The Parson’s Wife

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


When our church hired the new Pastor, we were invited to a reception in his honor and that of his wife. For reasons that shall be pretty obvious, I’ve changed everybody’s names and other things that could identify them. Even though all that occurred was among people who consented most willingly, there are some who might look askance upon us. Please note that everybody was at least eighteen years of age!

I was a senior in high school when they arrived and a member of the Choir and of the Junior Guild at the Church. I was one of the “good girls” who was quite active in youth events planning and organization. The old Pastor was grateful for my help as he had a lot on his plate managing a rather large congregation and all of the internal politics. For me, I was happy to be a leader and to help as much as I could.

Pastor Jerry and Amy met us in the Social Hall and totally charmed us. He is a gentle, handsome man with a soothing voice and a quick laugh. I thought he was handsome in a homely way, if that makes any sense. He wasn’t pretty as a movie star or anything. His nose was large and a bit off-center, he had an angular face and thick eyebrows that tended to the “unibrow” look, but his personality shone brightly. You just didn’t see the imperfections and ended up concentrating on his eyes. He had lovely, soft hazel eyes that could just draw you in.

Amy was simply beautiful. She had a gentle smile, pretty blue eyes, blonde hair she wore in a pony tail, and she dressed very modestly. I never saw her in a skirt above her knees. She always wore hosiery, her jewelry was very plain, usually a simple wedding band on her left hand and a simple gold chain with a crucifix around her neck. Her wrist watch was an inexpensive model, chosen for function, not for embellishment. To put it simply, she had the bearing of a dignified lady. I thought she was the epitome of what I wanted to become, a godly woman.

Pastor Jerry made it clear she was going to work with the Ladies’ Auxiliary and with the Youth groups. I was delighted, because I was drawn to her strongly. At our first meeting, she shook my hand warmly, smiling broadly as she looked me directly in my eyes. I thought she was going to be the perfect leader for us. I hoped to learn a lot from her.

It wasn’t too long before she formed a committee of the oldest girls in the congregation to meet with her and to decide on various activities. We met after school for an hour on a weekly basis. The membership of her committee changed with time, some girls dropping out and others recruited to take their place. We formed a little clique and all became quite fond of Amy. She was fun to be with and she had a wonderful sense of humor.

I ended up taking charge of the youngest girls, aged 4 to 10. At Amy’s suggestion, I organized them in groups of 4-5 girls each, under the leadership of the 9 and 10-year olds. I simply had to keep track of them. I had no more than six or seven girls I had to direct, so it wasn’t terribly difficult. The way Amy had it organized, we’d give out assignments to the older girls who would supervise the youngsters and I would get some private time with Amy, usually an hour or two, in which she would talk to me about life, boys, fashion, drugs, booze, and other things teens get into. She became pretty much my older sister and confidant.

As time went on, Amy would invite me for lunch on a Saturday or even shopping. She often bought me a coffee and I found myself telling her everything about me and my life. In fact, I found myself telling her things I didn’t even realize about myself until I said them out loud. I always felt better afterwards. It was really therapeutic.

I began to look forward to my time with Amy even more than with my boyfriend. He was a very nice boy, but he wanted more from me than I was ready to give up. I was a pretty naive eighteen year old. I’d only let my boyfriend kiss me and touch my breasts. Never under my top or inside my bra. I’d confessed this to Amy and she asked if I wanted to go further with a boy.

I knew girls who had been having sex with boys for years at that time, but I was still decidedly a virgin. My mother was happy I’d resisted temptation, but to be honest, more intimate contact just wasn’t that tempting to me. I suppose in another context, I’d have become a nun, but that wasn’t part of our faith. I’d learned to masturbate and actually enjoyed that. Amy told me that it was a gift from the Lord and it was no sin to enjoy it, as long as it wasn’t to excess. She explained that our bodies were made in the image of the Lord and that such pleasure was divinely given.

My mother never discussed such things with me and I was not tempted to include her in those discussions. When I began to have my periods, she handed me a package of tampons and explained how to use them and when to change them to avoid a bad illness, but that was all she said and the topic was off the table after that.

