The Bishop’s Hotwife: Part 1

 The Bishop’s Hotwife: Part 1When Mormon mothers go wild, they go really wild.Based on a post by Wendy Trilby, in 5 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Chapter 0: Gideon's Dilemma.Despite living in a large home with four brothers and two sisters, Gideon Barton had little privacy. When you're 18 just about everything gives you an erection and most young men turn to porn for relief.But in Gideon's strict Mormon household, his father, The Bishop, a respected pillar of the church, imposed restrictions on internet access, computers, and phones. Visiting sites like Pornhub or Literotica was nearly impossible.But then again, nothing's as vivid as the mind of a horny teen, and Gideon could create fantasies from just about anything. He had masturbated to thoughts of the weather girl on channel 5, several of his teachers, and right now, his mother's good friend, Kristi Haskett. It was the Barton's big summer backyard barbeque and Mrs. Haskett had just emerged from the pool with firm, erect nipples poking through her bathing suit. She went for her towel, but the image of her thick nipples tenting the nylon of her modest swimsuit would remain burned in his memory to be recalled for countless masturbation sessions in the days to come.That's all it took to make Gideon's balls swell. He needed to masturbate right now. With two brothers and two sisters plus a houseful of guests for the cookout, jerking off in a bathroom wasn't going to happen.That wasn't an issue for Gideon as he entered the spacious car barn to conduct his personal business. Much more than just a garage, The Bishop had built the car barn to house his collection of cars, cars he felt promoted his masculinity. The barn housed seven vehicles and the family's Gulfstream trailer.Gideon noticed how dusty his dad's 19 74 green Bronco was. He coveted this vehicle, even if that was a sin. His mom was trying to convince his dad to let him take it to college after his mission. After all, he was an adult, and his mother believed he needed to take on responsibilities, like owning a car.But right now, he needed to masturbate and quietly entered his go-to spot, the Gulfstream trailer.This had become his favorite place to masturbate. It was private, and he could concentrate on his fantasy as he stroked himself.Getting some hand lotion from the bathroom, he sat on the couch, pulled his shorts down, and lathered himself up. Gently grasping his cock, he began slowly gliding up and down the shaft.He closed his eyes and imagined Mrs. Haskett taking him by the hand behind the garage and showing him her tits. She held them out for him, offering him one to feed on.This wasn't going to take long. He could feel his balls swelling and then;He heard the side door to the car barn open and someone entered.Fuck, not now.Mrs. Haskett's tits would have to wait. He could hear two people talking in hushed tones."Wow, is this what you wanted to show me? It's great. Look at the condition. This is wonderful."The voice was familiar, and Gideon moved to the window to see who it was."Want to see something even better?" came a voice he recognized as his mother's voice. Why was she in here?He peered into the car barn, trying to see who she was talking to and if they were going to leave.Looking out, he saw his mother leaning back on the hood of his father's green Bronco like a teenage girl flirting on a date.Whomever it was, Gideon felt he was way too close to his mother. She then turned around, leaned forward, and her skirt hiked up slightly, but not enough to reveal anything. Reaching back, she flipped it up exposing her soft white ass.Gideon nearly fell over in shock. What was she doing?Just then, he could see the face of the other person. It was Ethan Bryant. He lived next door; he was in his last year of law school in Boston and home for the summer, clerking for The Bishop. He was probably around 25 or 26 years old."You wore the red lingerie," Ethan said with a lascivious smile.Gideon’s mother was always talking about Ethan's success at law school and kept encouraging Gideon to use him as a role model."That's not all," his mother replied to Ethan as she put her thumbs in the bands of her panties pulling them down to reveal her bare ass. Ethan's eyes were fixated on her behind. Gideon strained to see, but from his angle, there was no looking into that dark abyss."How long have you;""All day. Just for you," she interrupted."Oh my God. How does it feel?" Ethan asked.Gideon's mind was racing. How does what feel? Did she get some kind of piercing? What was he looking at?"Full, I feel wonderful, but full. I had a spontaneous orgasm about an hour ago. I was sitting there, and it hit me when I was talking to Sara Carlton. She asked if I was Okay."Gideon remembered noticing his mother shivering earlier when she was talking to Mrs. Carlton. What the hell was going on?"You're amazing," Ethan said in a loud whisper.Gideon's mother remained slumped over the car."Make it fast," she replied.Ethan had his cock in hand in seconds. Gideon's eyes were wide. This was it. He was going to see someone have sex. Not just someone, his mother. He resigned himself to worry about that later.Gideon watched as Ethan gently inserted himself into his mother from behind. She let out a long, plaintive groan, enjoying the moment.Gideon thought he should run out there and put an end to this.But he didn't.Above anything in the world, he wanted to see people having sex. And here it was, just fifteen feet from him, a man riding an older woman from behind. They were carnal, and they were desperate. Never mind that it was his mother; this was sex, raw and unbridled, and he began to masturbate as he watched.His mother's pelvis hitched as Ethan began increasing his cadence. It started slow, but they were picking up the pace.Her red panties were now around her ankles. Her torso lay flat against the Bronco, and her face was a portrait of bliss.If there was any doubt