0 comments/ 79090 views/ 4 favorites Nancy's Story By: Starlight Meet Nancy Let us say my name is Nancy. It is not my real name as I wish this story to be anonymous for reasons that will become obvious. I was the wife of a minister of religion, Michael, and I had been married to him for six years when the events I am about to relate began. I was a virgin bride, which, although unusual by today's standards, was I suppose proper for a clergyman's wife. Michael and I had "played around" during the two years of our engagement. He would use his fingers on my vagina and occasionally was able to give me an orgasm. I in turn would rub his penis until he discharged his sperm. Never did we attempt penetration of my vagina. The early part of our marriage held promise of passion, but after about eighteen months, Michael gradually lost interest. From about three or four times a week sexual intercourse became once a week, then slowly fell away to about once a month, if that. Michael was appointed as Vicar of a large country town. As time went on he was more and more involved with meetings, committees, and often had to attend seminars, synods, and conferences, some of which took him away from home for a week or more. He was also very popular in the parish, exercising compassionate pastoral care, fine preaching, and always alive with new ideas. In short, Michael was a well thought of man. I assumed that all this activity on Michael's part had something to do with the collapse of our sex life. I was twenty-seven at the time of the first "event," and still extremely virile sexually. To try to relieve the sexual tensions I experienced I had to masturbate frequently – an activity no doubt frowned upon by the Church. My days were taken up with organising fetes, bazaars, bring-and-buy stalls, Sunday School and similar non-exciting activities. I loved Michael, but as I saw the years stretching before me, I had a feeling of dread. Was this to be my life? Forever organising these activities and left day after day without fulfillment of my sexual needs? It Begins Our house was set alongside the church. It was spacious, with a large garden. Michael had little time for gardening and it was too large for me to handle on my own. To overcome this we employed a young fellow whom started helping out when he was about fourteen. We paid him for his work, which I suppose added to his pocket money. His name was David and he mowed the lawns, weeded and did other odd gardening jobs. I would often be working in the garden at the time he was working. He was a nice boy, polite and a little shy. He would rarely speak unless spoken to. He was nice looking with a sunbeam smile and light brown hair cut in a somewhat conservative style. When he finished his work, I would often invite him in for a drink. I would try to overcome his reticence with the usual adult ploys of, "How's school," "How are your parents," and so on. He would answer the questions, but no more. He would simply sit and watch me at whatever I happened to be doing, and when he had finished his drink, bid me goodbye and depart. Time passed and David had been helping out for four years. He had taken over more and more of the garden, and we found we could leave him without supervision to get on with it. Then one rather hot day David had finished his jobs and, as usual, I asked him to come in for a drink. We sat at the kitchen table with our drinks, and I tried to make conversation. This time I came up with a question I had never asked before – "Do you have a girlfriend?" He tensed for a moment, then looked away and said "No." I thought it odd that such a nice looking boy should not have a girlfriend, so I pursued the matter. "Don't you like girls?" Still not looking at me he said, "I suppose they're all right." "That's not very flattering to me," I chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude," he mumbled. Still thoughtlessly pursuing the matter I went on, "Wouldn't you like a girlfriend?" It was then that I noticed something that distressed me. There were tears in David's eyes. Embarrassed I asked if I said something to upset him. He said I hadn't, but there were still the tears. "What is it, David?" I asked. He sat staring into space for about two minutes, then said, "It's silly really, and I don't think you'd be interested." I assured him that I would be interested if he cared to tell me what was distressing him. "After all," I said, "What are friends for if not to listen to each other's problems, and help if they can. So if you want to, tell me." Again, he paused, making up his mind whether to say anything or not. Then as if something had been released inside him, speaking rapidly he said, "I don't have a girlfriend because girls don't like me." My protest broke out before I could stop it: "That's ridiculous. A nice looking boy like you…" I stopped and looked at him. When you have known someone for several years and see them regularly, you hardly notice the changes that have taken place in them. I suppose I still had the picture of David when he first came to us as a boy, in my head. Now, as I looked at him, I saw the truth of my words. He was all of six foot and probably still a little growing to do. The promise of good looks was being fulfilled. There was none of the pimples and pockmarks suffered by so many in youth, and he was well muscled for his age. Every girl in the town should have been pursuing him. He looked at me and murmured, I don't think it's got anything to do with looks, good or otherwise." Quite a long speech for David! I felt myself impelled to ask, "What has it got to do with, David?" In the same low voice he responded, "It's just me. I think I'm different somehow." "How different?" "I like different things." "Tell me." "Well," he began hesitantly, "I don't like the same music they like, I