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The following story is intended for
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It contains frank and sexually explicit
material.
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please do not read
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Erotic
Odyssey III - Amoral Adventures
Despite her un-Chinese name, Debby was
Chinese or to be more precise, of Chinese ancestry. I wasn't sure of her age
except that I believed her to be over thirty and maybe even over forty. She wasn't
particularly pretty and although she was a big girl, she didn't appear to have
an eye-catching figure. And I wasn't entirely sure that her mental elevator
reached the top floor.
We became sort of friends when she knocked on
my apartment door, soliciting for the Salvation Army. Solicitors weren't
allowed into the building but because she lived there and was an owner there
was no condo bylaw saying she couldn't solicit. My contribution was generous
since the Salvation Army is my favourite charity and I could see that she was
impressed. It seemed to produce deference in her behaviour towards me and,
although I didn't take a lot of notice of that special respect, my often lonely
organ stirred in unconscious response to her fawning.
Three days after that I met her in the lobby
while I was waiting for the elevator and she asked me to go to her church with
her. I wasn't really interested and I begged off but not before I found out
that it was a Chinese Evangelical church which fitted with her Sally Ann canvassing,
That day by the elevator I took an inventory
of Debby's assets. She was rather plain with a round face, a small and somewhat
full lipped mouth and she was about 5"8" tall. Her hips were wide and
round but she didn't look fat and there was a discernible swell under her
blouse but I didn't think she was exactly stacked. All in all though, she was
good, prime Chinese beef and I began to think seriously about how I could make
a meal of her. I sensed that she might be somehow different and I don't mean that
I expected her slit to be horizontal instead of vertical. That would be neat,
though. Wonder why the Maker didn't do it that way so the farther she spread
her legs apart, the tighter she'd be. (Ha Ha)
A few days later we met again by the elevator
and she asked why she never saw my wife with me. I explained briefly that I was
separated from my wife and I saw her eyes widen. "But you still wear a
ring. Do you want to get back together with her?"
"No. We decided we were both better off
apart... and the kids were grown up enough to handle it."
"That's too bad," Debby said and I
realized that she had a rather halting way of talking, as if she had to pause
and consider each word before she released it to be heard. "Are you... was
she... I mean, was it a Christian marriage?"
"Well, we were married in a Christian
church," I replied, wondering what she meant by her question.
""Mmm
hmm... all right... but? Like, was she a Christian wife? Did she do as the
Bible says?"
"You may have to educate me, Debby. Some
time we can get together and you can explain how you think a wife should act...
or how the Bible tells her to."
"Oh yes, Joe. I'd like that. I could
sort of be like a missionary," and she ended the statement with a smile
that might have meant she was just kidding (about the missionary bit) or maybe
it was just a friendly signal. Whatever it was the only missionary aspect I was
interested in was having her in the missionary position. Damn. She would be
able to give a good ride I mused and my unruly tool stirred in hopeful
anticipation.
On the next Sunday I was at the elevator
again when Debby came back from church. "Do you like tea?" she asked
and when I answered in the affirmative she invited me to her apartment for tea.
"We can have that talk... I'll be a missionary," she said with an
enigmatic smile.
"I've thought about what you told me,
Joe. I mean about being better off separated from your wife than
together," she chatted as she put on water for tea and fussed with some
other things in the open kitchen. "And I've prayed about it too. Can I
read to you some passages from the bible?"
"Sure Debby, if you want to. But I'm not
very religious."
"That doesn't matter. I can see by the
way you act that you're a good person. Will you get my bible? It's on the
little table at the head of my bed," and she pointed at her bedroom, the
only bedroom in the apartment.
She's like
Debby was sitting on the sofa with the teapot
and cups on the coffee table in front of her. It looked as if I was supposed to
sit beside her and that certainly suited me. I sat and she poured the tea and
after a couple minutes she opened the Bible to reveal a typewritten sheet of
paper.
"This is what God says about a woman's
duty and she read from the typewritten page, "To be discreet, chaste,
keepers at home, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God be
not blasphemed. That's written in Titus 2:5. Was your wife like that?"
"Not really," I said, wondering if
this woman really believed in what she'd just read to me.
Debby continued to read from what may have
been a sermon from somewhere. "What God is telling us is that the woman is
to 'put herself under' the headship of her husband, her own husband. This word
'own' indicates that while there may be other expressions of submission which
are necessary and appropriate for a wife to evidence in her relationships with
others, there is a special 'submission' which is required in relationship to
her husband." My neighbour stopped reading then, looked up at me and said,
"Unless your wife did that... submitted to you... it is probably best that
you separated from her."
"Well, she definitely did not submit to
me in anything... more like she expected me to submit to her."
"It sounds like she is Godless... and
maybe you are too if you submitted to her. It says her very clearly that there
are no restrictions specified or implied as to the scope of her submission to
her husband. This text requires that the woman be subject to her own husband in
everything."
