I can’t believe what I’m doing!

I know I’ll be going to hell when I die, but I just can’t make myself care. I feel freer and more alive than I ever have. I’m tingling all over.

I’m lying nude on my side in bed with an ex-con named Wade Masterson, the strongest, most masculine man I’ve ever been close to. I have his enormous cock in my right hand, stroking it up and down. He’s telling me how he likes it done — and incredibly, I’m obeying him, shamelessly! My left hand is cupped around his powerful balls, lightly, playfully “bouncing” them up and down.

My poor husband Frank Willis, the minister of Angelfire Baptist Church who preaches about the flames of hell every Sunday, is also naked, tied to a chair facing the bed and watching us. He’s straining to get loose but Wade has him tied so tight and securely it would take him a week to free himself. His eyes are blazing with jealousy but he knows there’s nothing he can do about it.

He’s making these pathetic little whimpering noises, but strangely, his little dick is standing at attention as he watches me applying baby oil and jacking this burly, macho guy.

Even the sound of Wade’s low, resonant voice sends chills rippling through my body. He’s telling me how he wants me to work him.

“Faster . . . . yeah, that’s it faster, faster. . . Okay, now ease up. Slow down. Slower. . . Yeah. Work it nice and slow. . . Okay faster . . . Slower . . .”

And as I try to keep up with his instructions, I keep getting over-excited and losing control. I speed up when he says slow down without meaning to. Just when I settle into a nice jacking rhythm he orders me to change the pace and I can’t keep up.

And worst of all, when I screw up, Wade and I both laugh.

I know it’s so naughty and cruel to laugh and play like this with my poor husband watching, but I just can’t help it. For once in my life I feel free, and this amazing man is the one who’s liberated me.

Wade has a mean streak but instead being distasteful to me, it’s turning me on. I had no idea I was this sinful.

He’s making me do the dirtiest things. And the terrible thing is, no matter how hard I try not to, I’m loving it!

He says: “Tell your wimpy little preacher hubby how it feels to have a REAL man’s dick in your hands.”

And I blush and say, “Oh I can’t. It’s just too mean.”

And he reaches over and gives my bare ass a playful little swat and says sternly: “I said tell him!” And in spite of myself I say, “Ooh! This is the hugest, most magnificent prick in the world and I love to jack it!”

Wade laughs his dirty laugh and shifts his position to give Frank a better view.

“Tell him you’re going to suck my big dick and swallow every drop of my cum,” he says.

And again I blush. “Oh, I can’t say that!” He reaches his hand up again, but before he gives me another slap, I shout it out at the top of my lungs: “I’m going to suck this huge dick and make him shoot his entire load in my mouth.” And as I say it, I feel it free something wild in me. No matter how I try to deny it, I’m loving this!

How did this ever happen? I’ve never in my life used language like that.

This morning, I was the dutiful wife of a strict minister who believed the Bible when it said the wife should submit to her husband. Sex was a duty and I performed it faithfully when Frank wanted it.

I’ve never had a man’s penis in my mouth and the only sex I ever had was with my straight-laced husband in the missionary position.

Now, less than eight hours later, at four in the afternoon, Wade has turned me into an all-out whore who craves his cock and enjoys letting him ravage me in front of Frank.

I guess it started this morning, before the church service started. Frank was spanking me. I had forgotten to set the hymnals out in the pews the night before and Frank made me take my panties down and lie over his lap.

He had the ruler in his hand – the one he uses to smack the hands of the kids who act up in Sunday School.

He was scolding me as he punished me saying “You must learn not to displease God by neglecting your church duties.”

And I think that was when I got the first sinful idea that led to the chain of events that followed. As he administered the painful, humiliating spanking, I caught myself saying silently: “Lord, just once, will you let a big strong man come along and rescue me? Just once I’d like to see Frank go over a strong man’s lap and feel what it’s like to have his bare bottom spanked.”

Immediately, I asked the Lord to forgive my sinful thought. But it was too late. It was out there and I guess the Devil must have heard it.

Later, Frank gave his sermon as usual. But from the choir loft where I sat, I noticed something that wasn’t normal: A big strong hunk of a man in the first row who kept looking at me.

