Chapter 3

Having recognized that all three of her bridge group members, pastors’ wives like herself were in unfulfilling marriages. After Trish McMartin and Carla Addebury unloaded on her about their husband’s infidelities, she began plotting how she could help her friends find excitement. They all liked the notoriety of being married to a pastor but found their sexual lives lacking or suspected that their husbands were being unfaithful to them, or both. After having had sex twice with Elliot Grinnell Aggie understood that this handsome and engaging man who preferred relationships such as this could be the perfect answer to fulfilling her friends’ needs. For women for whom scandal could be more devastating than for ordinary housewives Elliot’s supreme commitment to security would allay any of their fears of being discovered.

Without explaining her and Carla’s experiences with Elliot she bounced something off the girls by saying, “I think pastor’s wives across the world should unite. We should start doing some hanky-panky ourselves, he-he, that would be both fulfilling for us and get back at our recalcitrant husbands. We should create a special club, a sorority of pastors’ wives.” Trish readily agreed but Bev was shocked, while Carla’s mind, still awash in the reverie of her frolic with Elliott, was somewhere in the ether.

Having successfully put Carla together with Elliot she felt confident that Trish would topple at the mere suggestion. Bev on the other hand will be a harder nut to crack. She had concocted the encounter between Elliott and Carla by inviting them both to tea and introducing them to each other. Elliot took it from there.

Last Thursday before she left Eliot’s Aggie discovered his fetish for collecting cum-stained panties of women with whom he had sex. Rummaging through the hamper in his bathroom where he kept his collection, she discovered an old-fashioned pair of red panties which she reasoned was his deceased wife’s and put them on. Noticing a grin on Trish’s face when she mentioned forming a club she said, “How about the Red Pantie’s Club?”

Trish joined in by saying, “Maybe they should be monogrammed in glossy black thread with ‘Hanky-Panky.’”

Dumbfounded, Bev said, “I didn’t realize the rest of you were having problems at home.” She had never inkled that she too was unhappy. “Truthfully, I’ve had it up to here. But a club, we are just kidding, aren’t we?”

“Kind of, Bev, but not really,” Trish said, “Frankly, Bev I’m pissed.”

Surprised at Bev’s words of disenchantment, the first they had ever heard, Trish and Aggie glanced at each other. “I was just kidding when I said that” Bev emphasized. “But I’m getting tired of being taken advantage of and um...”

“Neglected?” Aggie queried with the quick fill-in.

“Neglected,” Bev repeated nodding vigorously. “YES, neglected. And I can’t believe how much more I’m feeling that way.”

“Speaking for myself ‘Bev I’ve felt that way for over a year,” Aggie responded. “And I’ve told Trish and Carla about it more than once.” Looking at the other two she went on. “And they’ve told me that they feel the same way. It seems that all four of us believe it.” Capturing Bev’s eyes, she continued, “We’ve just thought that you were the only one of us who might be blessed with an idyllic marriage.”

“Idyllic marriage,” Bev exploded. “I’m the good Reverend Chumley is fooling around on me.” The rims of her ears flushed. “At least he doesn’t want to have sex with me much anymore. Oh, excuse me.” She said in an apology for airing dirty linen, “I apologize. You must think I’m terrible.” Trying to shift the conversation’s emphasis from herself Bev looked at Carla and asked, “And what’s going on with her?”

Trish looked at Aggie and they both giggled, as she said, “Yeah Carla. It seems that you’re a million miles away.”

Coming out of her fog Carla said, “Hmm?”

Aggie chuckled and said to her, “They’re talking about your epiphany dear.”

“Epiphany,” Carla questioned, “what kind of epiphany are you talking about?’

Happy to concede the center of attention Bev looked at Trish ... each rolled their eyes. Aggie said, “Don’t you think you’ve been steeped in holy speak long enough to understand the meaning of epiphany?’” She cleared her thought and emphasized, “Like your visit to the Promised Land yesterday?”

It was Carla’s turn to blush. Yesterday Elliot Grinnell had indeed taken her to the Promised Land. Now she was fearful that Aggie was ready to tell the world.

“Promised Land?” the other two women asked.

On Wednesday afternoon when Elliot Grinnell pulled up in front of the Wilcox house, Carla had already been with Aggie for forty-five minutes. In her role as Pastor’s wife Aggie often had people coming to the house for meetings. So, when Elliot walked into the Wilcox residence there appeared to have been nothing unusual as far as any nosy neighbors might have been concerned. A single male, especially the same one multiple times, would have raised suspicion. It was for this reason that Elliot had developed the ruse of meeting “his ladies” at the shopping center on the edge of town than taking them home in his car with tinted windows and driving directly into the garage. But this was just a meeting, a tea party for Carla where Elliot and she could meet and become comfortable with one another.

