[F] The Forbidden Sex Life of a Mormon Housewife – Part 1: Self-Discovery

Dear Reader, you should be ashamed of yourself. I know I am.

You see, I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Many know us as “Mormons,” due to the book we consider companion scripture to the Bible—The Book of Mormon.

No doubt some of you have seen The Book of Mormon Musical. Some of you may have read or heard strange rumors of my faith. Most of it is probably hogwash—though some of it may be true.

I once had a man ask if I grew my hair a certain way to hide my horns. That is, after all, what his preacher had told him about Mormons, and Jesus wouldn’t lie to his preacher.

As a member of “the Church” we are taught to obey certain tenants—commandments—in order to remain within the good graces of the Lord.

But you see, dear reader, at times in this author’s three decades, that has proven most difficult indeed. My vice, you ask?

Isn’t it apparent?

As any self-respecting mother in our faith will tell you, a woman’s purity, including her virginity is like a rose—beautiful, red, vibrant, wanted—and to lose one’s virginity before marriage is for that rose to lose its petals, to wilt, completely unwanted. Now, setting aside this and similarly tragic and damaging metaphors that I have heard are quite common in many denominations of Christianity, the reader should know that one of the basic tenets of our faith is the “Law of Chasity.” This is a commandment to, you guessed it, stay chaste and not have pre-marital sex.

I was born and raised in Utah. The “Motherland” for Mormons, as some would call it. I excelled in school and the ACTs and earned a scholarship to BYU, also known as Brigham Young University.

I made it through my Freshman year with my virtue still intact. I never dated anyone in High School, not seriously anyways. Sure I dated, and even lost my “VL” virgin lips to a terrible kisser named, Matthew, but I never desired any of the guys I had gone on dates with. So I stayed single.

Then along came sophomore year.

Mormons marry young. Because of the whole no-sex-before-marriage thing. Before I ended my Freshman year, one of my roommates had already gotten married. Like I said, young. I didn’t want that for myself.

I would be the girl who finished school and pursued her dreams before getting married and starting a family. I guess I didn’t consider at the time that those things didn’t have to be mutually exclusive.

I grew up loving dance (ballet, ballroom, hip hop), and I loved going down to Salt Lake City on the weekends with my girlfriends to go dancing. On the night in question my girls and I were at a party where they wouldn’t card us near 500 South in SLC. It was loud, poorly lit, and full of strangers dancing their booties off. My people.

Humble brag: I got hit on quite often at these parties, and I am guilty in taking a little bit of pleasure in turning each of them down. Usually all I would have to do is shake my head no, and the men (and occasional women) were usually polite about it.

My attire? A dress that would surely violate the BYU honor code (more on that later), heavy eye makeup and lipstick, topped with my favorite set of dancing heels.  I probably looked nothing like the good little Mormon girl I actually was, which was the point.

That night I started dancing with a guy, and although it was dark, the strobe lights seemed to display a guy who, by my standards, was just downright hot. I’ll call him McDreamy.

After about ten minutes of dancing with McDreamy. I excused myself to go get some water from the bar (did I forget to tell you that Mormons don’t drink alcohol?). When I ordered my water, my dance partner was already behind me, and he ordered a water as well, but pressed his body against mine.

Normally I would have moved or politely pushed him away, but I’m not going to lie, I was pretty turned on. More turned on, in fact, then I had ever been. I looked back at him and grinned.

He sort of had me pinned against the bar. It felt good. I felt his hand on my ass. Maybe he thought he could get an “accidental” feel, I don’t know. I had never let anyone touch me like that before. But this time, I did.

I surveyed my surroundings, checking to make sure no-one was looking at us. It was dark. No-one had noticed from what I could tell.

I was letting a complete stranger feel me up in the darkness, in a crowd club, people bumping into me and reaching past me to get their drinks.

I was wet. So wet.

I turned around to see McDreamy and was met by his lips on top of mine.  I wanted it, and he knew I wanted it when I kissed him back.

Now guys, please don’t try this. It certainly could have been a #MeToo moment if I hadn’t reciprocated.

I thought he’d stop, but he didn’t. For a long time. Longer, in fact, than anyone had ever kissed me. I kissed him back and didn’t want to stop.

His mouth felt good against mine, his lips were soft. It wasn’t gross and slobbery like I had experienced before. No tongue at all—well, until I opened my mouth to beg for it. The thong I was wearing, I’m sure, was absolutely drenched at the thought of what a slut I was being.

I probably would have let him keep going, but my phone started to ring against my nipple. I didn’t answer it in time, but looked at the screen to see a text from Natalie—”Slut.” It read.