Now, I may have led a sheltered life, but I knew what was on his mind. He made no secret of it. He kept looking me up and down and smiling wickedly at me.

I looked away, but something made me keep looking back at him. He was dressed in tight-fitting jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt that did little to hide those impressive arm muscles, sitting with his legs spread, leering at me with no embarrassment at all. And (Jesus forgive me), I noticed there was a huge bulge in the front of those jeans.

What’s worse, he caught me noticing and, in a brash gesture, grabbed his crotch and “adjusted” himself.

I must have been blushing because he smiled even broader.

It was having a strange effect on me. I started feeling a dampness in my vagina – I mean “pussy.” Wade is making me use that word now and, as hard as it was to say it at first, now it feels natural and exciting – a dampness in my pussy. I never used any of these dirty words before Wade made me. Now they feel sinfully natural and freeing.

After the service, everyone started to filter out. Wade came up to Frank and me and introduced himself. Frank gave him his name and introduced me as “Mrs. Willis.”

“I just got out of prison yesterday,” Wade said, “and I haven’t got a place to stay. How about letting me sleep here in the church?”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Frank said in his stern, tight way. “We close up after Sunday services and no one is allowed in until we reopen the church office on Tuesday morning. No exceptions.”

Wade looked him up and down sort of sized him up. I could tell Frank was uncomfortable. Frank is short – about five-six – and very thin. He’s intimidating to the parishioners because he knows the Bible well and uses it to scare them off the road to hell. The congregation is afraid of him because he keeps telling them what sinners they are.

But I could see Wade had no fear that Frank could play on. He’s about six-foot-six with a strong athletic body. His arms and chest are hard and muscular from working with weights in the prison gym.

He just looked Frank in the eye and said, “Okay.” And with that he reached out and shook Frank’s hand.

Before turning to leave, he took my hand and put his left arm around me. He pulled me close, as if to give me an innocent hug. But before I knew it he drew my face in close to his and whispered, “You’re a gorgeous woman. And I know just what you need. I’m going to give you the fucking of your life and you’re never going to be the same!”

He turned to leave and I just stood there trembling. I couldn’t believe what I’d heard.

I was about to tell Frank, but something stopped me.

Amazingly, I found his words were making me hot and tingly.

When the congregation was gone and the sanctuary straightened, Frank turned off the air conditioner and we stepped outside.

To our surprise, Wade was waiting there in front. He stepped forward and grabbed us both by the hair and pulled us roughly back inside.

Frank and I struggled but it was useless. He handled us easily, holding us both firmly in his powerful hands. He led us down the aisle to the front pew and shoved us down beside each other.

Frank’s face was red and he was clearly caught off guard. He looked up into Wade’s eyes and started to protest. “What do you think you’re doing mister, I’ll have you know that –”

That’s as far as he got. Wade slapped his face, knocking him back against the back of the pew. “You shut up preacher man, I’m doing the talking.”

It was the only time I had ever seen Frank obey anyone. He was used to being the dominant one. But not now.

I blush to admit it, but it sort of excited me to see him submit to someone else’s authority. Don’t get me wrong, it was scary, but something about it was exciting too.

“Here’s how it’s going to be,” Wade said. “You say the church will be closed from now until Tuesday morning. I’m going to lock the doors and keep you two as my slaves for these next two days. You’re going to serve me and keep me entertained.” He leaned in close to Frank and said, “I’m gonna start by punishing you – first for being so inhospitable, and second for neglecting your wife. I can see this lovely woman is not getting properly fucked. I’m going to lean you over the back of this bench, pull your pants and undies down and let your charming wife here watch me smack your bare ass until it shines like a little red Christmas bulb. Then I’m going to show you how a real man pleases a woman.”

Frank was actually shaking a little as Wade’s eyes blazed deeply into his. Then Wade looked at me and his whole expression changed. He was leering at me, shamelessly, but some part of me was liking it!

“What’s your name?” he asked me. “I’m not going to call you ‘Mrs.’ Anything!”

My voice shook a little. “Th-they call me Sister Mary.” I said.