his mother wasn't a willing participant, the wet sounds of her pussy, and her less than muffled moans testified just how much she was enjoying the moment.Gideon continued to stroke himself, pacing with the couple, not wanting to blow his load too soon.His mother put her hands back, grasping her ass cheeks and spreading them, offering Ethan a better view of his target.Then, out of nowhere, Ethan pulled himself out, revealing his sizable cock, dropped to his knees and planted his face in between her ass cheeks. The sounds of his mouth on her pussy echoed off the walls."We don't have time for you to;"Gideon's mother never finished her sentence as she froze with pleasure."Oh, that fucking tongue of yours. That motherfucking tongue of yours."From his hiding spot, Gideon was about to hyperventilate, having never heard his mother say anything more substantial than "darn it.”Ethan stood, wiped the wetness from his face and then returned to fucking Gideon's mother from behind.Their body friction increased, and it was evident the two were to about cum, as was Gideon. Mrs. Barton groaned loudly, followed by a metallic clank on the floor like someone had dropped a tool.The two lovers didn't seem to notice or care and kept at each other, intent on reaching a mutual climax quickly. While Gideon's only experience with orgasm was his own, he watched his mother plateau, determined to burn the memory into his brain.Inside the trailer Gideon was about to cum despite slow strokes, just the visuals were enough to finish him off. When he heard his mother's final groan he felt his balls swell and his cock erupted in a geyser of cum spraying on the walls and window.With his pants around his knees, he staggered back and knocked over a box of cooking utensils, making a slight but audible clatter.Fuck!Gideon looked out the window again. The sound had spooked the two as his mother pulled up her panties and flipped back her dress, while Ethan zipped his shorts and straightened up.She then led Ethan out of one of the side doors.When Gideon was sure they were gone, he quietly exited the trailer and walked to the Bronco. The dust on the hood was disturbed, showing the buxom outline of a woman's body. On the floor was a puddle of what could only be spent cum and his mother's fluids combined.Gideon took a rag and wiped off the dust, wiping off any evidence, then took the rag to wipe up the fluids on the ground. On his knees, he noticed something shiny under the Bronco. Reaching for it, he held it in his hand; a metallic gold ass plug, covered in a sheen lube and a bejeweled handle.He knew what he had to do.Chapter 1: The Homecoming.Two years of law school were behind me, and I was returning home to Provo for my last summer. I was happy to be going home and sleeping in my old room, and equally excited that my neighbor, Bishop Barton, had secured me a legal clerking internship in his firm.There was no better way to finish a successful law degree than clerking for Utah's most prestigious law firm, Pratt, Collins, and Barton.I can't remember the last time I heard anyone call Rob Barton by his name. He was known as "The Bishop" due to his high standing in the LDS Church. That's the term that Mormons preferred, with LDS meaning The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Although they did use the term "Mormon," that name was sometimes used in a pejorative way. Thus, using LDS avoided any possible negative connotations.The Bishop was a mountain of a man, imposing and always the center of attention. Despite having been our neighbor for as long as I can remember, I rarely spoke to him, but my dad and The Bishop's wife had secured me this internship last year.Then the worst happened. My father passed away suddenly ten months ago. At just 25 years old, I had faced the loss of both my parents. My mother had died when I was only three, leaving Dad and me together all those years. Our relationship was rocky at times, but he always supported me and kept me focused on a prosperous future. I felt his absence deeply now that he was gone.He was disappointed that I had left the Mormon faith. It wasn't that I questioned the faith itself, but all faith. Still, I was respectful of his beliefs and those of my LDS neighbors.Living in Provo meant having LDS neighbors everywhere. Honestly, I can't think of a better place and better people. Despite the slurs and jokes about the faith, my LDS neighbors were some of the kindest people on earth. When Dad died, The Bishop and his wife, Amanda, traveled to Harvard to convince me to stay in school and finish. He reminded me how important it was to my Dad that I get that degree and assured me of the clerkship. Mrs. Barton promised to take care of my dad's home. They came through on both accounts.These were good people, and I felt fortunate to have pillars of society in my life.Mrs. Barton was younger than The Bishop and could have been a recruiting poster for Mormon wives. She was sporty, with blond, shoulder-length hair that framed her face effortlessly. She had an attractive figure, and her larger-than-average tits always caught the church dads' attention; and their wives. But if there was one feature that could stop me in my tracks, it was her smile. It made me feel welcomed and safe.I grew up with the Bartons. I was seven when they bought the huge house next door. My memories of Mrs. Barton are that she was always pregnant. She had her first child, Gideon, that year, and then it seemed like she was always expecting right up until last year when she had her fifth child. Perhaps that explained her large tits, which I must confess, I'd sneak a peek at whenever I could.Mrs. Barton was a traditional wife who began by having children to continually increase the LDS population. She was always busy, driving carpool, cooking meals, and doing everything necessary to support The Bishop's vital role as a community and church leader. The affectionate term for a woman devoted to her husband and