I attended a private high school to which we wore a pretty florya escort typical uniform, a white blouse with a Peter Pan collar, a neck tie tab, a plaid pleated skirt, a Navy blue blazer with the school crest on the pocket, knee socks and black maryjanes. There was never any problem choosing what to wear to school, but it left very little choice, other than small items of jewelry and outerwear. We did have the option of wearing light gray slacks instead of the skirt on colder days. Seniors also had the option of wearing pantyhose or tights instead of the socks, too.

My mother bought me tights to wear on cold days, but refused to get me anything more sheer than that. I wanted to wear hosiery as I felt I was becoming a grown-up woman. I was also heckled by some of the girls for what I wore in school. In retrospect, they had little else to pick on another girl for, so that became the point of discussion. I tried explaining that to my mom, but she had no interest in that particular problem. Sturdy knee socks were cheaper than pantyhose that developed runs pretty regularly, so knee socks were what I wore.

At least I wore them until I complained about it to Amy in one of our discussions. Hers was the sympathetic ear I needed and she had a solution. She offered me a job for a real hourly wage so I could afford to buy my own hosiery. I become one of the janitors at the church, working ten hours per week at the minimum wage. After taxes and such, I had enough left over to buy an occasional pair of pantyhose and even to buy a treat for myself now and then. Mom knew what I was doing and never complained about it. She understood that I’d taken one of the first steps to becoming a responsible adult and thanked Amy profusely for hiring me.

The day I got my first paycheck, Amy offered to take me shopping and to help me find the best deals in hosiery. I was totally flattered she’d do that for me, so we went to the mall and set out to shop. I looked longingly at Vickie’s store, but she steered me toward the large anchor department store where we looked over the selection.

The cupboard was pretty bare, I’m afraid. I found some in my size in taupe and navy, but the latter were control top and I just didn’t need those. I had a good slim figure and kept in shape with regular workouts and sports. I picked out the last two pair of taupe stockings in my size and took them to the clerk to pay for them. It was there I discovered they wouldn’t take my paycheck and I just didn’t have the cash. Amy came to my rescue, having me endorse the check over to her and returning cash I could spend. I was so embarrassed, but she was very cool about it.

“It’s no problem, Barbie. Next payday, we’ll go to the bank and get an account set up for you so you can spend your money, okay?”

“Amy, you’re the best. Thank you so much!” I hugged her and she held me closely. I realized I could feel her lovely breasts against my own. For some reason I didn’t understand at the time, it felt just wonderful. I’d hugged lots of other girls, but I never had such a reaction before.

Amy smiled sweetly at me. “My friend, come with me. I’ll show you how to put them on so you can get more than one day’s wear out of them.”

I let her guide me to the dressing room. She closed the door and told me to take off my shoes and knee socks while she opened a package of pantyhose for me. Once I had my socks off, she examined my feet and toes. “Dearest, you need a good pedicure. Rough nails are the death of good hosiery. Here, I can help that for now. Don’t you have a girlfriend over for sleepovers and such? When I was your age, we learned a lot about makeup, nails, and hair at our sleepovers.”

I tried to explain my mom to her, but she just held up her hand and smiled at me. “Barbie, would your mother object to you staying over at our house with me? Your girl education has been sadly neglected.”

I reddened. “I… I don’t know. She’s never let me do anything like that. I could ask her, I guess.”

She put her hand on my arm gently. “I’ll ask her if you can come over for a senior girl retreat chaperoned by me. I’ll set her mind at ease and my husband won’t mind having another girl in the house at all. Okay?”

That seemed to calm my apprehension. “Yeah, that would be nice and I think she’ll let me do that. She likes you a lot.”

Amy kept her hand on my arm and looked at me. “I like her, too. I know she’s been looking out for you. She wants only the best for you.”

She directed her attention to my legs. “You know, you have nice legs. You’re going to look really pretty in hosiery.”

She touched my legs below my knees. “Oh, dear, you need a shave. Does she let you shave your legs?”

I blushed again. “Ummm, I borrow her razor and shave cream some times. I don”t think she notices.”

Amy said, “Hmmmph. You’re a woman now and you need your own razor and oil and cream and such. Never share anybody’s razor. It’s a bad habit and it cihangir escort could lead to bad diseases, too. You just never know what somebody else may have to pass along.”

She ran her hand along the inside of my leg to my knee and just under my skirt to my thigh. She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Barbie, don’t put these on until we have our sleepover. What are you doing Friday night?”