don't care for their dances and I don't like the dirty conversation and swearing a lot of the girls use now. They seem grotty and slutty somehow. They seem ready to have sex with anyone – they don't care – they don't have any self-respect." "But they can't all be like that," I protested. "The ones I meet around here seem to be," he replied. I was at a loss for a moment. I was very aware of how young and not so young people, behaved sexually these days, but here was a young man looking for something different. I thought I might get him to open further so I asked, "What sort of music do you like?" "I suppose you'd call it 'classical,'" he said. I could see the problem. The town in which we lived did not seem to possess a very large population of classical music lovers. "They make fun of me about it, and the fact that I love art and drama," he went on. Yes, it could be very lonely for him I could see that. He now began to talk as he never had before, explaining how much he wanted to share his interests with someone, male or female. How sharing them added to the pleasure. All this I understood. At one time, Michael and I shared these things, but now Michael was always too busy. The women I met through my activities were more concerned to talk about the latest sit-com on television than anything else. I could sympathise with David in his cultural dilemma. I said to him, "I love classical music as well." "Yes, I know," he said, "I've heard you playing some of your CD's when I've been working in the garden." I told him of my wish to share this with someone, and how difficult it was in our town. I then said carefully, "Do you think you could share with an old lady like me?" "Your not really old," he said, and smiled for the first time. "Not more than thirty," he added. Not very flattering since I was only twenty-seven, but I let it pass, returning his smile. So, it was agreed. Next day David would bring one of his CD's to play, and I would choose one of mine, and we would make an afternoon of it. It was Saturday and Michael was away on one of his interminable seminars, so there was no one to disturb in the house. A New Factor Arises As arranged, David arrived promptly at 1 p.m. with his CD. We went into the lounge and began with his music. It was Shostokovitch's 8th Symphony. A bit too ferocious and noisy for my taste, but we sat on the sofa together speaking little except to comment occasionally and briefly on particular passages. When the symphony came to an end, I ascertained that David's liked an occasional glass of wine, so we sat for a while sipping white wine. I then played my CD that was a Bach concerto. This time there were no comments. David sat in wrapped silence. When the work finished David let out a long sigh and said, "That was beautiful." He then added in a low whisper that seemed almost forced from him, "Like you." I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear that remark, and in anycase, I was too startled to respond. Michael, during our courting days, had paid me all sorts of compliments, but never had he called me beautiful. And now here was an eighteen-year old boy – young man – paying me the compliment many women long to hear. So ignoring the remark, I invited David to have another glass of wine. He assented, and in the now growing darkness of evening, we sat chatting about the music we had heard and about other pieces we might share in the future. David had now loosened up considerably – perhaps it was the wine or maybe a growing confidence in my company. I decided to extend our time together, and asked if he would like to stay to dinner. He accepted with gratitude, as his parents were away for the weekend, and he would have to prepare his own meal if he went home. I put together a meal of sliced ham and salad and opened a bottle of red wine. Perhaps the red wine was a mistake. As the meal progressed David got increasingly voluble, talking about the music and paintings he admired, and how he used the money he earned doing our gardening to buy CD's and books. His manner was such as to make me feel that what he was saying was a cover-up for something else he wanted to say. Finally, after about his third glass of wine, out it came. His precise words now escape me, but it poured out something like this, "There's something I want to say to you – I know you'll hate me and never want to see me again – but I've got to say it. If ever I have a girl friend, I want her to be like you. Ever since I started to do your gardening, I've lo…admired you…I've wanted to …be near you. I've…You're lovely…so beautiful and kind, and…" He stammered to a stop. I was dumfounded. What I had just heard was a declaration of love. It couldn't be interpreted any other way. But what sort of love? A boy's or a man's? David rose from the table and muttered, "I'd better go." He started to leave, but my female ego made me stop him. "No don't go yet," I cried. "Let's talk about this. We can go back to the lounge and be comfortable." He hesitated, then agreed. This time I didn't sit beside him on the sofa, but sat opposite observing him. He looked crushed and ashamed, and said, "I suppose you must loathe me." "Not at all," I said gently, "To hear those lovely things said about me is very flattering. I have no reason to loathe you, on the contrary. To have a man many years younger than I say he finds me beautiful is very complimentary. "But… you're… the Vicar's wife," he stammered. "I'm afraid that doesn't make me any the less susceptible to compliments, David," I replied, "I hope that won't make you think any less of me." "Never," he whispered, looking at me with such deep longing I felt my heart go out to him. I am not naïve. I understand the powerful emotions that young men must deal with. As David gazed at me, I saw that it was not a boy's love that I had