family was helpmeet. As in, she was The Bishop's helpmeet.Of course, being seen and at the center of attention due to her husband's status caused some jealousy, and some of the catty mothers called her the "More Mom," which is a bit of a slur, especially coming from other members of the LDS faith, demeaning her role to merely being attracted to the attention she received from her status.I found an Amazon package at the door when I arrived home. After taking it inside, I turned on the lights. The place was clean and bright for a home that hadn't been lived in for several months. Mrs. Barton had undoubtedly ensured it was cheerful upon my return.I sorted through the stack of mail, opening some items and throwing away others, and then remembered the Amazon package. Opening it up, I was surprised to see a delicate but revealing lingerie set. I held up the red thong and bustier top, wondering where they had come from. Looking back in the box, I found a sex toy, the Womanizer. It was a vibrating suction toy that only added to the mystery.I looked at the box and noticed that it was addressed to me, but I certainly didn't order this. I put the items back in the box and set it aside.A day later, I was finishing my paperwork for the clerk internship when I heard someone at the door.I opened it to see Mrs. Barton, who walked into the house as if it belonged to her. I understood her actions because she had cared for it for so long."Come on in," I said with a joking smile. She looked at me with a smirk."Sorry, I just barged in, didn't I? I'm so used to coming over here and just decompressing."She gave me a warm hug, pressing herself against me."Welcome home, Bryant. We have missed you. I've missed you."I smelled toast burning and rushed to the kitchen. She followed me. It was burnt, so I tossed it out and poured myself a cup of coffee.I had never tasted coffee until my first year of law school. Shunned by the LDS faith as a stimulant, I avoided it until midterms, but after my first cup, I was hooked."Coffee? Tisk tisk, what'll I ever tell The Bishop?""Law school, late nights. If this is a sin, let me be burned at the stake," I replied."I'm sure it can be overlooked. You know how many exceptions we must make to keep the faith. I had a Long Island iced tea a few weeks ago."Mormons don't drink coffee, and they sure as hell don't drink alcohol, let alone a strong drink like a Long Island Iced Tea."I was out with some friends who weren't from church. They had wine, and I innocently asked for tea. Well, I said Long Island Iced Tea. I assumed it was like a tea and lemonade drink.""That's an Arnold Palmer," I added."So, I found out. I took a sip and instantly realized it wasn't made with lemonade."She leaned in with a conspiratorial look."Can you keep a secret, Bryant?"I nodded yes."I drank the entire drink, and by the end, I was, well, my head was spinning. I think I did a pretty good job of pretending to be sober, but I wasn't. I returned to the suburban, crawled in, and fell asleep for three hours.""Just from the one drink?""Well, I had a Xanax earlier, so that combo did not help."I looked at her quizzically."It's a prescription for stress. It's allowed."While Mormons don't use recreational drugs, many of the women I knew had prescriptions for anxiety. I felt guilty because my expression made her think I was judging her."Of all the drinks you could order, that's like a nuclear bomb.""Do you drink, Bryant? You drink coffee; do you also drink at bars?"I wasn't sure if this was a test. Was she doing some recon for The Bishop?"Me? No, I don't drink alcohol."That was a lie.She looked at me and studied my face."You wouldn't lie to me, now, would you?""No, I don't; ""Have you ever experienced something so intense, so incredible that you wonder how God would make it criminal to enjoy? Like wine, for instance. Jesus drank wine, why can't we?""The Catholics certainly do," I replied."Oh my God, even Catholics are having more fun than us," she bemoaned, "and they are always miserable.""I don't usually question the doctrines of the faith," I replied.I was attempting to evade the question. She was probing, and I wasn't sure what she was after."Of course not. Neither do I. So, we'll keep this story about the Long Island iced tea between us? I can trust you?""If you can keep my coffee addiction between us," I replied."Bryant, you can trust me to keep secrets. I'm a vault when it comes to this stuff. I know what it's like to have secrets, so anything you share with me. It's in the vault.""Coffee in the vault. Got it.""Can I try some?" she asked."Try what?""Your coffee.""Are you sure? It's bitter. Kind of acquired taste. And I don't want to get you in trouble.""I'm a big girl. Plus, I don't think my husband will cast me out into the wilderness for trying some coffee. He always encourages me to try new things."I held out the cup, and she took it in hand, inhaling the rich scent."It smells so good. I sometimes wander into a Starbucks just to breathe the air. It almost makes me shiver with excitement. You don't think caffeine is airborne, do you?""No, I don't."I was anxious to see her taste the coffee. There was something about witnessing a grown woman, a devoted believer, break her promise to her faith before me.It was a far cry from any real sin; it was just a sip of coffee; but the fact that she was doing this before me held an unusual sensuality. I licked my lips as she brought the cup to her mouth.She took a long sip, let it sit in her mouth, and then swallowed."Wow, that's not what I thought it would taste like. I was hoping for something like the Long Island iced tea.""Well, if I had some Kahlua and vodka, I could make this more of a fun drink.""Do you have any?" she asked."Uh, no. My dad didn't drink, so no.""Too bad. I could like coffee if it had something fun in it."Looking around the kitchen, she noticed the pile of mail."Oh, that reminds me. I had a package from Amazon sent here."Oh shit! That was hers?"I didn't