Religion is similar to a forrest.
At some point you stop walking into it, then you are walking out of it.
A reasonable person would continue with the journey navigating straight. Some, love the forrest and wonder endlessly in it for their own perceived safety.
I am Adrian.
As a man who privately rejects the notion of the existence of things supernatural, I can only see things, all things as natural.
If I were an unreasonable person, I would say I am cursed. Of course I am not but my defect is I remember all, everything, every minor detail. Nothing escapes my recall. A touch, a smell, the faint breeze at the very moment I proposed marriage to Trudy. It is no gift but an impossible defect.
My earliest memory is a dark moment. Covered in blood, cold, beaten by a stranger as my mother cried and my father, watching on, standing in a doorway smiling. I remember and feel the pain then moments later, panic then sorrow.
Trudy, the only child to Pastor Joseph and Cynthia in a regional town just outside a major city. A very tight close knit community that was near the coast. While pastors daughters are often quite rebellious, Trudy was very grounded. She loved the ocean and longed to immerse herself in it, to be enveloped completely almost helplessly while at the same time vulnerable to the overwhelming power of it. Her parents would always host visiting pastors and their families because of their proximity to the big city nearby.
Because of this, Trudy had a vast network of friends from coast to coast. Fellow pastors kids who understood their beliefs and their lifestyle.
We married, unsurprisingly in her father’s church, surrounded by their congregation, friends and family.
Sadly, my mother had died several years earlier. As a small boy of 5, my father completely vanished, never seen again. I can not say I’m an only child like Trudy as this may betray my mothers memory. I was a twin but due to circumstances that can only be described as neglect by medical staff, he had died.
My bride had completed her doctorate of education while, just like her father, I had trained to be a Pastor. I had just completed a doctorate of theology as well as a doctorate of sociology. The future looked very bright for us both.
We both worked in her father’s church while navigated the difficult task of finding a place where we both could find employment in the same region.
Finally, after 6 months we were settled into a similar community 3 hours north. While it was further inland than we had hoped, it was close to perfect.
We had been given the task of reinvigorating a church congregation that had been running continually for over 130 years. In our first four years the congregation had grown from 65 to 190 locals. We both had made successful inroads into our community. We were networking with several local businesses with the help of Chantelle, a childhood friend of Trudy’s. Chantelle was one of the many pastors daughters that would visit Trudy’s home as an adolescent.
Trudy worked at a local private school while I ran programs both at church and in the community. We had an idyllic life. A new home, both careers moving ahead and now we had an opportunity to start our own family.
We took a much needed one week vacation to Hawaii before embarking on our next step of parenthood. On returning, we stayed for a weekend at Trudy’s parents home. It was while swimming in her favourite beach that a saw Trudy the happiest since graduation and our wedding day. It seemed that everything was falling into place. That memory I will hold as my dearest.
Because we were planning on starting our family we had booked in to see an obstetrician on the Monday. It was right there that our hopes and our dreams were killed.
Trudy had cervical cancer.
Terminal. Too late to do anything that would reverse her condition. Terminal was the diagnosis.
That was a little over three years ago.
Eleven months later, Trudy was gone. Devastated, I withdrew from work, from our community and life.
Our churches denomination arranged for me to have extended leave and later I was approved to do relief pastoral work for caretaking churches throughout the country.
I am one flawed human.
Three weeks after Trudy’s funeral, Chantelle invited me over to her house for coffee. Normally this would have surprised me because Chantelle’s marriage to Cam seemed rock solid and they’d be no way another man would be in their home without Cam being there. Under the circumstances I felt it was a way of us to continue to process our grief, together.
Once I had arrived, we hugged and we sat down to talk.
