to tweak her plans. That gasp spoke of a passion that had been simmering away, waiting for an outlet. Marcia saw it as her job to increase the intensity of that passion before she helped to relieve it.

She massaged the weighty orb with her fingers, using her left hand to support the globe. Progressively she brought the fingers of that hand into play too, gently rubbing the underside of her breasts, even as her the fingernails of her right hand began to rake the fleshy mounds. It was only after several minutes that she turned her attention to the nipple, initially when her pinky brushed it semi-inadvertently as it moved across her broad areola. Michelle’s light moan indicated exactly what she felt about the development.

Marcia took this as a signal to take things to a new level, massaging the nipple between finger and thumb even as her left hand moved away to attend to Michelle’s left breast. The bud swelled visibly under Marcia’s treatment, and Michelle swayed a little uneasily on her legs. Deciding the time was right to strike, Marcia latched onto the older woman’s aching nipple with her mouth. The effect was instantaneous, as Michelle gave vent to her long pent-up emotions.

“Yes, take me. I am yours.”

Marcia thought she sounded like something from a Gothic novel, Frankenstein perhaps. Still, it was good to know she was doing something right, and she knew what she should do for the next five minutes or so.

By the time that period was up, Michelle had got Marcia to take her skirt off, and had climbed onto the huge bed. The only question now was who would get to be licked out first. Marcia was easy: sure, she’d dreamed of the older woman’s cunt but she wouldn’t say no to a thorough going over herself. In the end, as she expected, a command from her host settled the matter. She had reverted to Biblical mode, perhaps reflecting the importance of the matter.

“You shall remove my undergarment and pleasure me orally!”

Said undergarment dispensed with, Marcia let her fingers play on the ridged folds, as she formulated her plan of attack. She would basically get stuck in and keep going until the old girl capitulated.

The bulbous folds were worth a visit in their own right. To have overlooked them would have been like the tourist who neglects to take in the other sites in Rome in order to rush straight to the Coliseum. Marcia’s tongue took the rollercoaster ride in its stride, enjoying the journey so much that she returned for a second go.

When Marcia prised open the flaps, she was greeted with a truly splendid vista: a mighty chasm yawned before her. It was as if Marcia was about to go caving. In she dove, casting caution to the wind.

“Fuck, yes!” said Michelle, still with the voice of a preacher, if not the vocabulary.

Marcia tried to drink in the entirety of the older woman’s juices, which were flowing now as if a dam wall had been breached. Ditching any residual trace of decorum, she slurped away for all she was worth, turned on by the obscene things the Pastor’s wife was screaming at her. She knew that screaming would soon be replaced by a final roar.

Chapter 18

As Marcia had often heard Pastor Donaldson say, head knowledge is a very different thing from heart knowledge. Perhaps he was so keen on the mantra because he too had experienced his wife coming like an express train. Rather than pleasure Marcia, though, she pulled rank by pushing her onto the bed and lowering herself onto her already aching jaws.

“Doesn’t the selfish cunt realise how much effort I put into that?” thought Marcia.

“Pleasure me again!” cried Michelle, seemingly intent on making that as difficult as possible by almost suffocating the younger woman.

Marcia thought of the house-group leadership position that hung in the balance for Connor, then of the luscious young babysitters who were likely to become available if she played her cards right today. It was her final audition, after all.

Marcia used her hands to get better leverage on her patroness, while using the opportunity to create a bit of a gap between her mouth and the woman’s generous cunt. This enabled her to get her tongue working properly, and she duly propelled it as deep inside the cave system as it would go. It must have been far enough, as Michelle began to chunter, though what exactly she might be saying Marcia had no clue, her ears having been put out of commission by the woman’s thighs.

Knowing that she wouldn’t be able to keep it up for very long, Marcia decided she needed to try a short cut. Her hand reached round to the woman’s ample ass and made its way to her anus. She felt Michelle shudder, which she took to be a good sign, and waggled her index finger around at the entrance to her back passage. If the dyke didn’t like it, she had every opportunity to tell Marcia so or simply pull her hand away. Neither of these things occurred.

As Marcia pushed her finger into Michelle’s asshole, she gave her cavernous cunt one final tongue thrashing. The effect was just as Marcia had hoped, as the Pastor’s plummeted over the edge once more. Without ceremony, Marcia pushed Michelle off her and onto the capacious mattress and took deep draughts of fresh air. She was spent.

Marcia was hoping for a timeout, but Michelle wasn’t interested. She wanted a taste of Marcia’s sweet pussy. First things first, though, she got Marcia to kneel on the bed with her and kissed her. Marcia was taken by surprise by this sudden display of tenderness but happy at any rate for the change in pace. The embrace lasted for some minutes, as they explored each other’s mouth with their tongue. Finally, it was Marcia’s turn to receive pleasure at the hands of the experienced woman.

She got her to lie down and kissed her neck for a while before moving to her breasts. She liked the way the nipples became swollen even before she touched them, purely in anticipation of the treatment they were about to receive. She had had her share of nubile young women (both married and unmarried) over the years, and this one was right up there with the best of them, both in terms of looks and performance. Michelle knew she was ambitious for her husband, but that only made her more attractive to her. She liked women who knew what they wanted and went after it.

Michelle noted how Marcia started moaning as soon as she started to lick her nipple, but she wasn’t fooled by this. She was a little disappointed, if the truth be told, that the young mom felt she needed to put on a show for her, and was about to upbraid her, when she chanced to see the juices running freely from her pussy.

“Heavens!” she thought. “This is one sexual woman!”

Michelle thought about slipping a finger inside the super-slick pussy, but decided that that pleasure could wait. Because now (with Marcia so responsive to her touch) it was about receiving pleasure as well as giving it for Michelle. So she continued to work on Marcia’s superb breasts, breaking off every once in a while to kiss her – each time, it seemed, with greater urgency and passion.