see anything. Why would you send it here?""Well, nothing gets into our house without one of the kids opening it. They're just feminine products, so I sent them here. I don't need my kids looking through my tampons and breast pads."I looked at her, confused. She could see I didn't understand."I'm still breastfeeding John-John. I know it's time to wean him, but I've been pregnant more than not pregnant this past 18 years, and so, well, I leak a lot.""You leak a lot?"I was still confused."My tits leak. Mostly if I don't express myself or feed John-John, it can be kind of embarrassing."I realized I was getting the bio lesson in that I did not want to hear."I'm sorry, Bryant, I guess I just feel comfortable around you and start blabbering. You don't need a lecture on my bodily functions.""No, that's fine. I'm glad you feel like that. I've always felt like you were someone I could talk to, so yeah, if you want to complain, I'm your guy."Mrs. Barton looked at me with a smile."You're one of the good ones, Ethan. Never change. Well, I've got to get back to the house because I've been gone 20 minutes, and there is a good chance someone has set the kitchen on fire. You know that happened once.""Mrs. Barton, anytime you need to decompress. Come on over. You've got the door code; lie on the couch and sleep.""I will. Thank you. And we're all adults now, so how about no more Mrs. Barton and you call me Amanda?"I smiled."Amanda. Amanda, it is.""Oh, you'll let me know when that package arrives. Will you?"With that, she left. I watched her walk away, somewhat enamored with her. She had been so open, so relaxed, and so honest and felt more like a friend than the mom next door. It was nice she could confide in me about the struggles of family and religion.I picked up the open Amazon box, took out the lingerie, and held it up to the light.There was significantly less clothing than what most devout LDS women wore under their clothing. What little cloth there was, was transparent, primarily mesh. The thong was crotchless, and the bra appeared to cover only below the nipples.I couldn't help but imagine Mrs. Barton wearing this. For a mother of five, she was remarkably fit. She wore sensible clothing, including sporty attire from Brooks Brothers and Lululemon, always maintaining a certain degree of modesty.The thought of her wanting to wear this outfit made me see her in a different light. Clearly, it was for her intimate moments with The Bishop, and I felt awful for invading her privacy.I put the box back together and ran a fresh strip of tape down the opening. It wasn't nearly perfect, but I'd tell her it came that way and probably got damaged in transit.I waited a day, then texted her that the package was here and that I'd bring it over.I'll come to get it, was her immediate reply.A few minutes later, she arrived at the door, carrying several containers of Tupperware. She brushed past me into the kitchen and began to load them into the fridge."I made some meals, so you don't just live on cold cereal.""I can cook," I replied in mock defensiveness.The truth is, I actually was living on cold cereal, and the idea of a home-cooked meal was a welcome invitation.I had paused the movie I was watching on Netflix. She stopped to look at the TV set."Is this White Lotus?" She asked."I think so.""I have a confession," she said. "When I came over to look after the house, I treated myself to watching Outlander on your Netflix.""Outlander?"I had no idea what that was."It's a series, a good one. It involves time travel and a woman who's married to two men at two different times: the 19 41 in England, and then Scotland in 17 10.""Wow, that sounds complicated.""Oh, it is. It's like a soap opera but with lots of gratuitous sex. I mean really good sex.""Oh, well, now I'll have to watch it," I said, realizing how awkward the response was."Well, you can watch porn over here. So maybe the sex on Outlander isn't so wild.""You can't watch the series at home?""No, The Bishop has all our TV sets filtered to PG-13 or less. Even if I try using my phone, he has all our phones filtered, and gets nanny reports if anyone searches strong words.""Nanny reports?""Software that alerts him to anything against the teachings of the church. Which is just about everything. So, I come here to watch the show. You won't tell, will you?""Haven't we been through this? You have my promise that your secrets are safe with me. Remember, we shared coffee, so we're deep in. Oh, I have your Amazon package."I handed her the box, which she examined, and noticed the fresh tape."Did you open this?""Me? No. It arrived like that. Perhaps it was opened by mistake. They must have resealed it."She studied me like I was one of her children lying about eating candy before dinner."Great. I might have a few more deliveries. I'll let you know when they arrive. Are you okay with that?""More personal care items?" I asked.Mrs. Barton looked at the box and then right into my eyes. She was using her mom's skills to discern the truth from me."Ethan, did you open this box?"God damn, she was good. I had a million lies I wanted to tell, but the truth seemed the easiest path."I didn't know it was for you. I didn't know, and I'm sorry."She laughed as she pulled open the tape."Lousy job trying to reseal it. Don't apply to work at Amazon."She opened the box and took out the lingerie and held it up, showing it to me."Sorry," was all I could mutter."It's fine. It's just some underwear and a personal care item. You can understand why I didn't want this to come to my house. The Bishop would disapprove.""You didn't buy that to wear for him?"Mrs. Barton kept on admiring the skimpy outfit."I bought it for myself."She put down the outfit and looked at me."You're familiar with the sacred garments, right?"I was somewhat familiar. The sacred garments, which are often called magic underwear by non-Mormons, are a bland nylon top and bottom worn by LDS men and women under their clothing.You had to