Husband and wife relaxing in front of a church ~ MarriageHeat

Joyous Incarnation (L)

This story contains some strong language (L).

We live in the public eye as pillars of the community, my wife as a wholesome family physician and me as a trusted pastor, setting the tone of life at the center of town.  Being minor celebrities on par with the local weatherman, people watch us and wonder about our private life.

If they but suspected the daring carnality quivering within us both, they might feel the safe, predictable ground quake beneath their feet. With maturity, we have both become more deeply erotic, more candid about what pleases us, more willing to step beyond comfort zones observed in our former lives, and more eagerly experimental about sex—body and soul.

We are not swingers or such.  It all happens within the boundaries of the Christian covenant of marriage. But ours is the second marriage to end all second marriages. In our fantasies, we paint the town with erotic imagination.  So what does that look like in real behavior, living as a couple?

Home from morning worship, no sooner are we through the front door than Susan drops to her knees in her Sunday finery. Delighted to incite further spontaneous mischief, I go to open my trousers, whereupon she slaps my hands.  It is her cock, all hers, and she knows how to claim it. She unzips me, seizing my manhood, charming my awakened member to life. She likes the view and feel of my rigidly inflamed cock against the backdrop of the conservative suit that I preach in.

Susan claims she sucks me not only because she adores my cock and making me quiver and spasm. She also sucks me for the sake of all the church ladies sitting upon the pews in their wet panties, dying for a taste of what they secretly imagine in me or other forbidden-fruit men. She names these women, one by one, and the unveiling of their slender and voluptuous bodies dances before my closed eyes. I recall how moments before, they pressed their lovely tits against me—deliberately or innocently—in a polite receiving line, where even small inflections of interest are easily detected.  She knows which women turn my head and which not so much. She has seen their bodies at the swim club and describes their secret erotic charms hiding under their Sunday best, their primitive and simmering carnality veiled by respectable covering.

Susan’s faraway gaze finds my eyes as she works on me, sucking and teasing my bulbous tip, slapping it on her cheek, claiming no few church ladies adore pondering this very thing she alone gets to do to me.  She sucks my length demurely with the innocence of when we were excited youths unwilling to miss a single drop of a melting Popsicle on a sweltering hot day.  These days the sloppiest and wettest sex is usually the hottest. Our pleasure culminates in her jacking my seed over my suit and her dress, even dripping from her chin despite my efforts to be tidy, and defying the propriety governing our lives. That’s what dry cleaners are for, she says.

We are like Adam and Eve in the garden, living an eroticism both shameless and unselfconscious.

Susan likes me as a well-dressed authority figure whose sexuality constantly looms over her life. That is partly why so much of our arousal pivots around Sunday morning.  As the church balcony upstairs has been near empty in the summer, she has touched and fingered herself as I preach.  She told me so.  And that hatched a plan in my mind.

One night, I walked her from the adjoining parsonage to the empty historic sanctuary and led her by the hand upstairs in the dark.

“What are you doing?”

I found the spot with clear sightlines where she loves to watch me preach for her filthy fantasy of getting to fuck the pastor.

I placed her round, ripe bottom on her own personal pew cushion and lay her back. Off came the panties, exposing the already moist and swelling fruit of her loins. Susan was partly aghast and partly out of her mind at the wildness of what was happening.  When I licked and ate her smooth cunt, she spread it open with her fingers, exposing herself to full stimulus.  It’s one of the telltale ways I know she unabashedly craves full, uncompromised sexual pleasure. Women unmoved by or indifferent to sexual heat never do that. Another such sign is how she leans forward during fucking to watch my rod opening her clasping love widget as I impale her. It’s like she’s watching her own porn movie–starring Susan–as I work her hole and narrate the naughty fucking.

I can’t believe I’m pleasuring her right in church before the God who gave us these bodies and desires, the God celebrated in Song of Solomon who meant sex for us as a holy gift of fire, a godly and good thing. In our 2,000-year history, sometimes it feels like the churchmen and women with  little desire have made the rules and set the tone, making the church such a sex negative place of ridicule. That era is over.  We have the chance to be better than that, helping the lusty as beloved of God.

Susan has helped me recognize the many church women who are women of profound desire.  When men are so full of desire as this, we laud each other and get clapped on the back as heroes. When women are, they usually hide it or keep it to themselves in lonely self-pleasuring, lest they become diminished and ridiculed as sluts. Without violating boundaries with these women who dare to be honest with me about the deep and even dark sexual energy with which God has endowed them, I give them permission to be who God made them to be. I get to affirm them for being erotically gifted, blessing them where they only found a curse before.  Sometimes church women attempt to shock me with what they confidentially share, but I remain nonplussed, letting them know the boundaries for the real truth of our lives need not be policed, at least not by me.