As her tongue trailed down Marcia’s midriff towards her pussy, Michelle recalled the first time she had made love to Charlene. Charlene had been a target of hers for many months before she finally succumbed to her charms. She had been brought up in a strict Southern Baptist family and her husband, Tom, kept her on a very tight leash. She could only wear long skirts and loose-fitting tops, lest she became the object of desire for the other men in the church. What Tom hadn’t bargained on was that his wife’s chastity would be broken down not by a man but by a woman.

When Charlene first started to attract the attention of the Pastor’s wife, Tom had been delighted. He looked at the connection simply in terms of the opportunities it offered him for promotion, and encouraged his wife to spend as much time as possible with Michelle. Charlene began to have concerns about Michelle’s intentions quite early on in their friendship, but there was no way she could tell her husband: firstly, he would consider it a deliberate slight upon him, and an excuse for not committing herself fully to the needs and aspirations of the head of the family, and, secondly, he would blame her, and say that she had designs on the Pastor’s wife.

Charlene continued to resist Michelle’s advances until one day she invited her over to her house when both their husbands were away at a conference, ironically enough on “Holiness”. She asked her to come along after the children had had their tea. She herself would arrange for one of their regular babysitters to look after her young children.

Despite herself, Charlene found herself going out earlier that day while the kids were at school to buy a whole new outfit, consisting of a white blouse, a tight-fitting black skirt and a pair of high-heel shoes. She had never felt so bad. But this was as nothing as to how she felt when she entered a lingerie store she had never set foot in before and purchased a matching black bra and panty set, a lace garter belt and black stockings. Before she got in her car, she covered herself in the largest overcoat she could find.

As she stood on the threshold of Michelle’s house, she felt a sudden sense of panic that she had misunderstood Michelle’s intentions and that she had invited her over to pray, as they had done in the early days of their acquaintance. She was on the point of turning away and returning to her car when the door opened and Michelle was standing there, inviting her in, dressed in a long black silk robe, tied loosely at the front. She too was wearing heels. She too, Charlene, just knew, even before she saw it, was wearing nothing but lingerie beneath.

The rest, as they say, is history. Michelle took Charlene by the hand, led her upstairs to her bedroom and spent the whole night initiating her into the mysteries of lesbian love. It was as well, Charlene thought, as she drove home as dawn was breaking, that Michelle had asked the babysitter to make it an overnighter. But then Michelle was an unparalleled judge of women, as Marcia was finding out almost 12 years to the day since the Pastor’s wife had brought Charlene into her circle of intimates.

With the memory of Charlene’s capitulation fresh in her mind, Michelle’s libido was sent into overdrive as she gazed hungrily at Marcia’s dripping box. She was almost exactly the same age that Charlene had been when she had first lain on this same bed, modestly keeping her legs together until the more experienced woman had drawn them apart so that she might begin feasting on her forbidden fruit. She had been wet, but nothing like this woman, whose need to be satisfied (no, “ravished” would be a more appropriate word) was screaming at her from her very core.

Michelle wanted to capture this moment for eternity. She wished she had used a camera, as she sometimes did with Charlene and some of the others, but she had decided that this might intimidate Marcia. Now, too late, she realized that little could intimidate this sensual being: she was indeed a woman after her own heart.

Marcia was insatiable. She came so often that Michelle lost count. Michelle took her in every position she could think of, but each time it was as if it was the first. Marcia then flipped the Pastor’s wife over and brought her to an almost instant climax as they tried a sixty-nine for the first time. Before Michelle could return the favour, Marcia enquired of her if he had a strap-on; she wanted to fuck her as she had been fucked by Vesna.

Once she had buckled up with the biggest dildo Michelle possessed, she assumed total control as she got the older woman to fellate her. She didn’t let her stop until she had come again, using her fingers to finish the job. Finally, it was time for her to enter the Pastor’s wife and to take possession of her. But she didn’t want to do this on the bed. She wanted to take her on the pool table in the den downstairs, which she had seen on her first visit with Lana.

She got Michelle to bend over the table, with her hands on the two side rails and her pendulous breasts bobbing against the baize, and entered her with an apparently practiced ease, as if this were the kind of thing she did every day. The older woman groaned as the shaft disappeared slowly but surely into her depths. Her groans were soon transformed into cries of ecstasy mixed with anticipation, as Marcia began to pump her rhythmically. She wanted to make the feeling last but Marcia had other ideas. She wasn’t in this to become another plaything of the Pastor’s wife, merely a notch on her belt; if they were to have an ongoing relationship, it would be as equals.

It wasn’t difficult for Marcia to drive Michelle into a state of frenzy, when she was feeling equally frenzied herself. When Michelle came, it triggered an explosion in Marcia herself. Yet, she wasn’t done. Not by a long chalk. She told Michelle to get on the table and lie down. Kneeling in front of her on the table, she entered her once more, telling the older woman to rub her own clitoris until she came. And still she wasn’t finished.

She dropped down from the table and got Michelle to lie with her head on the table, her ass on the end rail, her legs in the air, but kept together, and her hands grasping the same rail. Then she penetrated her cavernous pussy once more, driving in and out with ever increasing vigour until Michelle came with a piercing scream.

She then kissed her new lover on the mouth, took off the strap-on and told Michelle that she must be making tracks. It was well past two o’clock, and she would have to shower and change before picking up the boys from school. Michelle followed her upstairs, slipped on her gown while the younger woman got dressed and saw her to the door. Whatever this encounter had been for Marcia, the Pastor’s wife thought, it had been one hell of an initiation for her! She could hardly wait for their next meeting.