Today was Sunday and Marcia decided that just because Bill was gone it was no excuse to stay home from church. She dressed and left the house with plenty of time to spare. She drove slowly and carefully as she pondered yesterday's romp with Sue. Would she or Sue ever fall romantically in love with each other? Would either of them ever get to a point where they wanted each other rather than their husbands? She knew both women and men who had, and it destroyed their lives, at least as far as their family, church, and community lives were concerned. Well, there was the old adage, "Forewarned is Forearmed," and she had just forewarned herself. Perhaps she should discuss this with Sue.
As she walked up to the church's main entry, Sue and Don were arriving at the same moment. Don held the big heavy door for Marcia and said to her in an authoritarian tone, "You're sitting with us today." Sometimes the two couples sat together, and sometimes they didn't. She never remembered sitting alone with them. Several times Marcia looked cautiously over in Sue's direction. She felt nothing. She didn't get an inkling of a turn-on. It was just Sue, her best friend sitting there. What a relief!
As they were shaking hands with the minister in the foyer after the service, both Sue and Marcia had the same thought and got the giggles thinking of the unorthodox lingerie baptismal ceremony. When they got out of earshot of those on the front steps and Don was about 15 feet ahead of them, Sue turned to Marcia and started again to giggle, "I wanted to invite the pastor to our next baptismal ceremony to show him how it was really suppose to be done." Don turned around and asked them what they were laughing at, but the girls passed it off and didn't give him an answer, but continued their unsuccessful attempts to curb their laughter. Don sarcastically injected, "Whatever it is, it really must be good." Sue convinced him it was just girl stuff and they went their separate ways.
Marcia went home to an empty house. As she walked into the kitchen from the garage she decided it wasn't nearly as much fun to have all these solo orgasms. She suddenly had a deeper understanding of young people who had no other sexual outlet but their own hands--or vibrators, if they knew about them. She wanted to feel Bill's hands on her breasts, and his tongue caressing her nipples. She wanted to feel his mouth on her clit and his penis probing her backbone. She wanted to feel the warm semen spewing into her loins. But transcending all this, she wanted Bill to understand her strange, new urges. She wanted to pee on him and him on her, just to see what it would feel like. She wanted every part of him to be every part of her, and vice versa. But it would never be. She was sick.
Marcia wondered if she should do her last pee production today and then just wait until Bill got home from Dallas for what she hoped would be a rousing, wild piece of ass, as Bill called it. They had only had less than two weeks from the time they drove Michelle to the college dorm until Bill was off to Dallas. They had both looked forward to this time in life it seemed for decades. Well, it was--20 years since there were no children to mess up a nice, planned sex party. Several times they had everything planned with the kids away and she got her period. She knew it didn't bother some men, but it bothered Bill. He hated messes, and making love during menstruation was messy. Well, that was his problem not hers, and she really didn't mind abstaining for a couple of days. She flowed fast and furious for three days and then it was over. Bill never seemed to feel deprived. During the last four months of both her pregnancies, Bill would not penetrate her. He would stimulate her orally or with his fingers, or she could use her vibrator, but he would not invade the privacy of the baby's world. Toward the end of her pregnancies stimulation and organsm become more difficult. It was too awkward for her to hold the vibrator, and Bill would let it slip off her clit and she would lose the orgasm and want to give up. Bill would never show affection in public, respect, yes, but affection no. He didn't like others slopping all over each other or grabbing breasts or butts. That was just one of his little idiosyncracies. She guessed all of us had some little taboo areas.
She put the final touches on her house cleaning and then sat down to rest. Her mind wandered to Darren and Michelle. Did either of them have that "pants-peeing" gene if there was such a thing? How about her mother or her father? Someday she would like to shock her mother and come right out and ask her if she ever had little accidents, and then drop the bomb and ask her if she ever did it accidentally on purpose. She could see the shock on her mother's face and could hear her scold, "Marcia Jean, whatever has gotten into you to talk like that. Didn't we raise you better than that." And that would be the end of the conversation.