“Well I can see you’ve got a wild side, Sister Mary,” he said, in a deep, somehow reassuring voice. “And I’m going to set it free! Now get up and lock that front door.”

My heart was beating like crazy. This was so outrageously incongruous. Frank and I led a pious but boring life. Nothing exciting ever happened to us and Frank seemed to like it that way. Now all of a sudden we were being held captive by a strong, unpredictable stranger who was mentally undressing me while taking my husband well in hand.

I hurried toward the door. When I reached it, I had the chance to dash outside and run for help. I knew that’s what I should do. But some strange compulsion made me obey this masculine stranger. I put the bar in the slots and we were dead-bolted in.

When I turned around and started back down the aisle, I couldn’t believe the bizarre sight my eyes beheld. True to his word, Wade had Frank leaned over the back of front pew with his feet on tiptoes on the floor and his hands holding onto the front of the seat. He was still in his suit coat, white shirt and tie, but his pants and underpants were down around his ankles and his cute little bare bottom was thrust up. Wade was standing behind him, teasingly running his right palm over Frank’s pale, white buns.

I stopped in the aisle and gasped, “Oh my heavens!” I said, my hand flying to my mouth.

It seemed to strike Wade as a funny reaction, because he began laughing.

And here’s the incredible part: As he laughed (Lord forgive me), I started to laugh too. I knew I was being bad, but seeing my dignified husband (still in his crisp white shirt and “power” tie) in that UN-dignified position just struck me as comical. At the sound of my involuntary little giggle, Frank spun his head around and glared at me. But instead of withering me as his glares usually did, it made me laugh even harder.

“What’s so funny?!” Frank demanded.

And I tried to get serious. “Nothing darling, it’s just that. . .” But before I could get the sentence out, I was giggling again in spite of myself.

Frank took his right hand off the seat and pointed at me. “Satan will punish you for laughing at me,” he said in his most pious voice. But instead of scaring me, the sight of him pointing his powerless finger at me in that completely helpless position made me laugh even harder. “I’m sorry, dear,” I said.

He wagged his finger up and down at me and glared even harder. But before he could say anything, Wade gave him a loud, powerful whack across his up-thrust behind.

“Put that hand back down on the seat and keep it there like I told you to.”

Frank let out a yelp and obeyed. And again, Wade and I both laughed.

“Now here’s how it’s going to be,” Wade said. “I’m going to give that haughty little tail of yours twenty-five smacks with my bare hand. But if I see that hand come off the seat again, you’re going to get twenty-five more with my belt – or something else that will hurt a lot more.”

“Yes sir,” Frank said and Wade smiled at me.

“When’s the last time you heard him talk to someone with that kind of respect?” Wade asked me. I knew he was. . . how can I say this? … showing off for me. I didn’t know what to say. “Answer me,” he said setting his elbow on the small of Frank’s back and resting the side of his face in his hand. He gave me a dreamy, sexy smile and looked deep into my eyes.

“How do you like him in this position getting ready to have his ass whupped right here in front of Jesus and everyone? Kind of fun isn’t it?”

I had never seen a man hold another man – much less my authoritative husband — so completely under his control. I couldn’t believe how much it was turning me on.

But I tried not to show it.

“I. . . I don’t know. It’s. . . .” I stammered.

Wade stood up and laughed. “I bet he’s spanked your pretty bare behind a time or two hasn’t he?”

“Yes,” I blurted out, without even meaning to.

Wade smiled and took off his long-sleeve T-shirt, exposing his strong chest, flat stomach and powerful arms. “Okay,” he said to me. “Now he’s going to see how it feels to get his ass walloped.”

Involuntarily, I sucked in my breath in a gasp of excitement.

“I want you to sit here and count the smacks I give him,” Wade said. “I want you to count each one out loud until I get to twenty-five. If he can take it without taking his wimpy hands up off the front of the bench, we’ll let him off with that. If not, I’ll give him the belt – or something even better.”

I slid into the pew and sat down and as I did, I noticed a strange, unfamiliar wetness between my legs.

