Woman's breasts under a shower ~ MarriageHeat

Getting to Know My Wife, Part 1

This story is part of a series about Benjamin and Mary Beth.
You can read previous posts in the series by visiting the author page of hardhornyhusband.


Trigger warning: the female protagonist of this story describes physical and verbal parental abuse and hints that it might have been sexual as well. – MH


After posting my first seven stories, I’ve realized I haven’t told you much about my wife and myself.  So it’s time for the back story that will make my first stories and all after make more sense.

I am 55, and my wife is now 30.  When we met, she was 16, and I was 41.  I had never married and had never wanted to, though I had been in a few sexual relationships over the years.  But I had since found Christ and become a new man, though still growing in the faith.

I first met Mary Beth when she walked into my church, where I served as a greeter.  She wore what I will call a very puritan dress: high-necked, long-sleeved, covering her legs to the ankle.  The dress was a bit tight on her tiny body, and she’d pulled back her very long blonde hair into what I’ll call a cross between a bun and ponytail.

“Hi!  I’m Benjamin,” I said and welcomed her to our church.  She was very timid, not even making eye contact as she softly shook my hand and walked into the sanctuary, clutching her Bible to her chest.

Sally, one of the oldest members of the church, came over to me and asked, “Was that was Mary Beth?”

“Yes,” I said, “do you know her?”

Sally told me Mary Beth lived in the country with two younger siblings and her father.  As she told me what she had heard about the father, I could only imagine what a horrific life she and her siblings must live.  Sally said that Mary Beth’s mother had passed away—well, was found dead in a cornfield—several years ago.  Mary Beth, being the oldest, had had to assume the role of mother and wife.  I looked at her dumbfounded, trying to wrap my head around what that might mean but not letting my mind go to a bad place without hearing it from Mary Beth.

Service was about to begin.  I entered and started for my usual seat but stopped when I saw Mary Beth sitting as far in the back as she could, reading her Bible.  “Mary Beth?  Would it be okay if I sat here?  I understand if you wish to be alone.”

“Yes,” she said softly and nodded her head.

I sat down, leaving a few spaces between us.  The pastor asked the congregation to rise and read the sermon’s scripture verses aloud.  And of all the subjects he might have selected, the message that day covered Colossians 3:18-19,Wives, be subject to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord,” and Ephesians 5:33, “however, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband.”

“The Bible commands men to love their wives.  That means laying down our preferences, our rights—even our lives if necessary—to protect and care for them.  A good husband values his wife’s character, encourages her growth as a person and child of God, and provides for her needs, such as the need for affection and appreciation,” our pastor expounded.  “And it commands women to respect their husbands.  This means revering, admiring, and honoring them.  A good wife values her husband’s opinion, admires his values and character, and is considerate of his needs, such as the need for self-confidence and the need to be needed.”

I looked over and saw Mary Beth wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.  Throughout the service, her eyes roamed scripture as the pastor spoke, searching for answers.  My heart went out to her.

Service ended, and Mary Beth collected herself and started to leave.  But when I called to her from the door, she stopped.

“Mary Beth, I hope to see you next Sunday.  There are also Bible studies on Wednesday evenings if you’re interested.”

She nodded and softly said thank you; I think she even smiled a little.  But Wednesday came and went with no sign of Mary Beth.

I drove out to find her house and saw her taking the laundry down with a couple of younger kids running around her.  An older man that I took to be her father hollered at the younger kids to get in the house, then stood watching Mary Beth.  When he looked toward the road and saw me sitting in my truck, I slowly pulled away.

Over the next several months leading up to Christmas, Mary Beth kept coming faithfully every Sunday and every last Wednesday of the month.  She remained guarded but eventually began to speak a little more freely with me and a couple of others.  I admit that I found myself attracted to her despite the significant difference in our age.  She was earnest and mature, most likely due to the heavy responsibility she shouldered, but I kept my feelings to myself due to her youth.

After every service, she had begun asking me to say a silent prayer with her.  But at the Christmas Eve service, she only told me, “Merry Christmas,” and said she had to go.  I saw fear in her eyes as she ran out, leaving her Bible behind.  When I picked it up, I found with it a sheet of paper covered front and back in scriptures and prayers—for salvation, protection for herself and her siblings, and guidance on feelings she had for a man.