Adrian, you are really going to have to trust me. I have a letter for you that Trudy asked me to give to you. She made me promise to give it to you after 3 weeks. Adrian, you’re going to be shocked because the letter will reveal a side to Trudy that you have been unaware of. Her love for you was immense, please remember that. Chantelle handed me the letter as I sat on the lounge. She wrote:
My darling forever Adrian, I have had the privilege to watch you grow and learn, to experience the highest of joys a successes. I have also watched as you have been in despair over my illness. You’ve gone from the great hope of having a family to being alone. I want you to experience joy again. More than anything I want you to have the family you desire and deserve. I have something that you need to know and I only want you to get this information from me. As you are aware, growing up we hosted many families when I was growing up. As I grew from a child to an adolescent then a young woman, many times I would share a bedroom and a bed with pastors daughters. Many many times as we learned about our bodies, we would kiss, touch and explore. I don’t need to spell it out to you but as you can gather, this was a very frequent occurrence that happened with several (but not all) female visitors.
You need to know that you are a fantastic lover and never failed to meet my needs. I had various girls while in college and always thought I would stop once we were married. For a while, it did until we moved here and I reconnected with Chantelle. Being bi and heavily involved with church meant I dug deep to keep this hidden. I know by now, you are shocked and reread these lines several times. The simple fact is that I couldn’t deny myself who I am. I had to be who I am, a bi woman still madly in love with my husband.
Chantelle has a gift for you from me. Please my love, don’t reject this from her because she is giving you this gift out of her love for me and I’ve asked her to give it out of my love for you.
Find your dreams and flourish.
All my love, Trudy.’
Chantelle moves over and sat down next to me as I cried. With her arm around me, she too began to cry, my head falling onto her upper chest.
A few minutes later I composed myself and pondered some of the information. It was too overwhelming to absorb all at once. Through tearing eyes I asked her ‘so, what is the gift’?
Adrian, you need to trust me. Do you trust me?
Yes, of course, I said.
She pulled me to my feet, put her hands on my chest and ran her hands down my torso as she lowered herself to her knees.
Her hand now feeling my cock through the fabric. My head wanted to explode. Chantelle and Cam are our family friends. How could I betray Cam like this? Part of me wanted to scream STOP but her hands were working my cock that by now was becoming engorged. Her body, her looks and her face, everything about Chantelle was pure class. It had been months since I had come and her lips were so beautiful. Finally, I backed away, clumsily falling back on the lounge. What about Cam? I can’t do this!
Chantelle’s response shocked me. Oh ! Ha, Can knows, he’s all for it. He wanted me to set up a cam so he could watch it later. I don’t him to go fuck himself. She pushed my body back into the lounge and straddled me. Adrian, trust me. My hands reached for her boobs. Something I’d secretly wanted to do since we met. As I grabbed them she whispered in my ear, that ain’t part of the deal. I quickly released them but glad that I had finally felt them.
She hopped off of me and led me back on my feet. Still hard, she knelt down before me and unbuckled my belt and pants, unzipped my fly and released my cock from my underwear. My God, she exclaimed, Trudy was right…….it is beautiful!
She held my cock and stroked several long slow strokes. I couldn’t look at her, it was too weird. As she kissed the side of my shaft, it felt strangely familiar. As I gazed at a photograph on the mantelpiece it dawned on me. This was Trudy loving me in the best way she knew. Too sick to contemplate giving me what I loved the most, she trained Chantelle to love her by blowing me. Chantelle was blowing me the exact same way Trudy had loved me. Trudy has a way of revolving her tongue around my cock as she moved her lips in and out while gently sucking. It was something uniquely Trudy.
I closed my eyes and let Trudy love me for the very last time. There was no variation in tempo, just a beautiful consistent love in motion. Trudy’s face in my imagination, memories of her naked body, the scent of her pussy, I could tell that soon I was going to erupt. Without opening my eyes I imagined embracing Trudy for the very last time as I shot a huge load in Chantelle’s mouth. Every drop of me was absorbed into Chantelle.
I fell back on the lounge as Chantelle snuggled up next to me, her head on my chest.
20 minutes later, still in the same position, I whispered, ‘we need to talk some more about all of this’. Ironically, I still have not had the opportunity as I left town before we could chat again. After my break, travelling I received my first posting, on the other side of the continent. The first posting of many before returning back home. So far, I have no idea the extent of Chantelle’s and Cam’s involvement in Trudy’s secret sex life.
So, onward I go, with little in the way of answers and a whole lot of seething anger.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/fc6peo/trudy_mf