to deal with, but a young man longing – lusting – for me. I could see the swelling in his jeans and knew what that meant. This was the moment I should have said goodbye to him. I didn't. I sat there trying to come to terms with my own emotions. At the sight of his growing erection, I found my panties starting to get wet. I am afraid that I am the sort of person who likes the cards face up on the table. I don't like those situations where people are saying one thing and meaning another. I decided we should be clear what we were talking about. "David," I said, "let's be completely honest with each other. I gather from what you said, and from what I can now see, that you want me sexually. We may never have this moment of openness again, so I will put it to you clearly. Do you want me?" David was stunned. He had not expected such a blunt confrontation and probably was not sure if I was about to berate him. He started to shake with emotion. I repeated my question; "Do you want me now? You have only to answer yes or no." I decided to reassure him, to give him the chance to answer with truth about his desire and feelings. "Whatever your answer, I shall not loathe, reject or hate you." "It would be adultery," he muttered. "David, I know what it would be if we had sex, but at least answer my question." He hesitated for another moment, then blurted out, "Yes, I want you." "Can you stay with me for the rest of the evening?" I asked quietly. "I have to feed the dog." "Then go home and feed the dog. You can take the time to decide whether you will come back or not, and I can decide what is going to happen if you do. I shall wait for you. The Event. I had spoken out clearly – almost callously – but I have always needed to have the truth of things out in the open. Now I waited, wondering if David would return. If he did, from my point of view the die was cast. Despite that certainty, my emotions were in turmoil. There had only been one other sexual partner in my life, and he had lost interest. The thought of a second partner presented me with a challenge that I was not sure I could handle properly. If it had been a man with sexual experience it would not be so daunting, but I was almost certain David was a virgin, and I had to make his first experience a lovely one – one he would always treasure. Perhaps it should be with a girl of his own age, but it was me he wanted now, and I had to admit to myself that I wanted him. I took a shower and put on a rather flimsy wrap. I waited half an hour – three quarters of an hour – his house was no more than ten minutes away from ours. Why was he so long? My frustration increased. I wanted him so badly by now, why did he not come to me? An hour passed, and my frustration began to turn to anger. He would not come. What an idiot I had made of myself, offering sex to an eighteen-year-old boy. I waited another fifteen minutes, and decided that he was not going to turn up. I went to the bedroom and was about to climb into bed to masturbate, when the doorbell rang. I raced to the door. David was there. He stood for a moment looking at me. My breasts were prominent in my garment and my nipples stood out through the material. Suddenly he groaned and pressed himself to me. Closing the door, I led him gently into the lounge. "Sorry I was so long," he said, but I had to feed the dog, and then I took a shower. I also had to think." "And you've decided?" I asked. "Yes." "So have I. Come with me." I led him into the bedroom. I began to undo the belt on his jeans. He backed off from me. "I've never… I don't know what…" "It's all right," I murmured, "Don't try to do anything this time. Leave it all to me." He relaxed and I finished taking off his jeans and shirt. I could see there would be no need for foreplay. He had a full erection. His penis was perhaps slightly bigger than Michael's. Only about half an inch longer, but considerably thicker. The head was wet with precum. I took off my nightie and stood naked in front of him. I saw his eyes take me in, roaming over my breasts and the little v of pubic hair. "You're so…so…so lovely," he moaned. "All the times I've imagined you naked it was never as exquisite as you really are." I pressed him to me. I was only a couple of inches shorter than David and his penis pressed against my lower abdomen. By now, my female fluids were starting to run down my thighs. I knew that David, especially it being his first time with a woman, would be unable to hold back for long in ejaculating. That sort of restraint has to be learned over time. So rather than have him ejaculate before he had even penetrated me, I led him over to the bed and carefully got him to lie down. I lay beside him and said quietly, "Don't try to do anything, darling, leave it to me. Just lay on your back and relax if you can." I moved over and sat astride him nuzzling the tip of his penis against the lips of my vagina. He groaned as I did this. Now I had to be careful. Never having had a baby, and only ever having had Michael's smaller penis in me, I was still tight. I was well lubricated, but wondered if I would have much pain taking David's larger organ into me. I spread my legs as wide as possible in that position, put my hand down and guided David's penis into me. I took it very slowly, letting my vagina get used to the extra size. There was no pain. I lowered myself onto him until I had the full length inside me. All the time David looked at me entering him and gave little cries of ecstasy – "Ohh…so wonderful…I never thought it…ohh." I began to move up and down on him, gradually increasing the pace. As I thought he would, he came quickly. Suddenly he grasped my hips and dragged me down onto him, trying to force his length deeper into me. This I knew was the first thrust of his orgasm. I felt the first spurt of his sperm pump into