I helped close up the church, then grabbing my stuff and her Bible, I pulled out and turned toward her house.  When I got there, I saw Mary Beth and her siblings in the driveway, her father railing at them all.  They were all crying as they climbed into a van hitched to a trailer filled with furniture.  As they pulled out and passed me, Mary Beth looked out the passenger window and saw me there.  Her eyes stayed on me as they drove off.  My heart filled with an undeniable ache.

Fast forward almost two years.  I again stood at the church door as a greeter.  When I turned toward the opening door, I froze, not believing my eyes: It was Mary Beth, still wearing the same style dress, though now more worn and faded, and holding the hands of two young children.  She looked more frightened than I’d ever seen her, but she gave me a little smile as she led her siblings into the sanctuary.  They sat in the back as she always had.

When service started, I walked in asked if I might sit with them.  Mary Beth nodded as she softly read scripture to her siblings from the Bible placed in the pew.  Then, she handed me a piece of paper during the opening music, which I opened as soon as we were seated again.

“Benjamin, there is so much I have to tell you.  I am so frightened, and you are the only person I believe I can turn to.  I’ve taken my siblings and run away from our father.  God has guided me to you.  Please help us.”

I slid my hand along the pew, placed it over hers, and squeezed it, giving her a reassuring smile.  Then I reached down beside me, took up her Bible, and handed it back to her.

She blushed, and though I was not entirely sure, I believed more than ever that her notes and prayers were meant for me to read.

When the service ended and we were leaving, Sally stopped us; she could tell something was afoot and wanted information.  I told Sally that Mary Beth and her siblings would be staying at my place for a while until she could sort some things out.

Mary Beth and her siblings climbed into the back seat of my truck, and when I pulled into my drive, they all gasped.  It must have seemed a mansion after the ill-maintained farmstead, and probably their living conditions these last couple of years had been no better.

Once inside, the kids ran around, yelling and checking everything out.  I showed them to a room they could share with two beds, and they immediately started jumping on the beds in excitement, though Mary Beth tried to stop them.  (Later, Mary Beth told me that they had had to share a mattress on the floor with her many nights.) I told Mary to let them enjoy themselves, and we left them to jump while I showed her to her room next to mine with a huge bed.  The connecting bathroom had two shower heads for couples’ showering with a bench between them and a large clawfoot tub, but I showed her how the door locked from the inside so that she would feel safe and confident of my intentions.

“I’ll take you shopping tomorrow,” I told her.  “But in the meantime, you will find some miscellaneous clothing in the closet here.  They’ve been left by my sister and, uh—visitors over the years.  I’ll phone my sister about some clothes for the kids.  They seem to be about the same size as her kids.” I left her alone to go and make the call.

When I came back, I found her holding up a sexy white lace nightgown.  She gasped and quickly hung it back up when she saw me.

I smiled at her blush.  “My sister will drop some stuff off for your brother and sister tomorrow.  We’ll give them T-shirts to sleep in for tonight, okay?”

“Thank you,” she said and gave me a nervous hug.  “God has answered my prayers in you.”

Later that night, while the children slept, Mary Beth asked to talk.  Finally, she told me her story.

They’d been a happy, loving family at one time.  But failing finances meant her mom had to go back to work after Abigail was born, and her parents started fighting all the time.  Then her father became abusive and would hit her mom.  Finally, one night, her mom never came home.  Her dad didn’t seem too worried, but he became a very angry man from that day on.

“A week later, the police came to say they’d found Mom’s body frozen in a field.  When the police left, Dad turned to me and said, ‘Never speak of her, and get rid of everything in this house that was hers.  You are the lady of the house now; is that understood?’ When I said yes, he said, ‘Yes, what?’

‘Yes, sir.’

He called me a good girl and said, ‘Now go get your siblings in bed.  You’ve got chores to do before you go to bed.’

I did my best, but over time he became more and more verbally and physically abusive, treating me like his servant.  Things escalated over a couple of years—the things he made me do because I was the ‘lady of the house.’”

I didn’t probe for more details; I just let her get what she wanted off her chest.  She told me that when her dad passed out drunk last night, she stole money from his wallet, grabbed her siblings, and got on a bus.  God told her to find me, she said.