have gone on a mission or been married in the church to qualify to wear them. I had done neither, nor did I desire to."My dad wore them," I replied."That's right. He did. Well, they're not very flattering. I do my best to stay in shape. I drop down to my perfect weight after each child, and my tits remain big and appealing. I put in the work. And I like what I get to see, when I look at myself in the mirror."She lifted her shirt slightly to reveal the unattractive white garment she wore underneath."But then I have to put on this thing. It's uncomfortable, not flattering, makes me sweat, and sure as hell isn't sexy.""You don't have to wear it," I interrupted. "I know lots of faithful people who don't.""I wear it out of respect for my husband. The Bishop is a good provider. He has his rules, and we all obey them; one is for me to wear my garments. So, I do.""So why the lingerie?""I don't know. It's my tiny bit of rebellion. When I would come here, I'd put on the lingerie, watch my shows, and sometimes use my personal care items."Personal care? Is she talking about masturbation? I thought to myself.She was sneaking off to my house to masturbate. My mind was reeling at the thought of this attractive mother of five, in her early forties, masturbating in my house."I hope you don't mind, but I keep it all in a drawer in your dad's room. I can't bring it home."I wanted to race to the dresser and see what was hiding there.Mrs. Barton held up the sex toy. It looked like a hairbrush with a small rubber circle at the end."The toys help me relax; and have a little fun."I realized I hadn't asked her to explain any of this. She had unloaded. The woman wanted someone to talk to, and without asking me to listen, she was listing her issue with being a traditional wife."I'll take everything out of the drawer and throw it away," she said with a hint of shame."No, you don't have to do that. I go to the office several times a week. Come over, wear your outfits, watch TV shows, and do whatever you want with the toys."She looked at me with a grateful smile, not ready to give up this small act of rebellion."I can trust you with this secret?" she asked."We have been over that," I replied.Besides, who would I tell? Certainly not The Bishop. Giving her access to my house for her "personal care" time would not endear me to the man."Thanks, Ethan, I really need this. Your house has been my sanctuary, and I want to keep it that way."So, we made our arrangement. She would come over when I was away and do God knows what, while I'd say nothing.She gave me a tight hug, and I could feel her heavy tits on me. Perhaps it was no different than any other hug she'd given me in the past, but the talk of lingerie, masturbation, and our pact to keep it all a secret, completely sexualized the hug.When she left, I took the lingerie and toy and ran to my father's room, opening several drawers until I found it; a drawer full of lingerie, each piece more decadent than the other. I also found a variety of sex toys and several bottles of flavored lube."Oh, Mrs. Barton," I said aloud, "what have you been up to?"I felt myself harden and sat back on the bed. I pulled my pants down, slathered on some lube, and began to masturbate. I held up a crotch-less bustier and imagined Mrs. Barton wearing it. I brought the garment to my face, hoping it had not been laundered. It smelled of soap and softener, so no luck.But my mind was able to create a scent for Mrs. Barton, and in a matter of minutes, I ejaculated into the garment. I probably shouldn't have, but I wanted to share myself with her, and leaving my semen in the crotch of her panties would suffice. Besides, it would disappear when it dried.Two days later, I was working at my clerkship when my phone alerted me to someone at the door. I opened the app and saw Mrs. Barton coming in. This would undoubtedly be one of her private sessions. My mind raced, and I could not concentrate, thinking of the attractive middle-aged mom who was in my house wearing lingerie and masturbating.When I returned home, everything was normal. However, I found a note on the bathroom counter and a new pair of lingerie. The note asked me to wash the garment on the delicate setting and hang it to dry.I picked it up and inhaled. The pair was soiled. I could smell sweat, and as I moved my nose to the gusset of the garment, I smelled her essence. Mrs. Barton's pussy smelled rich with herbs; there was a dark floral smell that reminded me of figs. As the aroma filled my olfactory senses, my cock swelled with blood. I didn't want to clean it. I put my nose deep in the fabric and found it still wet. I inhaled it repeatedly, getting a forbidden rush with each huff.I obeyed her wishes and put them in the washer. Although I did wonder why she didn't do that herself. Perhaps she was in a rush. I'd ask her the next time I saw her.It was a Tuesday, my work-at-home day, when I returned from a morning run to smell bacon cooking in the kitchen."Mrs. Barton?"I entered the kitchen to see Mrs. Barton preparing pancakes, eggs, and bacon."Happy birthday!" she said, running up and giving me a deep, warm hug."Oh, I'm so sweaty from the run," I declared.Mrs. Barton's comings and goings at my house made the fact that she was randomly making breakfast hardly unusual."A little sweat is not going to stop me from giving you a birthday hug."She held me tight; I could smell her fresh scent, making me more self-conscious about my sweaty body."The Bishop took the kids to his mother's house for two days. She's in St. George. I can't stand the woman and draw a hard line against seeing her. Anyway, I saw you take off for a run and wanted to surprise you.""Well, this is a surprise. So, thank you. I'll take a shower, and I'll eat.""It's ready now. Eat as you are, and we'll get you showered later."We'll get you showered?A slip of the tongue, perhaps? I scolded myself again for thinking untoward thoughts about such a generous person."Ok, fine. I'm going