me and he released my hips. I matched my movement to his spurting, thrusting down with every new convulsion. He cried out as he came; "O God…Oh God…so long…I…" I thought he would never stop flooding into me. He released into me the pent up frustration of a young man, now at last with the woman he had fantasised about for so long, and finding it more wonderful than he had ever imagined. At last, with a final cry of "Ahh, " this riot of passion ceased. I sat across him with his penis still inside me. I had not cum myself and hadn't expected to. My focus had been entirely on making sure David had the best possible first time sexual experience. I sat with him inside me for some time, waiting until he grew slack before withdrawing. As I did so, he gave a moan. We lay side by side for about half an hour. Then David moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "I suppose I'd better go," he muttered. Without hesitating, I spoke out my inner desire. "Stay the night with me, darling." He turned and looked at me. "You really mean that?" "Of course I do." Without another word, he returned to my side, snuggling against me with his lips close to my breasts. He spoke quietly with great depth of feeling in his voice. "Whenever I've masturbated it has always been you I've pictured. As I shot, it has been you I was doing it with. But it's been far more wonderful than I would ever have imagined. I don't think I could ever get enough of you." Only ever having been with Michael before, I was used to him rolling off me and going to sleep without another word. I must have thought all men behaved like that after sexual intercourse. David continued the loving even after his sexual need was satisfied – or was it? Even on our first night, Michael had managed only once. Were some men able to achieve more? I was about to find out. Where we lay in the bed, it was soaked with David's sperm that had gradually rolled out of me, and my own lubricants that had been profuse. With a laugh I said, "If we are going to spend the night in this bed, I think we'd better change the sheets and take a shower." We got out and I remade the bed, then we went off to shower together. I had plans for David's next lesson in love making, so I concentrated on thorough washing of our genitals. I need not have worried about his ability to perform again. As I massaged his penis, it rose rapidly in my hand. I smiled at him; "I think we should dry each other, then I'd better attend to this." I gave his penis a gentle squeeze. He moved to press against me, "In a minute or two," I added. Nancy's Story We dried and returned to the bedroom and lay down. This time I conjectured he would be able to hold out longer, so I began some foreplay. I took his penis into my hand and began to slowly stroke it. At the same time, I began to kiss him. At first, gently on the lips, but gradually forcing his mouth open to insert my tongue. He learnt quickly and soon his tongue was exploring the inside of my mouth. Now came the first real step. I drew back from him and took his hand. I moved it down to my vagina. "Put your finger inside me." He did so. "Now two fingers." He obeyed. "Now try three fingers, but gently, darling." Three fingers entered me and I asked him to move them in and out. At the same time, I continued to massage his penis very slowly. After a while I moved away from him again, and then leaned over him so my breasts brushed against his face. "Suck my nipples," I ordered. He made no hesitation about complying. He began with my nipples but was soon taking in a large part of the breast. It was as if he would eat me. "Darling, gently bite my nipples." His teeth closed over one of my nipple and began to nibble it. "Darling, bite harder." His teeth clamped down firmly. I gave a little scream and he released me quickly. "No, darling, don't stop. Harder." He bit savagely and I clung to his head crying out." Now was the time to take the big risk. This might be the only time I would have David, so whatever happened tonight, could be the sum total of our love making. I would take the chance. I moved to the side of the bed and sat on the edge. "Come and kneel in front of me, my love." He knelt. I drew up my legs and parted them so as to give him the full view of my vagina. So far, nothing we had done had allowed this. Now he gazed with a look of wonder on his face. I moved my hands down and pulled aside the lips of my vagina so as to expose it totally to him. He was breathing very hard. Some men are revolted at the sight of a woman's sexual organ, Michael certainly was. Would David be repelled? I took the next step. "Would you kiss me there, my love." Without hesitation he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against my organ. He did not withdraw, but continued to kiss it. "Darling, put your tongue inside me and lick me." I felt his tongue flash into me. I cried out with delight and he increased the speed of his licking thrusting his tongue in deeply. I grasped his head and held in tight. Then I pushed his head away so he once more had my vagina in full view. "There is one special spot a woman has," I told him, "that is very sensitive to sexual excitation." I pulled aside the hood that covered my clitoris. "It's just here." I touched myself. "Put your finger on it." He reached out a finger and gently touched the clitoris. "Just gently move your finger round it." He did so. I let him play with my clitoris for a while then said, "Lick it for me." His head came forward and his tongue found the sweet little place. My female juices were flowing freely and David's face was wet with them, but not for a moment did he hesitate. "Suck me, my love, suck me. Lick me all over, oh my God…" I started to shake, and knew my orgasm was coming. I was screaming out, "Don't stop…oh my God…don't stop…please don't