I hugged her, saying she and the kids were safe now; I would always care for them.

Mary Beth wiped her eyes and said she needed to clean up and go to bed.  After she headed upstairs, I mulled over her tale, trying to comprehend what she’d been put through.  Well, if God had sent her to me for protection and care, I would make sure she got it.  But there were problems, to be sure.  Why, Mary Beth was only… she’d be 18 now, wouldn’t she?  Well, at least she was emancipated from her father, but if he decided he wanted Joseph and Abigail back, we’d have to fight.

I heard the shower still running as I entered my room and realized Mary Beth had forgotten to close and lock the bathroom door.  Decency required that I protect her privacy, so I stepped over to shut it for her.  But when I saw the reflection of her back in the mirror, I froze.  I knew I should make a quick retreat, but even though she was so thin I could count her ribs, I found myself aroused.  Her nearly emaciated form couldn’t hide the womanly curve of her hips.  When Mary Beth made a half turn to reach for the shampoo on the shower ledge, I glimpsed her breasts, one nipple silhouetted against the dark tiles.  Despite my honorable intentions toward her, my cock hardened of its own accord, pulsing more than it had in a long time.

When Mary Beth turned to shut off the water, I quickly closed the door and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily and my heart pounding.  I’d never felt so alive, so horny, or so in love ever in my life.

Still, I maintained control.  After I calmed down, undressed, and got into my pajamas, I walked to Mary Beth’s door and knocked.  “Mary Beth, may I come in?”

I opened the door at her soft affirmation and stepped inside to find her in bed with the covers pulled up under her chin.

“Is there anything else you need before I turn in?” I felt my cock stir in the loose silk pants at just her presence.

“No,” she said, “but thank you.”

The sound of her husky voice made my cock jump and start to rise, and I saw her eyes widen.  Quickly, I clasped my hands in front of me and made a curt bow.  “Then goodnight.” I stepped out, closed the door, and leaned against the wall again.  I could no longer deny that my feelings for Mary Beth eclipsed a desire to help; I wanted her.  But would someone with her youth have any interest in a man my age beyond my financial ability to help in a time of need?

Well, whether or not she would ever be mine in reality, I could dream of the possibility.  I replayed the sight of her in the shower, my cock reaching full mast in no time.  Hurrying to my room, I closed the door, removed my PJs, and took hold of the raging monster between my legs.  It jumped in my hand, sooo sensitive—I was as worked up as a teenager seeing his first naked girl.  As I flopped onto the bed, a large glop of precum seeped out of my cock and down, so I began to rub it around, wondering what it would be like to hold that frail body in my arms, to bury my face between those perfect tits.  That’s all it took; cum shot in long ropes all over my belly as I held my cock against myself.

I fell asleep, committed to honoring the young woman and her siblings entrusted to my care and wondering how this would all work out.

To be continued…

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24 replies
  1. AprilM226 says:

    WOW!!! You sound like an incredible man. I'm trying to wrap my head around all your details of her life and intertwined with you two together. You are two strong people and should be proud of who you were and who you became. I went back and found your previous stories. Im a bit jealous and crave a love like yours.

  2. Fearless Lunk says:

    Hey, what’s the deal with the opening paragraph? You make this sound like it’s biographical… but also seems like you are writing about characters, even calling it a part of a story series. Can you clarify? — Also amazing tits in the photo! Glorious!

    • Fearless Lunk says:

      I would still like a clarification of the author. He wrote: “ I haven’t told you much about my wife and myself. So it’s time for the back story…” I would like to know if it’s backstory on you and wife in real life (non-fiction) or if it’s backstory on fictional characters? It’s not Better or worse either way, but it helps me frame my experience as a reader.

  3. mbutler says:

    Reality check: I can only hope this story is made up, though even if so, I hope MH rethinks whether they want it — and whatever comes in part 2 — on this site.

    It's a story of a middle-aged man who:
    – Takes abused children (including minors) into his home despite not being a legally-approved foster parent, instead of bringing them to legal authorities trained to care for and find protective custody for abused children.
    – Romantically/sexually pursues a maybe-18-year old teenager who's been abused (implied sexually abused as well) by her own father
    – Spies on this barely-legal, maybe-18 sexual abuse victim while she's naked in the shower, gets aroused, and masturbates to her
    – Plus….whatever else comes next in Part 2

    Seriously, MH. Despite the "loving"/"spiritual" wrapping, this story describes an astonishingly unethical, illegal, creepy, voyeuristic treatment of child victims of physical (and implied sexual) abuse — and does so on a site whose mission is to provide "erotic" stories for people's sexual pleasure. You need a reality check, and you need to take this down.