Wade rubbed his hands together and delivered the first hard slap. Again, Frank yipped like a little puppy and my hand flew to my mouth. “Oh my word!” I said, at once shocked and frightened by the loud smack and impressed by the power of this man’s spanking stroke.

“One…” I said.

He gave him three fast smacks one right after another “Two. Three… Four…” I called out.

And as I counted the slaps, I felt myself awash in a heady mixture of emotions. “Eleven…. Twelve….Thirteen…”

It was scary and a little disconcerting to see my husband — the source of my security – overpowered like this. But I was also enjoying it in some wicked way. I was watching the man who controlled, dominated and often disciplined me being, himself controlled, dominated and disciplined. Poor Frank was squalling away like a little baby, begging Wade for mercy, and I kept thinking about all the times he’d spanked me and made me beg him for mercy – which he never granted me. (“A husband must lay down the law unto his wife,” he would say as I pleaded for him to stop.)

Now, I was getting sweet revenge for all the times he had spanked my bottom, and there’s no denying that part of me was enjoying it.

But the most overwhelming emotion I was feeling was . . .lust! Yes. I confess. I was extremely attracted to the power this stranger was wielding.

And (I bite my tongue to admit it) I was having fun!

Seventeen. . . Eighteen. . . Nineteen. . .”

So at some point, something made me do something really devilish: I started going back on the count to keep the spanking going.

“Sixteen,” I said for the second time. “Seventeen. Seventeen. Sixteen. . .” Wade laughed and winked at me, picking up quickly on the game I was playing.

“Hey,” Frank called out. “What are you doing!? That’s twenty!”

“Shut up,” Wade said and hit him an extra-hard smack. “Let your wife do the counting. Just hold onto the seat and keep thrusting that ass up for me.”

“Fourteen.” I said. “Fifteen. Sixteen. Fourteen…”

And Wade kept raining the blows on his fanny, getting it redder and redder. Just as I was starting to take pity on Frank and began counting right (“Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. . . ”), Frank couldn’t stop himself any longer. He desperately put his right hand up to shield himself from the blows.

Wade and I looked at each other and, for the first time, I allowed myself to smile at him, conspiratorially.

“Well,” Wade said. “Looks like our little Reverend can’t follow instructions. I guess it’s time for the belt.”

“No! No!” Frank said. “I — ”

Wade Reached down between Frank’s legs and took hold of his balls. “If you say one more word I’m going to squeeze these things with all my might and believe me, I have a strong grip.”

“Oh my word!” I said, involuntarily, feeling a jolt of excitement at his audacity. Frank got very silent, very fast. But Wade didn’t seem satisfied.

“In fact,” said Wade, “I’m sick of hearing your bawling. I think we’re going to have to do something about keeping you quiet.” He smiled at me and told me to come over beside him. Then, suddenly he took me in his arms and gave me the deepest, most passionate kiss any woman could imagine. He held me close and strong and his mouth found mine hungrily. He pressed his body against me and I felt something like a can of shaving cream pressing against my vagina – my pussy! It should have been uncomfortable, but it felt amazingly good. It was big and thick and hard as a rock for me.

He drew his mouth away from mine and brought his lips to my ear. “Take off your panties and give them to me,” he whispered.

At first I was too stunned to move. But he grabbed my hair and pulled my head back roughly and firmly – not really hurting me, but making it clear that he meant business. “Do it!” he said.

And instantly I lifted the hem of my Sunday dress, slid my fingers into the waistband of my panties and removed them.

“Good girl,” he said, smiling wickedly and taking them out of my hand and feeling the crotch. “Wow,” he said. “They’re soaking wet.” He held them to his face and breathed in their essence. “Oh man, these panties have the feel and smell of a really hot pussy. You’ve been having some fun haven’t you?”

I blushed like a schoolgirl but said nothing.

“Answer me,” he said. “You’ve been enjoying this haven’t you?”

“I have to admit I have,” I said, barely audibly. I couldn’t see Frank’s face but I knew it was red with shock and jealousy – just the response Wade had wanted to provoke.