"Would you be that kind of wife?"
Damn! I wanted to get between those big, strong legs.
"That's what God requires. I'm a servant
of God."
"But you're not married. Have you ever
been?"
"No. God hasn't willed that I should
marry yet."
"Hmmm, I see. But what do you do?"
I suddenly saw the opening to bring up the dildo. Had she left it there on
purpose to invite my question? Or more? "I mean,
you're a big, beautiful woman and I know you have needs... desires. How do you
cope?"
"I pray. God helps me through
prayer."
"And I guess that's a prayer tube on the
table by your bed, is it?"
"I don't know what you mean, Joe,"
and she was either a good actor or she really didn't remember leaving the
vibrator in the open.
"Come with me. I'll show you."
As soon as we got to the bedroom she saw the
dildo and scooped it up and threw it in a dresser drawer. In the brief moment
the dresser drawer was open I glimpsed what looked like some other sexual
implements.
"Oh Joe... that's... like... I get a
stiff neck and I have to use that on the muscles to relax them," she stammered, her face scarlet with embarrassment.
"C'mon Debby... you don't have to
lie," I said softly and I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her down
beside me. "It's natural and healthy to do things to relieve those
tensions." I cautiously placed a hand on her thigh and gave a reassuring
squeeze. Yes, she was firm and strong. I was wearing loose fitting sweatpants
and I had to shift position so my already raging erection was not bulgingly
visible. "I'm sure you've studied what God has to say about it, too, haven't
you?"
"Oh Joe. Do you... like... do you don't think I'm awful? I
know what the Bible says... and I've read some other Christian things about it
too. But I'm not... like I'm not sticking to what God says." She reached
into a drawer in the little table by the bed and withdrew another sheet of
paper. "This is what I found on the Internet... on a religious site"
and she handed to me the sheet of paper.
She had obviously copied the text directly
from a Web Site. It read thus:
Is it wrong to indulge in sexual
fantasies; what about masturbation?
Yes. Such fantasies lead to lust. After
marriage, there is nothing wrong with fantasizing about your legal spouse,
especially during periods of forced separation. However, other sexual fantasies
which do not involve a legal spouse lead to illicit lust. The Bible says
fornication (sexual intercourse between unmarried persons) and adultery (sexual
intercourse between married persons) are both sin. Jesus said that fantasizing
about a person to whom you are not married is sin: "But I tell you that
anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her
in his heart." Matt. 5:28,
"Like... it's not OK... not like you
say. What Matthew said would be the same for women, wouldn't it? I mean...
like... it would be the same as fornicating or doing adultery wouldn't
it?"
As she spoke in a delightfully timid, halting
way my hand worked its way under the hem of her skirt and was on the silky,
bare flesh of her thigh. I changed hands so I could put my other arm around her
shoulders and I held her closer as I asked, "Is it because you imagine
someone else is with you... like a future husband perhaps, that you think it's
a sin?"
"Yes. Oh goodness yes! Every time. And I know it's a sin but I can't stop
myself," and she buried her face against my chest.
I used my free hand, the one that wasn't
working its way up her thigh toward her pussy, to tilt her face to mine and
cover her mouth with my own. I tasted salt and realized that she was crying but
I was not deterred by her obvious remorse. As I traced the outline of her soft
mouth with my tongue she tried to pull back but I held her close and after a
few seconds her lips parted to admit my tongue. I'm not sure if she'd ever been
tongue kissed before or not. Her tongue was hot and it seemed large too, making
it difficult to get mine in her mouth as much as I wanted.
And then I knew I didn't need to hold her
mouth close to mine. Her tongue moved out of the way and tangled with mine and
she uttered sharp, little throaty whimpers as she kissed me back. My freed hand
then attacked the buttons of her blouse and in no time at all I had her breasts
bare. They weren't very large, barely a C-Cup in size but they were round and
as firm as a teenager's. As I caressed them she broke off our kiss.
"Please Joe... please stop. It's a sin
but Satan has me in his power. Please let me go?"
"I'm not that bad, Debbie. I'm not
Satan. Have you been talking to my wife? Ex-wife?"
I said lightheartedly although I was not at all lighthearted by then. My balls
felt like they were balloons and they ached desperately. "And what we're
doing is not a sin... not fornication or adultery or anything bad." I
planted a gentle kiss on her trembling lips before I continued; "God made
us the way we are and he gave us the intelligence to find un-sinful ways to
cope with our natural and healthy urges. When we don't have a spouse we can
quell the urges alone... as you do and I do... and it's natural to dream that
we're not alone when we do that. And we can help each other too."
My other hand had at last progressed up to
the juncture of her thighs and I had to use a bit of pressure to force my
fingers between the unyielding fleshy columns. Oh God yes! Her silk panties
were wet and slick, oiled no doubt by the undeniable proof of her sexual
arousal.