to make myself a coffee. I'll pour you some if you want.""I have a surprise for you," she said, handing me a bag containing a bottle of Bailey's, Vodka, and Kahlua."You said this would make coffee taste better."I looked at the bottles and Mrs. Barton."Really? Yeah, this makes for a killer cup of coffee.""Well, I want to try that killer cup then.""I don't think The Bishop would approve.""You can let me worry about The Bishop. Everything I do is for the betterment of my family and our place in the Church, which requires endless work. If I want to enjoy a little coffee with a kick with my friend, I assure you, The Bishop will approve.""Okay, fine. I understand, and I completely support you. You do so much for me; I'm not even part of your family. You deserve some time for yourself.""Thank you. So, pour me a cup!"I poured her a cup of coffee, putting in several ounces of Bailey's and Kahlua."Don't forget the vodka," she scolded.I handed her the mug."Sip it. This is stronger than it tastes."She took the mug, took a sip, and closed her eyes as she swallowed the warm elixir."Wow," she whispered.We sat down and began to eat the magnificent breakfast she had prepared."I had a Jewish friend growing up, Shoshona," she began."Her dad was a rabbi, so they were very religious, and they were kosher. But there was a fine line. They had a kosher kitchen, but they also had a non-kosher kitchen downstairs."She sipped the coffee, closing her eyes to enjoy the buzz."They followed their religion, but there were times when they stepped outside the strict rules and had a little fun. Like maybe pizza with pork sausage and other things that were not even close to kosher. They would cook non-kosher meals downstairs. Being the good little Mormon girl I was, I asked how they could justify this. The Rabbi reminded me that religion is complicated. No one is perfect, and we all stray from the path now and again."She hesitated, then continued her story."He chose to have an un-kosher kitchen downstairs so they could bend the rules a little and have fun. But when it came to family and the ways of Torah, they always had the kosher kitchen.""So, they used a second kitchen to cheat on their faith," I said with a condescending laugh."They used it to taste the forbidden fruit, and that kept their faith strong."She took a long drink of her spiked coffee, savored it, and looked around."This is my un-kosher kitchen.""Well, your kitchen isn't kosher either.""No, I mean your house. It's where I can come and bend the rules a little. It's where I can let down my hair and not be the More Mom.""You've heard that?""More Mom? Oh, yeah, I know they say that. Kristi, Sara, all my LDS moms, I know they call me that.""Perhaps they're just jealous because of everything you have going for you. Perfect family, important husband; ""I know they're being catty, but I kind of like the title. More Mom. If I'm making the other moms jealous, I must be doing something right.""More is always better in my book," I added."I know, right? Like, let's have more fun coffee!""I just hope The Bishop never finds out because he's got my future in his hands.""What happens in the non-kosher kitchen stays in the non-kosher kitchen, Ethan."With that, Mrs. Barton tussled my hair and finished her spiked coffee."The non-kosher kitchen," I replied with a smile. "I like that.""Such a smart young man. You're going to make a woman very happy someday. Now, how about a refill?"She stood up with a slight wobble."Maybe you space it out a little."She spotted a new Amazon box that had just arrived and tore it open with the excitement of a child on Christmas day."Oh yes, it's my red bodysuit! Oh, I can't wait to try this on. Look at those roses embroidered on it."She held up the lingerie, a transparent mesh one-piece outfit in red. There were cutouts for the tits, the crotch was open, and there was no fabric other than a bow on the backside."You like?"I sure as hell did and nodded my head."You want me to try it on? I so want to try it on.""Well, you can try it in my dad's old room. Plenty of privacy there."She took the lingerie and headed out with excitement."Bring me a fresh cup of non-kosher coffee when you come up.""Come up?""Well, I can't come down with this thing on, so if you want to see it, you'll have to come up."With that, I heard her rushing up the stairs. I went to the coffee maker and refilled her mug, then added the three liquors and realized my hand was shaking. She had just invited me upstairs to model lingerie. Or maybe I misheard. That's it; I must have misunderstood her.I ascended the stairs and arrived at the master suite to find the door closed.I knocked."Mrs. Barton. I brought up another cup of coffee. You want me to leave it here?""Bring it in," she said.I steeled myself, ready to see her in that red lingerie. My heart pounded as I opened the door and.She was in the master bathroom, which was off the master bedroom."You did not tell me that coffee makes you poop," she said from beyond the door."Yeah, it can have that effect."I felt both let down and relieved. I sat on the bed and examined the lingerie, trying to imagine her wearing it.I heard the toilet flush, and she emerged from the bathroom, closing the door behind her."I never poop outside of my home. Never. I need to take a shower now.""A shower? Now?""I always take a shower after I poop. It's a cleanliness issue. I've trained myself to poop each morning before The Bishop wakes, and then I take my morning shower. I like to be clean down there in case The Bishop needs me to perform my wifely duties.""Wow, you really are the More Mom."She picked up her second coffee and began to drink it. I felt bummed because I was enjoying my morning with her and didn't want her to leave to take a shower."Hey," she said, giving me a playful whack, "I like to be clean. What's wrong with that?""Why don't you take a shower here?"As soon as I spoke, I could feel how awkward it sounded.But she didn't even flinch at the