stop…oh yes, yes, yes…ahh." It had burst over me, this orgasm like I had never had before. It shuddered through my entire body and I was dragging David's head into me. I screamed and wept with the power of it. I was soaked and David's face was covered with my wetness, but he continued to pump his tongue up and down and in and out of me. Then this upheaval slowed and I began to climb down. I moved David's head away from me, but took his hand and rubbed it against the outside of my organ until I finally subsided. I fell back on the bed and David came beside me. I was momentarily overcome, and he seemed to sense this, and made no move to touch me. After a few minutes, I turned to him. His face was soaked and it had flowed down his neck onto his chest, so great had been my discharge. I laughed and said, "What a mess we are. I think a bit of a clean up is in order." We went, or rather, I staggered, to the bathroom. I washed David's face, and gave my crotch and thighs a good cleansing. David still had a mighty erection, and I knew we had to do something about that. We returned to the bedroom. We lay on the bed and once more, I began to stroke his penis and kiss him. After a while I moved down and took his penis into my mouth. This caused him to once more cry out, and he groaned and murmured as I sucked and nibbled him. Soon I felt his orgasm approaching, and having become thoroughly aroused myself I moved up the bed, lay on my back and spread my legs. "Take me, darling," I pleaded. He came over on top of me. I took his penis and inserted it into me. It slid in easily to its full length causing me to cry out with love. Then for want of a better, I used a word I had never uttered before. "Fuck me, my darling. Fuck me to death. Kill me, but fuck me. Don't ever stop. Please, please, don't ever stop." David began to pump up and down in me. He responded to my words: "I've wanted you for so long. You don't know how I've wanted you. I've longed for you day and night. I've wanted so much to fuck you. I've dreamed about fucking you night after night." Tears were streaming down his face. All his longings, loving and lusting had come to fruition, and his tears were those of love and gratitude. I was swept up in his emotions and then I felt his orgasm coming and with it my own. He thrust down into me and I was screaming out once more, "I want you…I need you…don't stop…don't ever leave me." And his cries joined mine: "I love you, I love you for ever, I want…you…ahh, Oh God…" We lay together for a long time. His penis becoming slack, but unwilling to leave me. I could have lain all night with him inside me, so great was the love and desire I felt for him. Eventually we parted and lay side by side. He murmured words of love into my ear. "My darling, my love, I want you so much. I've always wanted you, and now, more than ever… And so he went on, and I began to consider what I had unleashed in this lovely young man. Had I done right? Should I have stopped this before it started? What would be the consequences? I fell asleep wondering. I woke with a start. I had forgotten it was Sunday, and the Vicar's wife was expected to attend morning service and carry out her Sunday School duties. David was still asleep, so I left him, once more washed away our love making, dressed and prepared breakfast. By now, David was awake. He came in for breakfast clad only in his underpants. During breakfast, he wanted to talk about the night, and what was to happen now. I pointed out that I had to hurry off for the morning's activities, but arranged for him to return in the afternoon, when we would talk. David was not too happy with this, but had to accept it. He too usually attended morning service, so he dressed and hurried home to attend to his dog and get cleaned up and changed. How I got through the morning, I'll never know. Fortunately, my Sunday School lessons were already prepared, and I was glad that the visiting celebrant did not preach on, "Thou shalt not commit adultery." I was all too aware of David sitting in the congregation, and I don't know whether I should have laughed or cried if that had been the subject. I went home, prepared and ate lunch, and then waited for David to arrive. By 2 o'clock, he was at the door. We went into the lounge and sat opposite each other. He did not look at me. Neither of us seemed to know what to say, but I supposed that being the senior, I had better make a start. "David," I began, "Last night I committed adultery with a young man nearly ten years my junior. I accept the full responsibility for that. I could have stopped it, but I didn't. What I would like you to know is, that I can feel no regret for myself. I had the most wonderful time with you. I felt and feel fulfilled. Have no doubt that I love you, and that what we did was deeply sincere on my part. Given the choice I would do it all over again. Now I would like to know how you feel." He looked up. "Last night, while we were…er…doing it…er…making love, you said you wanted me for ever. I said much the same to you. Was that just the sex talking, or did you mean that?" "I can say it to you now," I replied. "So can I say it to you," he said firmly. I picked up this theme. "David, you know the difficulties we would face in an ongoing relationship. In two days time my husband returns. I certainly don't want him to know what we have done. The pain would be too great for all of us. I love you, but I will not expose us or Michael to a knowledge of that love." "I knew you'd feel like that," he said miserably. "Now I suppose it's all over?" "That's up to you, David." "How?" "If you are prepared to accept limitations on our relationship, we can continue to have something together. If those limitations are more than you are prepared to accept, then we shall have no relationship that includes sex." "What