“Well, I have a big test in Geography and a quiz in math to study for…”

She chuckled at me and I continued to blush. “Jerry is going to meet the church Board on Friday, so I’m at loose ends. Come to my house after school and have supper with us and then we girls will do girly things while my husband wrestles with some angels, okay?”

I was distracted. I could still feel her hand on my leg and I realized I was rather turned on. It was totally innocent, I was sure, but I’d have never had that reaction to any guy who tried to feel me up. I was distracted and bemused.

“Earth to Barbie, come in. Is that okay with you? We’ll have a good time and lots of girl talk and I’ll show you how to get a good smooth shave without cutting yourself to ribbons.”

I nodded and smiled back at her. “Yes, thanks Amy. I’d like that.”

She packed up my new hose and put them into my school bag as I put my knee socks and shoes back on. I got the impression she got a peek up my skirt and liked what she saw, though I usually wear pretty plain underwear to school.

We did a little window shopping before she led me to her car to give me a ride home. When we pulled up to my house, she gave me another hug and a quick kiss on my cheek. “Friday after school, okay?”

I was still red-faced, but I said, “Yes, Amy, and thanks!”

“It’s okay, Barbie. We’ll have fun, I promise!”

That night after I brushed my teeth and brushed out my hair and said my prayers, I went to bed and I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind that Amy, my idol and the woman I wanted most to be, touched me and I loved it. Now, that confused me. I’m a good girl and getting turned on by a girl wasn’t in the cards. I was going to stay a virgin until I met the man I’d fall in love with and have babies and be as righteous as I could.

I just couldn’t get over the fact she’d touched me under my skirt and my panties were soaked and they smelled musky and sexy. I touched my breasts and felt my nipples were hard. My little kitty was still wet and she felt so nice when I touched her, too. I couldn’t resist the temptation to masturbate. I spent over an hour caressing myself, fingering myself, and twiddling my little clit. The images that inspired me were those of Amy. My beautiful Amy.

I took care of my usual routine, getting my studying in for all of my tests and taking care of my responsibilities at the Church. I saw Amy there and Jerry, too. They were both cordial, but not unusually friendly. No touching or anything was done there, not so much as a wink and a nod, but I could feel the tension between me and Amy. Oddly, I was even a little jealous when I saw her kissing her husband and him hugging her. I had no cause to be jealous and that was surely a sin. Or was that envy? I wasn’t sure of what the difference was, but I was sure I shouldn’t feel that way.

By the time Friday rolled around, Mom had given me permission to camp out at Amy and Jerry’s house and helped me pack for the weekend. She didn’t comment on the pair of pantyhose I put in my bag, though she noticed I’d packed it.

I was nervous, but eager to learn what Amy wanted to teach me. To tell the truth, I’d packed extra panties and wished I had something nicer to wear than my old full-coverage cotton undies.

Mom dropped me off at their house and I kissed her good night. Amy answered the door and told me to drop my things in the entryway. We’d get them later.

I enjoyed a lovely dinner with them of fried chicken, corn, mashed potatoes, and a cherry pie for dessert. As promised, Jerry packed up his brief case and told us to have fun. I helped Amy clean up after dinner, doing dishes and putting leftovers away.

When we were done, she smiled and offered her hand to lead me to the guest room. The parsonage house was designed to allow visiting clergy stay with the Parson in residence, so the guest room had a full bathroom, complete with a tub. We dropped my things next to the bed and Amy gave me a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Barbie, we’re going to have fun tonight. I have a couple of movies, popcorn, a fruit tray, wine coolers, and maybe other treats. I think the first thing should be getting you all girly. Ready to learn how to shave your legs and pits?”

I reddened but smiled at her. “Yes, please, Amy. I’ve been looking forward to my first ever sleepover all week.”

She gave me another squeeze. “Good girl! I’m in need of a shave, too. I usually do it once a week, generally on the weekend so I’m nice and smooth for my husband. He loves me smooth like mecidiyeköy escort that. Just do as I do and you’ll be okay.”

She started to fill the tub with hot water. “The key is softening up the hair and then using a good quality oil to make the razor go easily over your legs. It’s also important to have a really sharp, new razor blade. I’ll tell you a secret. I buy my blades the same place my husband does, that shaving club. I’ll give you the website. The blades are great quality and cheaper than what you pay at the market.”