idea and drank more coffee."Look to see if your dad left any good shampoo."I frantically opened the bathroom cupboard and rummaged through countless bottles of shampoo. Why my dad had so many shampoos remains an eternal mystery.Um, there's Head and Shoulders, a bottle of Suave peach shampoo, and this, looks expensive; Biolage Hydra source shampoo."That's one I use," she said. "That's the one I need."I handed her the bottle. She looked at me with a long, hard stare to ensure we understood each other."Non-kosher kitchen," she said."Non-kosher kitchen," I confirmed."Now, turn around and head back to the bedroom."I just stood there, and I'm sure my face betrayed my disappointment."If you thought I'd give you a free shower show, you were sadly mistaken.""Me? What? No?" I said in a panic. Again, I had red the room wrong."I'll wait downstairs.""Just sit on the bed and close the bathroom door halfway so I can have some privacy, and we can talk."I obediently followed her instructions, closing the door halfway, blocking my view of the shower.She turned on the water, and I heard her step into the shower and close the door. Perhaps she wanted me to join her. Still sweaty and needing a shower, I stood up, walked to the door, and hesitated."So, when was the last time you went to church?" she asked."Other than my dad's funeral, not since undergrad. About five years.""Oh, you're a bad boy. Would you like to join us at church? I'm sure The Bishop would be happy to see you there."The last thing I wanted was to attend church. Not only had I left the LDS faith, but I had also lost my belief in a higher power. However, it was impossible to say no to her, and earning brownie points with The Bishop would be beneficial."Um, sure. Of course.""Great, next Sunday, you'll join my family. We go to church in the morning and return home for a big meal. Of course, The Bishop has to go to the Temple in the afternoon.The LDS temples were sacred and only open to members of the faith in good standing. While Mrs. Barton was qualified to attend the temple in the afternoon, her children could not, until they had completed their mission. As a traditional wife, she would stay home to care for her family."Tell me about law school." She asked from the shower. "You know, I didn't even ask if you had a girlfriend or something.""No girlfriend. I did, but she left the school, and it ended.""Well, now that you're almost in the real world. There'll be a lot of opportunities.""I'm just focusing on my career right now. If someone comes along, that's great, but job prospects are my focus.""Smart boy. That's why you want to keep The Bishop happy. He knows everyone. I had to beg him to give you this clerkship.""Really? Doesn't he like me?""Not you; he wasn't a big fan of your father. I mean, he was very sad when he died. But they didn't get along very well. I was kind of the buffer between them.""My dad always spoke well of you. He said you were the only person I should trust.""He said that about me? My God, how nice is that? I miss him."I could hear the shower turn off and the door slide open."I guess I owe you for making The Bishop take me on," I said. "I'd be screwed without this internship."Mrs. Barton came out of the bathroom wearing my dad's old bathrobe."Fucked. You can say the big boy words here in the non-kosher kitchen.""I'd be fucked," I repeated.Mrs. Barton giggled and drank the rest of her spiked coffee, then came over and sat on the bed near me, her back propped up on the pillows, and let out a relaxing sigh."I love this. Just letting my hair down and having some innocent fun. I don't believe God would mind. Even though The Bishop and the kids are gone, I can't do this at home. I'd feel so filthy.""Well, if this big old empty house can serve as your private haven," I said, "then I'm glad I still have it. I hope my being here this summer doesn't mess that up."She sat up and leaned over to pick up the Amazon box."On the contrary, I love having someone to break the rules with."She held up the lingerie and examined it."What do you think? Be honest. Is it trashy?""What are you going for?""Someone trashy who is not the More Mom," she replied flatly."Yeah, it's fucking trashy. But it's super sexy. I think it's great.""How about you try it on for me?" she said matter-of-factly.I froze. My heart began to race and I could hear my pulse in my ears."You want me to try it on? But it's women's lingerie.""Please. I really want to see how it looks on a person. For me?"She made an adorable pouting face."I don't know”"After all I did for you. Can't you do me this small favor?""But The Bishop; " I said, trying to look for an out."Non-kosher kitchen. What we cook in this house stays here. Just give me a little fashion show."She threw me the red lingerie. I held it up; it was sheer, lacy, and very sexy. There were no cups for tits, and the crotch was an open slit."I haven't taken a shower yet. I'm sweaty. I don't want to mess up your outfit.""That's fine."I had run out of excuses. There was a part of me that felt like she was daring me. So, I decided to accept the challenge.I took off my shirt as she watched."I don't want to stretch it out," I said, looking for her to stop this."I'll get another."I looked at the lingerie, unsure how to get it on."You step into it, put your legs in the leg holes, and then raise the bra and straps over your arms."I was still wearing my running shorts, so I attempted to step into the lingerie with them on."No. Take off those shorts. Stop being such a prude and do this right."I pulled my shorts down and stepped out, now only wearing some red Lulu Lemon briefs. My hands were shaking as I pulled them down. I turned away from her so that when I pulled down my underwear, she could only see my ass.I had been sporting an erection off and on for the past 30 minutes. Since I was turned away from her, I was glad she didn't see my cock flop out angrily.I heard her gasp and realized I was standing in front of a dressing