The Vicars Wife (Part 3)
I was brought up in a council house road about 200 yards from the Vicarage, another 100 yards to the church hall and about half a mile from the parish church. I did Sunday school from an early are and then progressed to being a choir boy at the church and regularly going to the Vicarage for church things such as fetes and being allowed to use the tennis courts when I was old enough and big enough to weald a racquet. It really helped in those days as there were very few tennis clubs, especially for k**s. Choir practise was held once a week during most of the school year and of course there was church every Sunday with both morning and evening services. The age of the choir boys/men/women went from about 7 years old to adults, some as old as 70 or more. Throughout my younger days it was nothing more than just a Sunday routine for most of us. I guess as boys, there were about 20 or so of us with a range of about 5 years for who I grew up with or knew from school or youth club. We used to mess about a bit and whisper and giggle during the services and would get stares from the adults and the occasional shake of the head if we went too far or even a stren talking to afterwards from the vicar.........all part of growing up. I was about 10 when the new Vicar Ben and his wife Helen took over the parish. I had just started to show an interest in the opposite sex, and although there were only a coulpe of choir girls, there were several choir ladies and now there was a new, youngish choir lady, the vicars wife. She was exceedingly pretty and demure, but shy and quiet. I always wondered how such a plain, if not ugly looking man had come by such a beauty. Several months went by and not a lot changed....other than my slow transition into puberty and adolescence. I was still doing choir, youthclub and playing tennis, all connected to the church and vicarage. Visiting there quite often I was becoming more and more obsessed, or should I say intigued and curious about Helen. She has a sereneness about her, but there also seemed something missing, almost a sadness in her demeanor where there should have been laughter.
She had kept up her steady 'wifey' duties with Ben, but only by her abilty to milk his big cock regularly, but she had also secretly been masturbating. Just using her fingers and not really enjoying her ministrations to totally satisfy herself, but enough to keep her, still to be realised, full gratification and needs at bay. Then one day, purely by accident, it happened. I had been playing tennis with my brother and stepped awkwardly and twisted my ankle. Helen was there, on her own, Ben was out visiting around the parish. Helen brought me in and my brother left me with her whilst he went home to tell Mum, but Helen said I should be OK in about half an hour and not to worry. She brought me in and sat me down on a chair and got a crepe bandage. She lifted my leg onto a stool and knelt down in frony of me. Her low cut blouse allowed me to oggle her cleavage. The inevitable happened and my 12 year old cock became embarrassingly erect and hard. Helen didn't even need to move to instantly see the effect she'd had on me, she didn't even realise that it had been the position that she was in, showing her cleavage, that had caused it. All she knew was that what was in front of her was something the exact size that she had been searching for and it was 'live and kicking'. Her initial thought was what would it feel like teasing her clit, not even giving consideration to it being inserted in her almost virginal fanny. She breathed deeply, turned bright red, began to sweat and found her hands shaking. What also happened was that suddenly, her vagina became extremely wet, she thought at first that she had wet herself, but she knew it was not urine drenching her panties, but a slightly more slimy, sticky fluid. She smelled her own aroma and recognised it as the smell her fingers gave off when she had got excited and stroked and tickled her clitoris. before she could say anything I blurted out an apology and tried to excuse myself and get up to scamper home.She held me there, still flustered, but tried to calm me down feeling embarrassed but also resposible for what had happened.
She had kept up her steady 'wifey' duties with Ben, but only by her abilty to milk his big cock regularly, but she had also secretly been masturbating. Just using her fingers and not really enjoying her ministrations to totally satisfy herself, but enough to keep her, still to be realised, full gratification and needs at bay. Then one day, purely by accident, it happened. I had been playing tennis with my brother and stepped awkwardly and twisted my ankle. Helen was there, on her own, Ben was out visiting around the parish. Helen brought me in and my brother left me with her whilst he went home to tell Mum, but Helen said I should be OK in about half an hour and not to worry. She brought me in and sat me down on a chair and got a crepe bandage. She lifted my leg onto a stool and knelt down in frony of me. Her low cut blouse allowed me to oggle her cleavage. The inevitable happened and my 12 year old cock became embarrassingly erect and hard. Helen didn't even need to move to instantly see the effect she'd had on me, she didn't even realise that it had been the position that she was in, showing her cleavage, that had caused it. All she knew was that what was in front of her was something the exact size that she had been searching for and it was 'live and kicking'. Her initial thought was what would it feel like teasing her clit, not even giving consideration to it being inserted in her almost virginal fanny. She breathed deeply, turned bright red, began to sweat and found her hands shaking. What also happened was that suddenly, her vagina became extremely wet, she thought at first that she had wet herself, but she knew it was not urine drenching her panties, but a slightly more slimy, sticky fluid. She smelled her own aroma and recognised it as the smell her fingers gave off when she had got excited and stroked and tickled her clitoris. before she could say anything I blurted out an apology and tried to excuse myself and get up to scamper home.She held me there, still flustered, but tried to calm me down feeling embarrassed but also resposible for what had happened.
1 year ago