    And pardon my bluntness, but the fact that you need someone to point this out to you is astonishing.

    • MarriageHeat says:

      Your bluntness is pardoned. Thank you for sharing your impression of this story. There were several reasons I (Missy) decided to publish it.

      First of all, I am convinced the story is fiction. As you say, authorities would have been involved otherwise, especially because of the siblings. There were other clues in the original manuscript that pointed to its fictional nature as well.

      Second, the story represents a very potent theme in fantasy, especially among males—that of being the "little s" savior of one's wife, an image of Christ's rescue of the Church. The rescue of a damsel in distress is also a frequent theme in romance novels and older movies, though it doesn't sit well with more modern audiences. The circumstances from which this rescue took place may have been too extreme for some readers, however. Perhaps a trigger warning is in order.

      Third, I saw a parallel between this tale and that of Ruth and Boaz, with the siblings playing the corollary to Naomi in the Bible story. True, in our society today, a May-December relationship is often judged by others as predatory or "creepy", but there is no Biblical precedence to do so. And a young person who experiences abuse can still have a healthy, loving marriage free of manipulation, even if the person chooses a more mature partner. One would hope that would make it more likely.

      Seeing a person shower and being aroused by the sight is not strange or condemnable behavior. And a single man fantasizing over a single woman to the point of masturbation is a normal way to handle that arousal. The author has already established the outcome of the relationship—a 35-year marriage. His character has made no move to sleep with his now-adult charge, and his language implies that he will not before said marriage.

      This story has plot holes that don't fit with reality, so I feel comfortable printing it as fiction, though perhaps it more closely aligns with the literary definition of fantasy. I don't see the behavior exemplified so far as sinful, though it would not be likely to occur, as written, in modern society. The children would have gone into foster care, the young lady hopefully into the care of a "Sally" in the church or otherwise a women's shelter. It would certainly have been a very different story then, wouldn't it.

    • ILoveMarriage says:

      Well, the girl is 18, which I think qualifies her to be the guardian for her siblings. And I got the feeling that I was reading something historical, from the thirties.

      A May-December relationship may not be wise, and I personally find romantically pursuing anyone young enough to be my daughter a bit creepy, but that's just me. Certainly nothing immoral about it. You can't help who you fall in love with.

  4. ILoveMarriage says:

    I enjoyed this story. I can relate to part of it.

    My girlfriend accidentally exposed her breasts to me. She was actually a little younger than the girl in the story. She didn't know, and I didn't tell her until years later when we ended up married to each other. They weren't the first breasts I had seen, but they are quite unique, and she is of a different race. I told her they ruined it for all other girls!

    BEAUTIFUL picture, MH. Thank you. And thank You God 🙂.

    • Fearless Lunk says:

      The age of the girl is less of an issue than the fact that the voyeur in the story is in his 40s. I understand the concerns (even if it’s not technically illegal). Of course someone escaping abuse is going to “cling” to any safe adults around them. But it’s up to the “sober” adult to not take advantage of a person when they are emotionally vulnerable. I’m assuming the story is fiction, which is why I’m being so blunt.

    • MarriageHeat says:

      The content of the story is ultimately in our editorial hands. I hope you trust us not to publish any abusive activity in this unconventional relationship. As surely as Prince Charming did not abuse Cinderella, neither shall Benjamin his Mary Beth. But despite their age gap, we expect to see the natural course of attraction leading to love, then marriage and sex that our longer narratives usually follow.

  5. Hotnorthern says:

    I was a little creeped out by this story. I didn’t take it as fiction, but I took it as the backstory for all the other stories he’s written. Maybe it is fiction, maybe not. Maybe the author should clarify. He writes in his other stories that he adopted the children and married the older sister. So it seems to be an ongoing theme. It did creep me out for all the reasons that others have mentioned. She’s been abused by her dad and now a new man old enough to be her dad has taken them in. I mean if in reality they have been happily married for 30 years then what can I say. I know people do marry people with large age gaps. I met a 70 year old man recently who is married to a 30 year old. It was a little weird but they are adults.
    Personally if this is fantasy then I have more of an issue with it. Why would someone be fantasizing about an abused barely legal young woman? That’s creepy as all get out. If this is something that actually happened, maybe we need the rest of the story for context. But maybe it will just get creepier.