Perhaps she should ask her father. He wasn't as up tight as her mother, but Marcia had never even said the word sex in his hearing. She was sure that once or perhaps twice in her teens he had heard her pleasuring herself, and one day she had forgotten to lock the door and he walked into the bathroom when she was just about to orgasm. He at least pretended not to comprehend what was going on. Bill had said that all men "jack off," but Marcia just couldn't picture her father even having sex with her mother, say nothing of playing with himself. And the thought of her mother peeing in her panties was outrageously hysterical. She guessed the secret of who-did-what-to-whom-and-where was locked up forever, but she would always be curious about it. At least she knew that her father shot his wad into her mother at least once, because here she stood, the image of her father. Bill had said that Norwegians were just as horny as any other culture except they were just intensively stoic about it. She would like to confront her parents and ask, "Mother, did Dad ever fuck you? Did you ever enjoy it?" Again Marcia chuckled at the reaction she would expect to receive. One time when she was about 13 she used that f-word and her mother heard her. She had the cleanest mouth in Cleveland for a week because it got such a washing out with soap. She smiled a warm smile thinking of her parents, and hoped they were not as rigid on the inside as they appeared to be on the outside.
Well, she had the option having another pee session today, or wait until morning and be sure to take care of business before Bill called from the airport. She decided it would be both, and the one tomorrow would be a heat-up time for Bill's return. She knew he would rush her right off to bed because he had been equally as starved as she had been satiated these past ten days. "Geez, what did women do when their husbands or boyfriends were in the service and sent oversees," Marcia wondered. Well, she knew what most men did and it didn't excite her thinking of Bill lying in in a dirty bed somewhere with a young prostitute who perhaps could not speak English. Thank goodness he had missed both the Korean and Vietnam wars and they never had to face that problem. If they had, would Bill have been able to keep their pact of no-outside-of-marriage sex? Thank goodness, she never had to find out. She had learned she could trust him, and she did. It wasn't as though he didn't get an occasional proposition. He was handsome, fit, and fun to be with, and often the life of the party. He always told her about his propositions. Some were humorous and some were not. Some were clumsy and some were cunning. One of his propositioners pouted at his negative response and asked, "Do you have any idea what it does to a woman's self image to throw herself at a man and have him refuse her?" Bill had taken her hand in his and told her it felt the same way for a guy to be refused, and before his marriage to Marcia he had been turned down several times. It was devastating for him and he knew it was for her. He felt sorry for the woman who was now suffering.
One of his propositions came from a new secretary he had hired when Marcia fell behind in book work. She was substituting nearly every day of the week and had suggested Bill hire someone for at least the remainder of that school year. He hired a very competent woman about 5 years his senior. She was quiet and efficient, was punctual and professional. After about three months of Lisa's being in their home office all day when Marcia was at school, Bill noticed that there were little touches and rubs. One day he had his hand on the edge of the desk and she leaned over to get something. Her crotch pressed into his hand and he was certain she lingered longer than necessary. Then one day she stood behind him in his office chair and said softly, "I can't stand it any longer, and she leaned forward and put her breasts on the back of his neck. He wanted to reach up and caress them. He wanted to run his hand up her skirt and feel what was no doubt a very wet crotch. He wanted to slowly slip his penis into her waiting, dripping vagina. Later, he told Marcia that he knew it wouldn't stop there if he so much as touched her with any sexual intention. He reached around behind him and took her hand, "Lisa, I am a man and you excite me very much. There is nothing I would like better than to grab you and just follow my instincts. However, you have seen the devotion Marsh and I have for each other and I wouldn't do anything in this world to hurt her. She might not be hurt by our little tryst or she might be. I won't take the chance." Lisa looked smitten, but stood erect and brought the episode to an end, "Bill, you are one great man, and your refusal makes me love you even more, but I do understand, and if you still want me around there will be no hanky-panky on my part." Lisa finished out the school year and that was the end of Bill's office help. After that year there was never that great a demand on Marcia's time by the school system and no need for outside help.
Marcia thought of some of her propositions that had come her way, mostly in college, but even after their marriage. Some of Bill's customers somehow got the idea that she was to be their reward for a large order. Where did men get the idea that a woman was willing to jump in bed with any guy who had the hots for them, or who just wanted to cool off his rocks on anyone handy. She had been openly propositioned by two different butchers in their local grocery-chain store during the past year. Did playing around with wet, red meat get them stimulated or something? Men! She thought of Michelle and wondered how she was going to handle the temptations of life now that she was out from under her parents' protective cover. Thank goodness for modern day protection. At least Michelle could escape the miseries of pregnancy if she was careful. Both Bill and Marcia had an open format with Michelle and Darren on the subject of sex as well as all other subjects. Responsibility had been the emphasis with few moral judgments.