Wade walked to the front of the pew and raised Frank’s head up. “Open that crybaby mouth,” he said. And Frank obeyed him. “Wider,” Wade said, and Frank opened wider. “Okay, good,” Wade said. And he wadded the panties up and stuffed them into Frank’s mouth.

“Is there any rope around here?” Wade asked him, winking at me.

Frank made a muffled, indistinguishable noise and Wade continued teasing him. “What? What’s that? I can’t hear you. You sound like you have a pair of sopping wet panties in your mouth.”

I laughed without meaning to.

Wade repeated the question, this time addressing it to me. I could have lied but I was absolutely drunk with the devilish mischief this man was bringing out in me. “Yes sir,” I said. “We keep some in the utility room to rope the seats off when special groups attend our services.”

”Run and bring it to me along with a knife,” he said.

And I hurriedly obeyed. While I was gone, I was thinking about Wade’s amazing kiss and the feel of his penis – his cock — against me. All I could think of was how much I’d love to get a look at it.

When I got back to the sanctuary, Wade had moved my poor husband. This time, he had him leaned over the Sacred Altar!

Wade had stripped Frank’s pants and undies completely off, and wrestled his shirt, tie and jacket off as well. He was completely nude now. But he was still leaned over in the same position, his bare ass (by now very, very red) thrust up and vulnerable. My sopping wet “gag” was still in his mouth so he couldn’t say anything, but I knew this was the crowning humiliation for him. He was going to be spanked on the Holy Altar where he performed dozens of religious ceremonies every week. I knew he was never going to see that altar the same after today.

Wade took the rope and the knife and I watched, fascinated, as he expertly cut the rope into strips and hogtied Frank, binding his wrists to his feet, further hoisting up his already well-spanked posterior and providing himself better access to it.

“How’s he look?” Wade asked me.

I could only blush and look away. Wade laughed. “Come on,” he said, “What’s the first word that comes to your mind?”

I tried to stop myself, but something made me blurt it out: “Cute,” I said. “He looks cute with his little bare tail raised way up in the air for you.”

I knew it was humiliating Frank but I was beyond the point of caring. I was having fun and nothing was going to stop me.

Wade had me sit down in the front pew, just eight feet from the altar, and he removed his belt. He doubled it up and snapped it loudly a few times. Frank jumped, startled by the loudness of it.

Then the serious spanking started. He gave him several hard cracks with the belt and had me count them. I lost count a couple times (this time legitimately because I was having trouble concentrating on anything except how sexy Wade looked).

As if catching my mood, he stopped at about twelve and asked me. “Pardon me, ma’am but these pants are very confining and I want the freedom of movement to give this little wimp what he deserves. Would you mind very much if I removed them?”

My heart started beating like a jackhammer. I could only nod enthusiastically.

Wade undid his pants and slid them off, and there he stood, clad only in his tight white jockey shorts. My mouth fell open at the view!

I could see the immense imprint of his astonishing penis – his cock! To say it was huge would be an understatement. It stretched the material of his cotton drawers almost to the tearing point. And below the outline of that big dick I could see his powerful balls, tight and round.

And, speaking of tight and round, his ass looked like something from one of those Greek-god statues. Even though I was seeing it covered by the thin fabric of his underpants, I didn’t have to stretch my imagination to picture what it would look like bare and exposed.

I knew it wouldn’t be long before I would be seeing it that way.

I watched in open-mouthed awe as he swiveled those hips, getting the most out of every swat to poor Frank’s ass. Frank kept wriggling around trying to avoid the slaps but Wade wasn’t taking any pity on him.

Finally, after I had counted (however inaccurately) eighteen swats, Wade rested a minute and smiled at me.

“How am I doing?” he asked me, grinning a naughty, Johnny Depp grin.

I didn’t know what to say, but the devil put the words in my mouth: “I don’t think Frank ever put the fear of God into anyone on that altar like you’re putting it into him today.”

Instantly, I covered my mouth and giggled nervously, not believing I’d said it.

“Let me ask you something,” Wade said. “When this wimpy little coward spanks you, what does he spank you with?”

It was then that I remembered my “prayer” from earlier in the morning. I was being offered an opportunity for perfect, quid-pro-quo revenge.