I looked around until I found my friend waving with a devilish grin, apparently having witnessed everything that was happening. It probably could have been worse timing, I may have done something I shouldn’t have if she didn’t stop me with McDreamy.

Natalie texted me again, “we’re heading back home.”

“My friend.” I shouted over the bass to the fondler in front of me. “Gotta go.”

He looked disappointed as I turned to leave, but I kind of liked the idea of letting a hot stranger touch my ass and make out with me, then walk away, and never see him again.

I was dripping the entire drive back to Provo—only I didn’t quite understand what was happening to my body. You see, I had never . . . explored myself before. I’d never felt the need. But now I had an inexplicable desire to relieve the tension that had built up between my legs.

I excused myself to the bathroom, as my roommate crashed on her bed. The bathroom was the only room in the house that I could hope to have an ounce of privacy.

I turned on the shower and moved to take off my clothes. When I slid my thong down my legs, I saw something I had never seen before. A sort of whitish cream spread across the inner fabric of my underwear. I was so confused, but knew that it had to be a result of how insanely turned on I was from the night’s events.

My thoughts quickly returned to McDreamy from the party. His hands on my body, and his tongue in my mouth. This good little Mormon girl had never felt so depraved in her entire life.

Although I knew about sex and masturbation, my knowledge of the same, as you would guess, was rather limited at that early stage in my life.  But as I recalled the evenings events with Mr. Hotty, while I stood under the rain of my shower, I was feeling an unfamiliar pressure between my legs. I was getting turned on quite rapidly, and my pussy felt like it was on fire. I-I felt the need to touch myself.

So I did.

My clitoris was throbbing as my hands wandered between my legs for the first time ever.  I began to lightly touch the small, hard  ball that was my clit and began to fantasize of what might have been with McDreamy.

I imagined him pinning me against the bar of that club and getting on his knees lifting my dress, pulling my thong to the side, and licking my pussy. The dirtier my thoughts, the quicker my heart beat and the hotter the fire in my virgin kitty burned. I felt flushed.

I could almost feel the flick of his tongue in my slit, and my face contorted in masturbatory pleasure. I rubbed my clit harder and faster pretending it was McDreamy licking me. It just felt so good, so right. I couldn’t stop.

My mind then took me to his cock. I never saw it, but I felt it against me, and I imagined him pulling it out, already hard, and putting it inside of me. In that moment, there was nothing I wanted more than McDreamy’s hard rod, pushing inside of me, not even thinking about the pain of my first time.

As I dreamt, I tentatively moved my fingers lower to my tight, pink pussy and cautiously pushed one finger inside me.

My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. I had never put anything inside myself before. I felt very wet, and not due to the water cascading down between my breasts.  I needed no lubrication, and pushed further inside, gasping at the shock of this entirely novel feeling of pleasure I had discovered.

I closed my eyes again and imagined McDreamy slowly pistoning in and out of me, while I pushed my fingers all the way inside my tight wet hole. It felt tingly, and my legs began to spasm while waves of euphoria spread through me.

My jaw ran slack and my eyes widened as I began pumping my fingers in and out of my pussy with each imagined thrust of McDreamy’s perfect cock.

It felt better if I made my fingers stiff and tight, and curved them ever so slightly—a trick I still use today. I wiggled them around inside me each time I thrust in.

I began to grind myself against my hand, trying to get more of my fingers inside of me. I pushed harder and harder until I was frantically pumping my poor neglected pussy.

I dropped to the cold tile of the shower floor as I got closer. Closer to what, I wasn’t quite sure, but I knew I was close.

“OH YES!” I groaned.

I started to play with my boobs as my fingers found a spot inside of me I didn’t want to leave.

“Oh my gosh,” I panted noisily, hopefully not over the sound of the rushing water.

I felt a massive pressure rising in my tummy and emanating through my crotch. With one swift, firm push with my fingers deep inside of me, I knew I had reached it, whatever it was—what I later learned was my first orgasm.

“OH MY GOSH!” I heard myself shriek uncontrollably.

I convulsed uncontrollably on the shower floor as my pussy throbbed sharply and I climaxed explosively over my hand for the very first time.

I sat sprawled on the shower floor, water cascading over my post-orgasmic body, my breath returning to my chest after this most extraordinary experience.

“Molly, is everything all right?” I heard one of my roommates inquire through the door.

How embarrassing. I hope she hadn’t heard much. She must have heard my climax.

“Err… yes,” I called back, secretly ashamed. “Just dropped the shampoo bottle on my foot, all OK now though.”

“Oh ok,” she called back.

I stood up and turned the shower off. I dried off and got dressed in my pajamas.

So, dear reader, are you blushing?

– Molly

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/so20o5/f_the_forbidden_sex_life_of_a_mormon_housewife