The Bishop’s Hotwife: Part 2

It’s not a tryst when she’s training me.

Based on a post by Wendy Trilby, in 5 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

<figure class="tmblr-full"></figure>

"You can have me any way you choose. But you must always finish in my cunt. God's seed is never to be wasted."

I found it amusing, or perhaps ironic, that she somehow integrated religion into what was essentially just a wild sexual affair.

"What about The Bishop?"

"The
Bishop is a wonderful man-a great provider, a man of the temple, a
leader. But he's impotent in the bedroom; he has been for years. I, on
the other hand, have an insatiable thirst."

"Are you on the pill? Should I get condoms?"

"No and no. But Mandy needs frequent servicing."

"Um, who's Mandy? You keep saying her name."

"Me, I'm Mandy. At least here in the non-kosher bedroom. Amanda, Mandy. Get it?"

"I'm not even used to calling you Amanda; and now you have a nickname.

She wrinkled her nose at me.

"That
name is meant for our shared use; no one else. As for Mrs. Barton, you
should probably keep that up in public. We can't display any informality
around The Bishop; he's a very intuitive man."

Mrs.
Barton got on her knees and straddled my body. I hoped she was going to
shed the robe, which she did, but only partway. She took off the top,
revealing her tits.

"Now, if there are no more questions, I want to feel you inside me."

Her
tits were large for her petite frame and hung down with some weight.
Her areolas and nipples were surprisingly larger than I'd have imagined.
She was always tan, but her tits were milk-white, and I could even see
the blue of her veins.

She remained hovering over me, but when my cock began to stir, I could feel it pressing against something fleshy and wet.

She smiled.

"You like them. I can tell."

"They're amazing."

"They are. Now watch this."

She
took her left hand and grasped the nipple of her left tit, placing her
hand above the nipple and pushing down as she squeezed.

To
my shock and amazement, twin tiny streams of milk shot out of her
nipple, landing on my face; she continued to squeeze, and droplets of
her mother's milk followed.

I was amazed, and I continued to harden in response. I could feel my cock pressing on the wet flesh under her robe.

"This is for John-John. I can't get pregnant while I'm breastfeeding, so we won't need any protection."

"You sure? That sounds like some kind of myth."

I
have five children; I've nursed them all for over a year. I've made
love countless times and never conceived while I breastfeed. So, no, we
don't need any protection. We'll celebrate each other's bodies as God
intended, natural, skin on skin, intimate. I'll do anything you desire,
and you'll leave your seed in me. We cannot waste what the Lord has
provided.

She held out her tit.

"Now, would you like to taste?"

I
was unsure, but my cock was certain. It surged yet again against her
body. I could not tell where, but a small trickle of hot fluid dripped
from within her and drenched my glans let me know I was almost inside
her pussy.

She
bent forward, holding her left tit out, bringing it to my mouth. Her
purple nipple was saturated in the milk she had already produced, and
she gently guided it around my lips, wetting them.

I
opened my mouth wider, and she pushed her thick teat inside, like a
cock penetrating a cunt. She was forceful, and her tit flesh filled my
mouth as her nipple sought out my tongue and urged my mouth to latch on.

I could smell her clean body and the scent of her milk.

"Come on, Bryant, taste Mandy."

My
mouth closed on her tit, creating suction, and my tongue stimulated her
nipple, telling her nerves it was time to produce. There was nothing,
and then she gave a gentle sigh. I could feel a strange sensation as her
milk ducts contracted, followed by a letdown, and her breast milk
filled my mouth.

"There's a good boy," she said as she went from straddling me to sitting directly atop my cock.

The
warmth of her pussy enveloped my cock. I wasn't inside her, but her
cunt was around the length of my cock like the bun of a hot dog, sliding
back and forth, wetting and preparing it.

Slowly, she took her teat out of my mouth. I chased it slightly, but she pulled it away, drying it with the robe.

"That's all for you. The rest is for John-John."

She slid back and forth over my cock, using her pussy to sense how hard I was.

"You want me to take a shower first?" I offered.

"No,
I want to taste your sweat; I want to smell your animal scent. Now, one
more thing. Take off that lingerie. From here on out, you're in charge
of me. You tell me what you want. You tell me what you're going to do to
me. You can punish me if I displease you."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "That feels kind of, I don't know."

"Have
you heard the term Trad Wife? It means a traditional wife. That's me. I
serve my husband and my family. Cook the meals, get the children off to
school. Being a trad wife is my full-time job."

This wasn't the conversation I needed as I was about to enter her.

A
man should treat his woman with love and respect, but with a firm hand.
My job is to please my husband. In this bed, I am your property.

"But I'm not your husband."

"In this house, you are. I answer to you. You'll treat me as your wife, and I'll serve you as my husband."

And outside this house?

"I'm Mrs. Barton. Wife of Bishop Barton and expect you to honor that."

I was starting to comprehend her game and her rules.

I
had always heard the joke: When Mormon girls go bad, they go really
bad. But no one ever told me when Mormon moms go bad, they go
incredible.

I decided to test the waters.

"Ok, Mandy, take off that robe and let me see your body."

Mandy
complied by getting off the bed and dropping her robe, standing before
me unadorned and unabashed. At least now I could see her entire body.

She
was of average height, neither short nor tall, but she had a petite
frame. You wouldn't know she had given birth to five children when
clothed, yet her body revealed some signs of childbirth and early middle
age.

Her
tits, full and natural, bore the unmistakable signs of the milk she
carried. Still, they retained a sexy fitness that was undeniably
alluring.

She
had some flaws, and while they were few, they made her all the more
alluring. Her soft body bore the marks of her life. Her waist had a
gentle, elegant curve, and despite having given birth a year ago, her
skin remained tight. Her hips were full, and the only hint at the five
children she had borne was the slight softness of her midsection.

Her pubic hair was neatly groomed above her perfectly bare slit. I could see her labia lips were large and hung down.

"Do I please you?" she asked.

She was very intentional in her statements.

Sure,
she said I was meant to be in control, but I realized that she was
someone who understood her power and required no one's permission to
claim it.

She had orchestrated everything to lead us to this moment and was entirely unapologetic.

"You do."

I
got up off the bed and tore off the lingerie, ripping it in half until I
was standing before her naked. My cock was now fully erect.

I
guided her to the bed, and she sat and scooched back. I sat next to her
and slowly moved in. This incredible woman had masturbated me and then
offered herself to me without limits, and yet I hadn't even kissed her.

She
looked at me as I moved in for a gentle kiss. When our lips connected, I
could feel a true spark of passion. Putting her hand around my neck,
she pulled me in tight and opened her mouth to explore mine. Her hand
slid to my erection and began to ma