"But... hanh... we
can't... not that... it's for marriage... I must be a virgin for my
husband."
"You'll still be a virgin, Debby. Just
let me do what you do for yourself... it won't be a sin... and you'll enjoy it
more... please, Debby?"
She looked up at me shyly and asked,
"Are you sure Joe? You're not just telling me that to... you know? Get
me?"
"Oh God no, Debby," I lied.
"But I want to teach you the true beauty of what God has made for us...
just relax Debby, and trust me."
Like an obedient puppet the woman relaxed.
Her legs parted and my fingers slipped easily under the elastic leg opening to
contact the soft, pulpy wetness of her fat cunt. Her clitoris was already hard
and erect and when my finger touched it she squealed. I'm sure nobody but
herself had ever touched her cum trigger and I am equally sure that another's
touch is far more exciting than one's own. Certainly that's the case with my
cum-trigger anyway.
The result was gratifying. Debby pushed out
at my hand as soon as I felt the slick, hard nubbin and her mouth twisted in a
grimace of unbridled lust. I tried to remove her panties and she lifted her ass
off the bed to help but, caught up in the heat of the moment, I ripped them off
and gained full and unfettered access to her sparsely furred snatch.
"Joe .
Joe. Joooooee!" she cried out, her voice
raising in volume and shrillness as her thighs locked on my wrist and she
humped my hand like a dog humping an ankle. I managed to slip my middle finger
inside without ceasing to caress her clit and I felt her inner muscles going
wild. God she was going to be good. I could hardly wait to feel those same
muscles milking my cock but even as I lusted for that goal I knew that I
wouldn't get it today. I was too far gone and if I got into her I'd go off long
before I could bring her to another climax.
"Did you like that, Debby? Was it
good?"
She had fallen back into a horizontal
position and lay with her heavy legs widespread, my hand still titillating her
mushy twat.
"Don't... please not
now," she gasped as she
pushed my hand away. I recognized the reason. Many women don't like to be
touched on their clits right after cumming so I eased away but still caressed
the sodden, pulpy flesh of her fat cunt.
"Joe! Oh Joe!" she cried out when I
took her right hand which was lying limply at her side and pulled it inside my
loose-fitting sweat pants to touch my throbbing tool.
"Please Debby. It's not a sin... not
what we just did... but... will you do that for me too? Please?" I slid
down my sweats and freed my upthrust cock.
"Hold it, Debby," I choked as, with
my free hand, I took her other hand and drew it down to my throbbing organ.
"Oh! It's so hard!" my
Chinese neighbour gasped as, tentatively, she touched my cock.
"Easy, Debby... don't make me cum... not
yet," I panted as she began gently to slip the fingers of both hands up
and down and round my tool, feeling it, squeezing it, her face flushed and
those slant eyes looked at it with a kind of wonder, Damn! I could have her!
She wouldn't try to stop me. I wouldn't try to fuck her today but I was sure
I'd get her. The thought of having my throbbing cock surrounded by her soft,
moist cuntflesh and feeling those delightful inner muscles milking it was too
much for my overheated libido.
"Oohhh God," I groaned as the first
hot convulsion of my climax gripped my loins and I arched up against my
surprisingly skilled neighbour's gently stroking hands. Debby raised her upper
body and grasping my cock tightly with both hands, pumped it with a slow, up-down
motion that took me the rest of the way to orgasm.
"Oh!" she cried out as the first spurt of gism jetted from
my bucking, jerking tool, a white, viscous stream that hung for a moment, than
fell wetly onto her naked hip. "Oh, Joe," she gasped in a soft,
breathless whisper as a second, lesser spout followed the first and then a
third cascaded behind it and ran down over her pumping hands. But she didn't
release her grip, squeezing and stroking as she milked
me like a milkmaid would drain a cow. I don't think, in the many times I had
done that to myself, I had ever produced such a flood of semen.
"Oohhh Debby... where
did you learn to do that?" I
moaned as I slumped back on the bed, her cum-covered hands still caressing me,
I felt foolish. Somebody must have already been in her and I hadn't been able
to hold back long enough to get there myself.
"I... didn't learn Joe... I didn't know.
Is that... like... is that your seed?" she asked as she indicated the
creamy globs of gism trickling over the back of her hand.
"Yes Debby. That's what got Onan into
trouble. But it's not the same now... God knows it's better to do what we just
did than to pump the seed up inside you and produce an unwanted child."
But I was planning to pump my seed up into her, hoping I would be firing
blanks.
It would take time to get into her but my
chunky neighbour woman was lying half naked beside me, my hand on her pussy and
my gism splattered on her naked hip and the back of her hand and she wasn't
objecting. And maybe she was just a round-heeled slut who everybody got to fuck
and who got off by pretending to be a devout Christian. I didn't know but her
performance (not her words) to date didn't fit with a blushing, innocent
virgin.