Susan got insanely wet as my licking smeared her fragrant elixir all over my face while it dripped down her crack. How did she get so soaking, I wondered?  Is it the bawdy forbiddenness of sex in a place made holy, or did she today give summer physicals to high school athletes built like Greek gods? Anyway, I vowed to spare her nothing in this singular moment we will always remember during my long pastorate at that church.

Loved properly, Susan is regularly capable of multiple rolling orgasms, with hypersensitive aftershocks for minutes afterward.  Working her up into that impossible lather, licking and fucking, I pulled out, glistening.

“We make this spot holy,” I declared, stroking my importunate and assertive rod, ready to mark that spot.  When Susan saw me jacking my unapologetic manhood, her hand immediately worked between her legs.  We both ramped up desire, taunting and teasing each other about being out of control until I squirted like a schoolboy.

Do you know that quiet, pregnant moment before the sermon begins? The preacher mounts the pulpit, gathers his wits and resolve, settles and surveys the congregation, establishes eye contact, and only then opens his mouth to speak.  In that moment, I always look at Susan in the balcony, and we smirk at each other.  People find it a quaint, innocent, and endearing little habit.  Only you know why.

To be continued.

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6 replies
  1. CrazyHappyLoved says:

    I'm always encouraged by the [people who say they are] pastors here who have super-hot sex lives with their spouses. Believing that God is present where ever two or more of his people are gathered in his name, I have no problem with godly sex in the church office or storage room, so why does it give me pause when it occurs in the sanctuary after hours, especially in "her" spot? It makes no sense. I've decided that the important part of this story is that your wife builds you up in your own eyes (very important), that you each are open to new experiences, and that you seem to be one of the few pastors who aren't afraid to let your flock know, at least in counseling, that their sexuality is a gift from God to them and their spouses. Reading how you live that out with your own wife is a blessing to me, even as it challenges me.

    • LovingMan says:

      CHL I also was uncomfortable with the sex in the sanctuary… or I was at first. Then I thought about Hebrews 13:4, “Marriage is honorable among all, and the bed undefiled;”
      …and them having marital sex in the sanctuary didn’t bother me anymore. If they were doing that and not being married it would feel like they were defiling the sanctuary. But not if they were married. I realized that they did nothing wrong or sinful in any way… so the sanctuary was not defiled.
      Far too many Christian leaders have vilified sex so much in the past. I think we may all suffer from some fallout from that past. I know you agree with this but I thought I’d say it anyway.
      I agree with you that it is refreshing to read about pastors who celebrate marital sex with their spouses and also counsel their flock to enjoy that part of themselves.
      And I’d add that MH teaches us to celebrate our marital sex.
      Final thought: I loved how erotically charged this couple is. My wife and I (before retirement) were well-respected professionals and she taught sometimes at a Christian college as well. I laugh inside when I think of how shocked her students & our co-workers would have been if they had known what she and I get up to in the bedroom, in the car, in the shower etc. I suspect that quite a few married Christians have an erotic sex life within their marriage that would be surprising to others.
      And SultrySoulful… you and your wife keep up the good you are doing for your community and keep enjoying the wonderful sex life you share. Thanks for writing and posting this. You are both an inspiration!

  2. Banana says:

    I’m imagining this story involving various pastors I’ve had. Some mental images are funnier than others, and I don’t think any of them would be bold enough to do this with their spouses

  3. QueenandHubbie says:

    Hubbie here. This story was a huge turn-on, not only for the sex, but also for the philosophical underpinnings. I’ve been saying this stuff for years and had to promise Queen I didn’t ghost-write it.

    I think Christians should be upstanding members of their communities, AND rip it up with each other, passion-wise, “within the boundaries of the Christian covenant of marriage.” I’ve called this boundary “The Six”, representing the (surprisingly few) specific sexual prohibitions in the Bible. I know there may be more or variations, but Six seemed to stick.

    I loved your wife’s “ownership” of your cock (“It is her cock, all hers, and she knows how to claim it.”), not in a bdsm sense, but it seemed to recognize the “one flesh” entity that marriage creates. In a business sense, she’s behaving like an entrepreneur owner, not a disengaged employee. And of course, this should be all reciprocal between our wives and their delightful parts!

    “We are like Adam and Eve in the garden, living an eroticism both shameless and unselfconscious.” Exactly! Rip. It. Up!

    “In our 2,000-year history, sometimes it feels like the churchmen and women with little desire have made the rules and set the tone, making the church such a sex negative place of ridicule.” IMHO, I agree but also add that “church” seems to play to “the weak link”. If one person could have problems with something (unabashed, wild sex), then all should avoid it completely. I don’t think that’s the right application of not causing a brother to stumble.

    Finally, “In that moment, I always look at Susan in the balcony, and we smirk at each other.” I think “freely passionate” Christian marriages should be so unfettered (within The Six) that they can’t help but have an endearing “look” that privately means “My lust for you knows no bounds, and will be coming to take you as urgently as possible. You will be wild-fucked!”

    Thanks for the post!

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