“The ruler,” I said.

“Run get it,” Wade said. “And while you’re gone, I’m going to get out of these confining jockeys.”

My heart was pounding as I raced into the rectory where Frank and I slept and retrieved the ruler he had, just that morning, used on my bottom.

When I got back I almost fainted.

Frank was still tied to the altar. And there was Wade, completely nude, mounted on Frank’s back, sitting casually astride him. He had taken my panties out of Frank’s mouth and slipped in a length of the rope. He held the ends like reins in his left hand and with his right, he was playing with his gigantic dick, slowly stroking it. It was standing way, way up at attention and he stroked it slowly and masterfully. The effect was one of a cowboy nonchalantly masturbating as he rode bareback on his horse out in the great outdoors.

My knees suddenly felt like rubber and I thought I was going to pass out from the intensity of the rush of excitement that thundered through me.

I half sat, half collapsed on the front pew and watched as he continued stroking himself. I could see the clear wetness of precum glistening on the tip of his cock.

“How do I look riding the range?” he asked me playfully.

I fought to catch my breath. “Looks like you’re going to bust my bronco for me,” I said. “Do you think you can tame him?” I have no idea where that came from. But hearing myself say it made me feel a dirty tingle in my body and made us both laugh. It was pretty clear that the “bronco” had already been “busted.” But Wade caught the spirit immediately.

“Hand me that ruler.”

I gave it to him and watched as he pretended to “spur” Frank and bounced up and down on his back, all the while, slapping his ass with the ruler the way a rider would use a riding crop on a wild horse.

And the crazy – let’s face it, funny — thing about it was that as he smacked away on Frank’s ass, Frank really did seem to “buck” in an effort to get away.

Finally though, he stopped struggling and Wade playfully tipped an imaginary cowboy hat to me and “dismounted.”

He cut Frank loose and took the “reins” out of his mouth. He grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face roughly close to his own. “Okay preacher man. That should teach you not to disobey me. But remember there’s plenty more red-ass where that came from. Are you going to behave and serve me without giving me any backtalk?”

“Yes Sir,” Frank said. I couldn’t believe how completely he had been conquered and subjugated.

“Well that’s good,” Wade said. “Because I’m going to give your wife the fucking of her life and you’re going to help me prepare her for it. Now lay down here on the floor on your back.”

Frank quickly obeyed, slightly favoring his sore derriere.

Then Wade turned to me.

“Give me your hand,” he said. And he reached out and guided my hand to his huge hard tool. “Take it in your hand,” he commanded me.

I could barely get my hand around it but I managed to do it and it felt great.

“As you can see, I’m considerably bigger than what you’re used to.” He flipped his head derisively in the direction of Frank’s little penis which was surprisingly hard but just about the size of Wade’s thumb. “So you’re going to have to be good and lubed up to take me all the way into that sweet delicious snatch of yours. So I want you to sit on this boy’s face and let him get you completely greased up with his tongue.”

“What?!” Frank and I said at the same time.

“You heard me,” Wade said. “You’re going to ride his face.

“And by the way,” he said to Frank, “I may want to go in her ‘back door’ too. So I want you to lick her from the top of her cunt all the way to the top of the back of her ass. I want you to get her pussy and her ass completely juicy. Spend some good generous time on her clit. Or you’re going over my lap and get another good ol’ spanking.”

I was shell shocked. I had never had a man give me oral sex. I had always been told it was sinful and Frank cited biblical passages that backed it up. But before I knew it, Wade had positioned me over Frank’s face with my knees on either side of his head. Then he eased me down and I felt, for the first time, the heaven of a man’s tongue working on my clit and into my pussy and even “French kissing” my ass.

While Frank worked away on me, I threw my head back and closed my eyes and went into something like a trance.

Wade grabbed hold of Frank’s balls and told me: “Just let me know if he gets lazy and lets up.” And then to Frank: “If I she tells me you’re easing up. I’m going to squeeze these babies until you get right back on her case. You got that?”

“Mmphh, Mummphh” Frank said.

 

 



EVITA PERONI

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