are the limitations?" "First, no one must ever know about our relationship beyond ourselves. Second, as far as Michael is concerned, you come here to work in the garden, and to share some of your music with me. Third, sex will only take place when it is absolutely safe for us to do so – when my husband is away, for example. Fourth, when the time comes and you find a girl of your own age that you want to be with, you will tell me frankly, and we cease to make love. Fifth, if at any time I find it necessary to end our relationship, you will accept it without making any trouble. I have great faith in your character, I know if you say yes to this, you will stick to it. What do you say?" There I was again, chucking the whole lot bluntly at the poor chap, the results of my late night cogitation. He sat in silence for a while, then looking at me said, "I accept, with one qualification." "What?" "Your fifth point. If you ever decide to end it, you will tell me why?" "Of course." It was agreed, and I had committed myself to carry on with this affair. We both sat for a long time probably exhausted by the emotional cost of arriving at this decision. We had both been sitting in separate armchairs, but now David stood up, came across to me and raised me to my feet. Very tenderly, he half carried me across to the sofa. He lay me down and stripped me. He then took off his own clothes. No word was said as he began a strange ritual. First, he kissed both of my feet, then my calves, thighs, belly and breasts. He went on to my neck, chin, lips, eyes, and the tip of my nose, forehead, and then the top of my head. It was all done very slowly, almost reverently. But he had not finished. He turned me over and parted my firm buttocks. I felt his lips touch my anus. I almost balked at this. This was a forbidden area with Michael, and it was only much later with David I learned the joys of anal sex. He went on, kissing me three times on the spine. Finally he turned me on my back again, parted my legs and kissed my vagina. He paused for a moment, then oh so gently entered me with his penis. There was no violent passion, just a soft, sweet movement up and down inside me. He came quietly, giving out only a single gasp, lay inside me for a while, then withdrew. He re-dressed me, put on his own clothes, and said, "I shall go back to the house for a while. I'll return in about an hour if that's all right?" I nodded without saying a word. I was completely dazed by what had happened. David kissed me on the lips and departed. I was trying to work out what this almost religious ritual had meant – so slow and solemn it had been. Then it hit me like a lightening strike. He had taken possession of me. He had claimed me for himself. Where I had laid down conditions, he had carried through a profound act of love. A boy – man – years my junior, had carried through a marriage ceremony far more intense and expressive of deep love than any which could be had through Church or State. He came back within the hour. We made wild, passionate love that night. And it Came to Pass. My story could have ended for you with that night, but I thought you might like to know what followed, as it has it's own strange outcome. I had heard that most affairs last a matter of nine months at the most. Not mine. After five months of frequent love making with David, what I suppose was inevitable happened, I fell pregnant. This involved a difficult complication. Oddly, soon after I had begun my affair with David, Michael started to become more sexually interested. From his once per month or less approaches, he wanted me at least once a week – sometimes twice. Perhaps my love making with David somehow made me more generally desirable. It did mean that at times I was having sexual intercourse up to six times a week. This was no problem when I was with David, whom I could have accepted twice as often. With Michael, it was a bit of strain, as it was now I who had gone off him. In fact, this increased interest on Michael's part once led to a rather odd situation. One day, during school holidays, David had been doing a bit of gardening, then came in and we made love. Michael was away all day and was not expected home until late evening. Three times David took me that afternoon and evening. Then a few minutes after he had gone, Michael arrived home unexpectedly early. I had only had time to replace the soaked bed sheets and put on a light dressing gown, when he walked into the bedroom. I had not even had time to shower or remove David's sperm and other remains of our lovemaking. Completely out of character, Michael decided he wanted sex. He pushed me onto the bed, took off his trousers, and entered me without preamble. I thought he must notice something. My vagina was soaking wet with sperm and my own fluids, and there must have been the after smell of love making on me. Michael noticed nothing. His only comment was, "You're very slippery." Nothing more. It was a lucky escape and fortunately, there was no other occasions when sex with David coincided with Michael. On every other occasion, there were a few hours between them. That, however, was the lesser problem. My difficulty was, knowing whom the father of my child was. Michael and I had never used any contraceptive method, and in fact, it may well have been my inability to get pregnant with him, that first caused him to lose interest. With David, neither he nor I used contraceptives. So, who was to be daddy? Fortunately, between the three of us we had sufficient of the right hair and eye colour, together with other physical features, for this not to be a problem. It was only if Michael insisted on more sophisticated tests the truth would become known and what that truth might be I could not be sure. But as it did not occur to Michael that any one else could have got