  6. DefiantArtist says:

    I see a lot of unfavorable comments here…which is rare, I think, on this site. So let me just throw out that I love this story and hope to see more of it soon, whether it's true or not. I don't understand why our modern society has such a huge hang-up on these age gap relationships: we see it throughout the Bible, and nowhere is there ever even the slightest hint that the ages of respective partners in a marriage is of any consequence at all.

    And sure, the idea of a man actually being the hero and 'rescuing' a damsel in distress is politically incorrect…but ya know what? WHO CARES. That's what men are called to do, be the protectors and providers, and whether this story be true or false, the young lady seriously needed help and protection.

    And pardon me for this, but anyone who thinks it would be a good idea, even in the abstract, for children to just go into foster care…seriously, you need a reality check. Especially when there is a man of the means, responsibility and desire to take care of them himself—who also happens to be a Christian to boot.

    To me, this tale is a lovely, poignant story of true chivalry and honor, and there ain't nothing creepy about it. So, to the author, let me give a resounding Well Done! and here's hoping the story continues soon.

  7. starlight says:

    This story did creep me out a bit as well; it is well written, but owing to his referencing the previous stories he had written, I took it to be real! then when I began to clock that it wasn't, I became very conscious about elements of it. The age difference doesn't matter at all to me; as a female who is generally always more attracted to older men! But his creeping on her in the shower didn't sit well with me, though I get that this stuff happens. I was also quite freaked by the MH comment about parallels with the story of Ruth in the Bible; that just feels really out there! Fantasies or one thing; but do we want to give them a spiritual edge when they are close to the line? I think not! But again; just my opinion. I also think the writer really should clarify whether it is fact or fiction; I think that would influence how many of us feel about it.

  8. SecondMarge says:

    Love the picture MH.

    Having been in a couple of age-gap relationships, I understand some of the troubled comments here. Abuse is a separate but important topic worth shining light upon. Hopefully we can discuss these issues without judging and realizing we may not have all the facts or what was in their hearts.

  9. FunJames says:

    I'm glad SecondMarge commented on the picture associated with this story because I feel the same way but didn't want to feel stupid mentioning it here:) I love it because the breasts look SO much like my wife Patty. Almost wish I could send in a breast-only pic so you would know I'm telling the truth. For the sake of the fantasy, I'll just pretend it is her. 🙂 No harm, No foul.

    • CreamyPatty says:

      Well, my darling Jimmy, I just noticed your comment above.. How sweet! This is the first time we have intersected here. Cool!
      In all modesty I do see a similarity in that beautiful picture above, especially the nipples and aureoles. Thanks for the compliment sweetie.

    • SecondMarge says:

      Glad I can now put how your boobs look, lovely, with your name Patty and will think of them every time I see one of your posts. I don’t think there is anything wrong with enjoying another woman’s boobs or with a man appreciating another man’s body.

      I second Fearless' request of proof. Lol

      [For the sake of clarity and in keeping with our guidelines, we understand these as tongue-in-cheek requests and publish them as such. – MH]

  10. CreamyPatty says:

    FL, You will need to consult my hubby for proof as my melons are reserved for him, well, at least he is the only one who sees 100% of my girls! 🙂

  11. CreamyPatty says:

    Thanks for the clarification MH. It’s always nice to have someone admire me, and I enjoy the attention it brings me, to be perfectly honest. I have read enough of SecondMarge’s comments now to know I respect her and value her opinions. I also applaud her openness sexually; I too am aroused by certain female nudity images, including my own, and it’s great I can share them with my husband.
    Keep me in your thoughts, SM ;).

  12. FunJames says:

    Hi Fearless. All I can say I my first MH story will be published here soon and it will give you a pretty good insight into my little Creamy Patty. And yes, her tits really do closely resemble the photo above. I really wish I could use an actual photo of her breasts to prove my claim to you all but I assume it’s not permitted. 😉

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