As the tub filled, she began to take her clothes off. She asked me to unzip her dress and she hung it on a hanger in the closet. Totally unselfconsciously, she took off her pumps and then her half slip. I could see through her sheer pantyhose she had panties on that matched her pretty, lacy bra.

She looked at me. “Honey, you have to undress for this, unless you’re wearing your uniform into the bathtub.”

I was very embarrassed, but I took off my blazer, hung it up and then began to unbutton my blouse.

Amy smiled so gently at me. “Dear Barbie, we’re all girls here. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re a very pretty girl. Do you want me to help?”

I wasn’t sure what to do. Amy saw my quandary. She came over to me, still dressed in her hosiery and bra and panties. Reaching for my blouse, she looked into my eyes. “May I?”

I nodded shyly and held my arms out to let her undo my blouse and pull it out of my skirt. Next, she reached for the buckles and opened my kilt, laying it aside on a chair in the room. She was totally matter-of-fact about it and I took heart. I had my maryjanes, knee socks, bra and panties on. She smiled at me gently and slowly pulled my shoes off, setting them aside. My knee socks came off next and then she peeled her pantyhose down carefully, avoiding anything that could run them.

She looked at me and I reached behind my back, unclipping my bra and letting it fall forward onto my arms. I held it there for a half moment, but when I saw her unclip hers, I did the bravest thing I’ve ever done to that point. I hung my bra in the closet next to my blouse. She smiled in encouragement and slowly pulled her panties, pretty bikini style, down her hips to her thighs and then off, one leg at a time.

She stood patiently waiting for me and I took a deep breath and pulled mine off, too. She looked at me approvingly. “You’re a very pretty girl, Barbie. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

I watched as she got into the tub and waited for me to join her. I took another deep breath and got into the other side of the tub, my back to the porcelain and my feet up next to her hip.

She was lying back, eyes closed, just taking deep breaths. I tried to copy her, but it was harder to relax.

“I think a soak in a hot tub is a little slice of heaven, don’t you? Do you still do bubble baths? I do and I love them.”

I smiled. “Yeah, I’d never admit it to the other girls, but I do whenever I can.”

She grinned. “That’s one of the basic necessities of life, I believe. Never give up relaxing bubble baths, Barbie. It’s one of the fundamental privileges of being a girl.”

“Oh, yeah.”

We just sat there and soaked for about ten minutes before she grasped my right ankle and lifted my foot out of the water onto a dry towel. She dried my foot and took a nail clipper and trimmed my nails. She felt the bottom of my foot and tsk’d. A foot file and a pumice stone smoothed the skin and then a nail file rounded my nails perfectly. She did the same with the other one, finally dropping them into the water.

“Can I do that for you, too?”

“I’d love that, Barbie. It’s hard to do it for yourself, isn’t it?”

She taught me how to file her feet and nails, too. They didn’t need much. She told me she keeps them well groomed.

Next, she had me sit on the edge of the tub, my right foot on the edge, flexing my knee and hip. She got a bottle of oil and poured some onto her hand and then massaged it into my skin. Shaving cream completed the treatment.

“You have to use good oil and lots of it. Now, take the razor. Don’t worry, this is for your very own, a gift from me. The hair usually grows toward the foot, so you should begin with light strokes from the top down. Short strokes are fine. Just rinse off the razor in the tub. Don’t press it onto your skin too firmly, that’s how you get cuts, dear.”

I tried to do as she said, but I nicked myself.

“It’s okay, dear, we all cut ourselves. I have some styptic for that.” She applied a white stick that stung for a moment but stopped the bleeding.

I followed her instructions, watching how she did it. It was harder for her to get my armpits smooth, but she was very encouraging about it and she managed to patch me up pretty well.

I’d noticed she was shaven around her kitty. “What about there?”

“Well, I do it because Jerry likes it that way, but it’s up to you. We should have trimmed you before your bath. Maybe another time? It’s not easy to shave yourself down there, but I do love the feeling under my silky lingerie.”

“Okay, but I think it looks neat and easy to keep up. Less messy on my period, I’ll bet.”

She chuckled. “Yes, that’s for sure. That’s part of what I like about it.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32