me pregnant, the question of tests was purely academic. Michael was delighted, and oddly, he once more lost interest in me as a sexual being. With David, I continued to make love as close to the time of birth as possible. Even after that, I would relieve him either with my hand or with oral sex. The child was born, a boy whom I named Paul, and I knew almost instinctively who the father was. In fact, I had been fairly sure all along. I felt I could almost pin down the night David made me pregnant. It was one of our very tender nights, when we made love long and slowly and our orgasms coincided, with a tremendous flood of sperm pouring out of him. As the years passed, to me, it became increasingly obvious whose son Paul was. When David came to see me in hospital after the birth, he simply said, "I now have a son." When I had recovered from the birth David and I continued our love life. Michael also bestirred himself once more, and pressed his sexual attentions on me. So, I was back to five or six intercourses a week. The result, another pregnancy. This time, a girl, and David was able to say; "Now I have a daughter." After the birth the doctor told me, "I'm very sorry Mrs.Fowler, but I'm afraid you won't be able to have any more children, and accompanied this with a long and detailed explanation to Michael and I that left us more bewildered than enlightened. Michael now ceased all sexual contact with me. He departed more and more for vague seminars and conferences. David and I were now three years into our relationship. Against all expert opinions, we were as passionate as ever. If anything, our love for each other had deepened. But it was now harder to find a time for love making with two children round the house. In addition, David was now at university studying chemistry so he was away in the city most of the week, which made things even more difficult. Still, we came together whenever we could. The Finale. There came the time for David to graduate. He did so with honours, coming out top of his year. This led to another turning point in our relationship. David came back to our town for a month. One evening, after the children were in bed, and Michael was at one of his endless committee meetings, he came to see me. After kissing me, he started in without preamble (the years had changed him when it came to speaking out). "I have two important things to tell you, and one thing to ask you." I sensed a crisis. "While I was at university, there were two girls I had sex with. You can kick me out if you like, but I had to tell you." I said nothing. "I want you to know that it was pretty hopeless. I had to pretend they were you so I could cum, and afterwards I felt nothing but miserable guilt." I thought it was time for me to step in. "David, you are a young man. As you should know, I understand the needs of young men. After having sex with me three and four times a week, you found yourself at the university, cut off from me. You took the obvious route. What disappoints me is, that after our agreement right at the start of our relationship, you have left it until now to tell me. Remember, we agreed that if a girl came into your life, you would tell me straightaway, and our relationship would end." "But Nancy," he said, "it wasn't like that. They didn't 'come into my life.' All the time it was you I was trying to see, you I wanted." "All right David, I accept that. What's the next thing?" "I've done very well at university," he said, "and as a result I have been offered a position at a university in Canada. I shall have some teaching work, but in addition, I can work on my doctorate. I have one week left to give them my answer." I was stunned. I should have seen it coming but hadn't. I suppose I had thought he would get a job not too far away and we should still see each other. I felt the blood draining from my face. My throat seemed to close up so I could not speak. I felt tears pressing into my eyes. I struggled for control, and finally croaked out, "But darling, you must certainly accept the offer." What that cost me in emotional stress I can hardly describe. I suddenly felt a broken old woman. David remained silent for a few moments – rather like his old self – then he said; "I want you to come with me. I want you to bring your…our children and come with me to Canada. I want you to divorce Michael and marry me." I think I almost fainted with the stress I felt. I cried out, "David, you…I can't. I'm ten years older than you. You're handsome, clever, with a considerable future. You could get any girl you wanted. You can't want an old woman like me. Go, David, and forget me. Please go, go now, please. "So I can get any woman I want, can I?" he said in a low voice. "Any woman, but the one I love and want. Any woman, but the one who fulfills my deepest needs. Any woman, but the one I'd give my life for. Any woman but you." Nancy's Story He was breathless and shaking and I was openly sobbing. "David, even if I thought it possible, how could I just leave Michael and divorce him. He's done me no harm. He's even been kind to me in his limited way. He's wrapped up in his ministry - it's - just him," I ended lamely. "Wrapped up in his ministry, is he," David spat out. "I never intended to tell you this, but you force me to it. Do you know what he's doing when he goes to most of these so-called seminars and synods?" "Well whatever they do at those sort of meetings, I suppose," I stammered. "I'll tell you what he does," David almost shouted, "he screws my mother. He's been screwing her for years. They go away together and she tells my father she's off to town for a few days, and he tells you he's off to some grand gathering. Haven't you noticed how their departure so often coincides? I've known for years what those two have been up to." I was now wracked with