Ever the gentleman, Elliott complimented Carla’s hair, stood up whenever she stood, and tended her chair. He commented on the stylishness of her clothes and the intelligent way in which she spoke ... told her what a cute giggle she had and how young she looked.

Carla was thrilled at being in Elliot’s presence, but Carla had misgivings that guilt might take over and cause her to bolt. When Elliot closed with, “So, Carla, I’m so thrilled to be meeting you this way. It would be nice to talk with you more intimately at my house,” Aggie knew there would be only one objection.

“I’m known by so many people in the community, Elliot,” Carla said, “What would someone who knows me think if they saw me going into your house?”

Elliot looked at Aggie and asked, “Did you have any misgivings the first time Agatha?” She answered that she did. “Do you have any now?” Smiling, she emphatically shook her head ”no”.

“Nobody will see you going into my house Carla; we’ll meet at the mall just outside of town. I will park in an inconspicuous place. You will get out of your car and into mine. Once you’re inside nobody will be able to see who you are.”

Taking her to the front window he asked, “Do you see that red Oldsmobile?” He pointed out how dark the windows were tinted. “Maybe you would like to wear a floppy hat so it would make your face hard to see.” He told her about the alley behind his house that was used only by trash and garbage trucks and how the garage opened to the alley. “You won’t get out of the car Carla until we are inside, and the garage door is closed.”

“My goodness Elliot Grinnell,” Carla exclaimed with a look of awe, “this sounds so much like a James Bond film.”

“Does that excite you, Carla?”

With pink cheeks, bright eyes and nostrils flaring she said, “Oh Elliot I just love James Bond.”

Before leaving Aggie’s house on Wednesday Elliot said, “Why don’t we have some fun tomorrow, Carla? Do you have a fancy party dress?”

Wondering what he was going to suggest she answered, “Yes.”

“I’ll wear my tux,” he murmured, “and we’ll make it a 007 costume party.”

Carla felt silly driving her car in the middle of the day in her long black gown with elegant pearls and earrings. But it was an adventure, and she was nervously excited. It worried her that Elliot might not be serious about doing it. But when he suggested it, she was so ready. It was more than liking James Bond; it was the envy of all those girls that Bond bedded so easily. She imagined how good James, with all that practice, must have been in bed. As she drove in her elegant attire the aspect of being involved in this kind of intrigue, caused her secretions to gather between her legs.

Elliot’s car was parked in an inconspicuous spot behind the buildings, just where he told her he would be. He looked so handsome getting out of his car and approaching her in his tux ... black tie and cummerbund, with a red silk pocket hankie peeking out of his pocket. Opening her car door, he took her hand and helped her out, complimenting her on how elegant she looked. As he helped her into his car and closed the door Carla was elated at what a sophisticated gentleman Elliot was. It was something she had been unaccustomed to since the early years of her marriage. If Reggie treated me like such a lady, I would not be doing any of this.

When Elliot got into the car he reached over and turned the visor down on the windshield in front of Carla’s face. “The best private eye in the world wouldn’t be able to make out your face Carla, even if he was coming straight on.”

Testing his comment, she looked under the visor and realized that anyone coming directly at them would only be able to see her chin. Elliot’s concern about her security and secrecy bolstered her confidence in the caper. When they pulled into his garage Carla’s anticipation grew more intense. When they walked into the family room, he closed the blinds. In the darkened room he picked up a butane lighter and lit candles that had been strategically placed. Picking up a remote he clicked it. Soft, slow dance music filled the room.

Overwhelmed at how he had set the romantic mood Carla watched and waited as he sauntered to her and asked, “Would you like to dance, Carla?” With glistening eyes, she smiled at his invitation, offering her hand which he took, and placed his other hand on her waist turning her in a smooth waltz.

Having never taken dancing lessons she was amazed at how effortlessly Elliot directed her and how easy he was to follow. “I’ve never been with such a marvelous dancer before, Elliot,” she said, “this is wonderful.” As they moved as

one, she commented, “You must have been professionally trained.”

With a chuckle, he answered, “My wife and I learned from a professional dancer ... took lessons for a couple of years. We loved to dance.”

His reminiscence made Carla feel sad. “I can’t imagine experiencing such a loss,” she said. At the same time, she had an eerie sensation that the spirit of Elliot’s wife was still in the house. Wondering if she should extricate herself from this illicit situation she murmured, “You must miss her very much.”