mirror, and she had witnessed every inch of my grand entrance.I quickly stepped into the bodysuit lingerie and pulled it up. It might be humiliating to wear women's lingerie, but at least I'd be clothed.Pulling it up my torso, I put the straps over my arms. The two openings for women's tits looked odd. Of course, with no tits, it was just my flat chest.But when I looked down, there was my cock hanging between my legs through the open crotch of the outfit. I stood there, embarrassed beyond belief."Turn around."I don't know why, but I obeyed."Are you blushing? Oh, my God, why? You look great. Know what? You look like Tim Curry in Rocky Horror. You do!"I turned away from her and could now see myself in the dressing mirror. There I was, six foot one, wearing a too-small women's one-piece open-tit crotch-less outfit with my cock and balls hanging free."Oh my God, your ass is perfect. I'm so jealous; it's tighter than mine."I backed up and sat on the bed trying to cover my erection."Can I take this off now?" I asked. Not that I needed permission, but it sure felt like I did."Come up here next to me. Come on."She patted the bed next to her, and I moved to her side, still wearing my dad's bathrobe while I remained in her lingerie."Wow, I can understand why the Church says no to coffee and liquor," she said, "look what it made us do."She knew as well as I did that this had nothing to do with the spirits."What are we doing, Mrs. Barton? I don't know if I understand your game.""Mrs. Barton? Really? I told you to call me Amanda. We're both adults.""What are we doing, Amanda?""Are you upset with me?" she asked."Frustrated."She leaned over and laid her head on my chest looking down my body directly at my erection."You smell so wild. It's almost animal-like.""I need a shower," I replied."You need to relax. Can I help you relax?"She kept her head on my chest, looking at my cock, which bobbed with each beat of my heart then brought her right hand down and gripped it.Her hands were cool, and her touch felt great against the heat of my cock shaft.At last!This woman had been taunting me for days. But we were finally getting somewhere. I closed my eyes, and she stroked my cock, eliciting a long, drawn-out groan from me."There's a good boy. Let Mandy help you relax."She lay her head on my chest, looking down at my cock as she masturbated it.I wasn't sure if I should try to kiss her or push her head down to take me in her mouth.I decided to do nothing and just enjoy the moment.She gripped my cock tight, moving the elastic flesh up and down. My skin was salty from the run, and despite the enjoyment of receiving a hand job, I could feel my flesh chafing.She felt it too and rolled to the right, opened the bedside drawer, and took out a bottle of cherry-scented lube, which she slathered on my cock and resumed masturbating me.I looked down; my cock glistened and slurped as she was able to move her hand up and down the entire shaft with silky ease.She swirled her hand, then moved into quick jerks and brought her other hand in and grasped my balls, squeezing them tight. I brought my hand to her head and began to run my fingers through her hair.I felt like I needed to participate. She could sense my breath quickening and held my cock at the hilt with one hand while she stroked with the other. As her pace quickened, I knew I wouldn't last much longer.I gave out an involuntary groan, and she knew I was close. The spongy underside of my cock was swollen, and my balls grew deep red. We could both feel my ejaculation beginning. She gripped my balls with her hand tightly."Let's see how much cum you have."With that, she released my balls and gently massaged them. Whatever that trick was, the rush of cum created a sensation of euphoria and relief.I fired off a long rope of thick cum that landed on my chest, soaking the red lingerie. A second rope of cum was even more substantial, and some of it landed in her hair. The third rope of cum hit her face, and the next two continued to soil the lingerie.Despite being hit with semen, she never moved and continued to masturbate me slowly and see just how much remnant cum she could coax from my balls.The pressure was relieved, and the remaining cum bubbled up from my cock and ran down across her hands. She gently pumped me until nothing was left.Taking a finger to clean the semen from her face, she put the finger in her mouth to taste my ejaculate, like a chef seeing if the sauce was just right.She looked up at me with a smile."You're one healthy boy. It's been a while since I've seen that much cum. It tastes perfect.""I've never tasted it.""Healthy semen tastes like a slightly salty mushroom with a hint of ammonia. But never unpleasant. You have excellent semen."She rubbed her finger in a thick glob of my semen, then brought it to my mouth."No, thank you," I said, uninterested in tasting my sauce."No, try it. It's perfect. And so much of it, too.""Mrs. Barton, I mean Amanda, should we talk about what just happened?"She crawled up next to me, so we were almost face to face."Did you like that, Ethan?""I did. But”"I liked it too," She said, interrupting me. "I want to keep doing this. And more.""Well, that's just it. What was this?""That was a test. I wanted to see if you could follow my instructions. I don't have many rules, but I need you to follow the few I lay down for you.""What kind of rules?"I want to spend a lot of time with you this summer. I want us to share our bodies. I want us to make love. Often."You want to sleep with me?""We'll make love whenever I want, which can be often. You may not make love to any other woman for the rest of the summer. You are not to masturbate without my permission. Don't worry, you won't need to, I'll keep you satisfied.Was this really happening? This was Mrs. Barton, the More Mom, telling me how many ways she would please me as her sexual partner.There was more.To be continued in part 2. Based on a post by Wendy Trilby, in 5 parts, for Literotica.