sobs. David made no move to comfort me. He sat looking straight at me. "Many years ago, you gave me little more than an hour to decide whether I wanted you or not. Now I shall be kinder. I shall give you one day – from now until this time tomorrow, to decide whether you want me. I shall be here this time tomorrow for your answer. He rose and departed. I was in utter turmoil. Confronted by David's question and his revelation of Michael's adultery, I was utterly lost. I wept until I had no more tears, then my customary confrontational manner began to emerge. I knew what I must do. Michael came home about 10-30 p.m. I told him I must talk to him. He protested he was tired and wanted to go to bed. I told him to forget it, what I had to say was too important. He saw trouble and sat down. Without prevarication I told him about David and I, and that the children were David's not his. While he digested this horrific information, I launched into the subject of his own sexual activities. Battered on all sides he sat hunched in his chair, saying nothing. Having got started, I thought I might as well finish the news. " David wants me to go to Canada with him, and he wants to marry me." That set him in verbal motion. "Bu…but…you can't. You're years older than him." "Don't give me that," I jeered, "you've been screwing his mother for years, and she's no spring chicken." I might ask you why you turned off me sexually in the first place. Why you put me in a position, where I found consolation in the love of a young boy. I might ask, but I won't, because I can't be bothered any more. I have a lot to consider." "But," he howled, "if you leave me it'll ruin my career." "If I blow the gaff about you and that woman it'll ruin your career," I retorted. "I won't, but someone else might. So don't give me that stuff about your career." "And now I'm going to bed. I won't embarrass you by sleeping with you, and I suggest you use the spare bedroom. I'm sure you wouldn't want to sleep in the bed where David and I have made love. By the way, David will be coming to see me tomorrow. We shall have a lot to talk about, and I suggest you might find it more comfortable if you stayed away all evening. Perhaps you could arrange a 'committee' meeting with his mother." I retired to bed, but not to sleep. I was in chaos. I had used my last reserves of emotional energy to confront Michael. I wanted to think, but my mind would not allow me to put two thoughts together. About to doze off I would come to with a start as some horrifying picture of tomorrow and beyond lurched into my head. Finally, in the early hours of the morning, I dropped off, only to be awakened by the noise of the children. I dragged myself out of bed and staggered off to attend to their needs. Michael had gone. He must have cleared off very early. The day slouched miserably on. I found myself impatient with the children. I dropped things and couldn't be bothered to clear them up. I tripped on the edge of a carpet and cut my shin on a chair. Nothing went right. It was like living in a pall of gloom. The time eventually came for David's arrival. Dead to the time he had stated he was there on the doorstep. He looked tense and anxious, but not nearly so tense and anxious as I felt. The children were asleep in bed and Michael was still out somewhere. We went to the lounge and sat opposite each other. David began. "For the moment I don't want you to tell me what you've decided, but I would like to know if you have decided." "Yes, I've decided," I said wearily. One question then. "Having decided, is there nothing that will change your decision, whatever that decision is?" "No, there is nothing that will change my decision." "Nancy, when I left you yesterday I was hard, even cruel. I felt I had to be in order to force you to really consider and decide, just as you did to me all those years ago. Now you have decided, and you are sure that the decision is unalterable…" He looked at me and I nodded…"then I want to tell you something I have never told you before. Whatever your decision, I want you to know this, and always remember it." He paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and continued. "Almost from the first time we made love, something strange happened to me. It wasn't just sex…lust…even love. It was something more. To put it the best way I know how, I understood what the Bible means when it talks about a man and a woman becoming 'one flesh.' You are my other half. You must have noticed how reluctant I am to withdraw my penis from you when we have finished. It's not simply that I want more sex with you – I always want that – but when I withdraw I am separating from the other half of myself. In you, I am whole." He stopped, then started again very gently. "Now tell me your decision, please." Looking straight at him, I began. "First, about what you have just said. I knew about this very early in our relationship. It wasn't during that first burst of passion, but afterwards, the next day, when you took me so tenderly on that sofa." I pointed to the sofa. "I knew then that you were the other half of me. I never intended to say this to you – I was so aware of the age difference and the fact that you might find a girl to marry – I never wanted to cling to you – but I felt the same as you. Now my answer. Yes, I shall come with you to Canada, and if you still wish it, I shall marry you. We sat in silence. After a while David got up, drew me to my feet and lovingly kissed me. Just like all those year ago he half carried me to the sofa. Again he stripped himself and me and kissed me all over. I knew this time what it meant. He was reclaiming me. As his penis entered me he looked straight into my eyes and said softly, "I've come home, my beloved." I returned his intense gaze and said, "And I welcome you with joy, my love."