Leading the waltz Elliot looked into her eyes with a confident smile and answered, “We had a great life, Carla. And yes, it was a great adjustment for me. But I have worked out a wonderful way of living my life. I’m looking forward to your being part of it.” His fingers dented her yielding flesh as he pulled her closer, twirled her to the finish of the music, and gave her a tender kiss that increased with open mouths and tongues.

Since coming back to life after his wife’s passing Elliot’s female companionship had become more varied and more complete than anything he had ever dreamed of. The beauty of the whole thing was that each woman related to him differently. Agatha Wilcox with whom he had frolicked just a week ago was a passionate woman but under great control. She was as complete and sexual a woman as he had ever met. Carla on the other hand wore her passions like a garment. She was excitable and uncontrolled. When he kissed her, pulled her tightly against his erection, and cupped her bottom she climaxed like an ejaculating teenage boy. As she hung onto him gasping, he said, “It’s been a long time for you, hasn’t its Carla.”

Barely able to answer she panted, “Yes Elliot, it’s been too long ... thank you, thank you.” Still trembling in his arms as he kissed her again, she whimpered like a kitten. Her knees flexed like she was struggling with the need to go to the bathroom. The intrigue: the romance of the dress-up party, the candlelight, and the music were so much more than she was equipped to handle. It was the first time in two months that she had climaxed without touching herself. Carla was eager for two things: to see Elliot’s erect penis and to show her appreciation by showing him her appreciation of it.

In high school, Carla’s youth director at church seduced her into a relationship with him. In college, she had four more lovers including her husband—all divinity students. From the first time she had seen one, penises both erect and soft fascinated her. She could not help comparing each of her lovers’ endowments to the other: normal, large, small, one uncircumcised. The heads of two looked like helmets, another was a knob, and one looked like a turkey’s gizzard. To Carla, each was a work of Italian sculpture. And the feeling of their pulsating warmth and hardness in her mouth was heavenly. Each time she felt warm sperm coating her tongue and spewing on the back of her throat, she knew she had given another gift to the man she loved ... at least for the moment.

As she experienced another release Elliot held her close, nestling her head in the hollow between his shoulder and collarbone. She wondered how Elliot’s manhood would look spiking out of his black tuxedo trousers, a site she had not seen since the night of her wedding. When her fumbling hands found his growing bulk, she was amazed that it was the largest penis she had felt. And the feeling of his heartbeat in this glorious presence seemed greater than any she had experienced before. But as she stroked him, she was surprised that instead of getting hard there was a softness about it that appeared to keep it from becoming straight. Startled by Elliot’s chuckle from above her she heard him say, “Don’t worry Carla it will fit quite well. And unless you’re an unusual woman you’ll love how it feels.”

Though he could not know what was in her mind Carla was stunned that he knew she was judging him. What kind of woman must he think I am? At the same time, she had wondered how his large penis would fit inside her tight vagina. Will it slide in or bend and not go in at all? As she processed these thoughts something else came to her mind. How many women is he doing this with? She knew only of Aggie. How many? And what kind of woman am I to be involved with a man like this?

Dropping to her knees she almost yelled the answer, hungry. His pulse beat so powerfully in her hand that she was compelled to hold it against her cheek and experience it. My god, it is so warm, I can almost see his heart expanding and shrinking. Wetting her lips with her tongue she slid them over what felt like a projection of semi-hard velour. As she took her first plunge, she heard Elliot’s murmur of pleasure and felt his organ twitch in her mouth.

Once again, her excitement was so overwhelming that she could not stop her climax. Shuddering as she bobbed on his curiously arcing cock that filled her mouth in such a satisfying way, she lost control of her hands which found his cummerbund, jerked it around, unsnapped it, and dropped it on the floor.

Next, she unhooked the waist of his tuxedo trousers, found the clasps of his suspenders, and opened each one in front. As she bobbed on his cock, she realized how the downward arc of his penis was forcing his head to drag on her tongue. It was long enough that with each thrust it would flop off the back of it, hit her soft palate, and cause her gag reflex to react. She knew she had to open the suspender clasps on the back of his pants to peel his trousers down. When she did, they were blocked by his slipper-like shoes which he accommodated by raising his foot and clawing them off with the toes of his other foot.