It was now time for something to eat, and then think of bed and what she was going to do for one of her last wet orgasms. She decided again to make it simple tonight, but tomorrow it should really be wild to get her ready for Bill. Again she wasn't hungry and just grabbed some fruit out of the fridge. It amazed her how Bill's absence could affect her appetite. How she missed him.
What was it that Sue had said, that she and Don had gone out and done it together in a park? Well, she hadn't done that yet and unless she tried it now it would never happen. She was still dressed in her church clothes, pantyhose and the whole bit. She had kicked off her heels as she walked in the door and had spent the afternoon in her stocking feet. She should have removed her pantyhose because they were not all that comfortable, but her reveries had made her forget the slight discomfort. "Why not pretend I'm in church? I'm already dressed for it. In fact, I think I'll drive over to the church and tell the pastor I am there to sprinkle the church lawn." Marcia laughed audibly at the insolent thought. She got into her car, drove to the church but parked about a half block away. She didn't want anyone recognizing her car. It was 9 p.m. and with daylight-savings time it was still very light. She walked nonchalantly to the church and up the steps to the front door.
She wondered if anyone was inside so knocked lightly on the door. To her surprise her minister opened the door. "Did you want something, Mrs. Miller?" he asked. Terrified, Marcia did her best to be both truthful and yet deceiving. "I-I need to use the rest room very badly and I thought...." He was looking straight into her face when she relaxed and gave a little push. The water streamed into her panties and down her legs, forming an ever- enlarging puddle between her legs. It wet the front of her skirt and the back of her skirt. She must have been quite a sight standing there in a puddle in her heels which she had no time to remove as she had planned. Her minister had a quizzical look on his face as he opened his mouth in awe. "Mrs. Miller, I don't think you made it, and you have just done one grand job of baptizing yourself. Would you like a certificate for this occasion?" and he threw back his head and laughed. She assured him her car was just around the corner and that she didn't need any help now that she had lost the battle. All the way to the car she was laughing about the baptizing comments. "Geez, he isn't such a stuffed shirt after all. I wonder what he would think if he knew it was planned and that I enjoyed every naughty minute of it except the shock when he opened the door. And would he scold me if he knew I was going back to my car and masturbate?" What a strange world God had created in which everyone stressed honesty, but few practiced it.
She took the towel out of the back seat and placed it on the driver's seat and sat on it even though her seats were vinyl. She had saved some of her pee for this moment. She relaxed and emptied her bladder, fingering her clit through her soaked panties and pantyhose. She was angry at herself for not removing those darn pantyhose before she left home, but she wanted to make it a church thing. Now she found it was more difficult to arouse herself through both her pantyhose and panties. She lifted herself in the seat and struggled to slip her pantyhose down to her thighs. Drip, drip, drip, she could hear the splashes on the carpet as her pee dripped off her wet dress and missed the towel. Now she was ready to conclude this episode that had taken such a strange twist. Her crotch was excitingly warm and her clit greedily responded to her manipulation. "Geez, that was exciting, but I think I had better not develop a reputation for peeing around the church. One accident in a lifetime better be enough." She came quietly but hard. If anyone had been watching they would never have known what was happening. Of course there was the tell-tale line of drips that extending from her car 400 feet back to the puddle by the front door of the church. Sue would get hysterical hearing about this venture, at least she thought so.
Marcia drove home, wiped up her mess in the car, shed her skirt and half-slip in the garage and carried them to the laundry. Then she finished undressing by taking off her wet pantyhose and panties and started the wash cycle. Her shoes were in the car, soaked and perhaps ruined, but that was one of the prices one must pay for such bold, naughty-but-stimulating adventures. And this had certainly been an adventure. How she wished she could share it with Bill. She fantasized him throwing back his head and giving a huge guffaw. Then her fantasy moment faded and she came back to reality. Bill was coming home tomorrow and life would become normal again--or would it. She always had Sue to liven things up. She readied herself for bed and climbed in, again grabbing and hugging "Bill." She marvelled at how totally satisfied she was sexually. Often she would need 2, 3, or 4 orgasms to be that satiated. Perhaps the pastor's "participation" in her baptism was worth two or three 'gasms.
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