Pulling her lips to the rim of his glans she angled her eyes downward, eyeing the authentic way Elliot had dressed—long black socks with old-fashioned black garters holding them up. Rolling her eyes upward she scanned his tux jacket, his white ruffled shirt with black studs topped with a black bowtie. His curved cock stabbed through the vent of his black silk boxers and disappeared from her view beneath her nose. Chortling at the sound her muted laugh caused Elliot to ask, “What?” Holding his cock with one hand she looked up into his eyes and asked, “Is this the way James Bond dressed?”

With a broad smile, he answered, “Well he did in Dr. No.”

Carla grinned and said, “But Honey Ryder (Ursula Andres) never saw James this way ... He either had all his clothes on or all his clothes off when he was with her.”

Looking down at Carla Elliot smiled at her upturned face which allowed him a view of her attractive décolletage. “Don’t worry Honey, when you’re riding me, I’ll be completely naked,” chortling at his pun.

Still looking up Carla took him in her mouth again which felt to her like a small girl’s, moving faster as she breathed heavily through her nose. She knew how excited Elliot was by the way he sighed and moved his hips while fucking her mouth. Whining as she skimmed her lips over his shaft and flicked the bottom of his head with her tongue, he almost lost his balance. Putting his hands on her head to steady himself he warned, “I’m going to cum, Carla.”

Ignoring him she bobbed faster, licking the underside of his penis furiously and thinking oh how I LOVE this. His hands clamped her head as he tried to warn her again, “I’m going to ... UNGH.”

Thankfully, the feeling of his first shot hitting the back of her throat made her think of a seltzer bottle spraying into a glass, she instinctively swallowed his oyster while gobbling his cock.”

Ohmigod, Carla,” he yelped as another creamy spasm hit the back of her throat, oozed over her tongue, and slid down her throat. Plunging her mouth against his slippery cock she opened her throat and let it all slide down. As one more ropey shot filled her mouth he cried, “Jesus, baby you’re good.”

Unable to steady himself Elliot took Carla down with him as she continued sucking his pulsing phallus. Lacing his fingers in her hair and cradling her against his stomach the excitement of this new man’s sex did its thing again, sending her into another shuddering spasm.

Carla’s orgasms were easily achieved. For each of her lovers, she had been the wettest, heaviest breathing, and the wildest girl they had known. When Elliot moved the panel of her panties aside and fingered her twat, he was amazed at how his hand was washed in its wetness. Upon removing her panties, he was pleased to see how neatly she had trimmed herself and how artfully her mound and lips seemed to be sculpted.

It had been months since Carla had experienced the joy of cunnilingus. Yet the picture of Elliot on his knees, partially dressed in formal attire was both humorous and arousing. The intense look on his face thrilled her. The visage of his limp penis, which glistened with the mixture of her saliva and his semen, prickled her nasty bone. Having never been eaten by a man in formal clothing before, the aspect of her bare ass and leaking pussy presented a different kind of erotic picture in her mind. As she lost sight of his head going beneath her dress the feeling of his lips working on her labia made her twitch and cry out, “Oh, Elliot.”

After tonguing her groove, her clitoris, her puckering anus, and probing her pussy Elliot was drinking her cum. Wow, he thought, this is the wettest woman I have EVER known. He was accustomed to multi-orgasmic women but found Carla “mega-orgasmic,” a term he had just coined in his mind.

She blacked out. Though it lasted only seconds, when she awoke naked in his arms, he was carrying her toward the double sliding doors to the patio. Looking back, she could see her shoes on the floor and her party dresses neatly folded on the chair. On top of her dress were her hose and bra. Elliot was naked from the waist up. He had something on his head that was covering his face; something dark brown, my PANTIES she realized... weird but so exciting.

Opening the door to the huge walled-in-patio to the pool and Jacuzzi Elliot walked to the whirlpool’s edge and stepped down to the first ledge. Looking around she could see weights and an exercise bike. He must be incredibly strong, she thought. He stepped completely into the hot water of the Jacuzzi. As he let her bottom settle on the first ledge, he turned directly in front of her. It was an eerie sight: her panties on his head, the panel covering his nose, and the only part of his face showing was his chin. He looked like a clown, naked with his face covered in a mask of brown fabric. Giggling awkwardly, she said, “I see you have a thing for my panties, Elliot.”

With an instructive, yet warm voice, he replied, “This was the best way to smell my lady’s scent while I walked with you, Carla. She could see his open mouth sucking in the fabric. “They’re still incredibly wet and I love how you taste.”

Blushing, she recalled how her husband was always impatient with her for being so wet between her legs. For the first time since she had been married, she took pride in her excessive sexual secretions. But with a genuinely apologetic reply, she said, “I’m sorry if they bother you, Elliot,”