The Journey of Mrs. Small - Sex Stories

The Journey of Mrs. Small

... imagine?” “G... “ “Precisely,” he interrupted. “Sex is a gift from God. It’s a journey. Sex is not just about the final climax of events and the exchange of body fluids, it’s about the journey to that destination.” She looked back at him with mouth agape. He grabbed her arm gently but firmly and pressed up against her. “A fuck is a fuck,” he said quietly but forcibly. “Whether you use flowery words with sugar candy kisses, whips and chains, or a naughty nurse outfit to get there. A fuck is still a fuck. I’m in business to help people have a pleasurable fuck.” She was speechless. He let go of her arm and moved back. “Tomorrow after church then?” he told her. She shook her head. “No... no, “she told him. “Next week... I’ll put it through your letter box and you can get it back to me.” He shook his head. “No, you call and see me on Monday evening. There’s a flat above the shop and a back entrance off the car park road behind. Come up and see me.” “I can’t on Monday,” she told him. “Tuesday would be better. Six o’clock Tuesday, if that’s okay?” He smiled. “Six is fine.” She began to turn away but he reached for her arm once again. “How is the jelly vibrator, by the way?” Her face went as white as a sheet and her jaw dropped. “That was my online shop you bought it from,” he told her. “I packed it personally; didn’t want any of my staff recognising your name. I gave the tip a loving kiss as well.” A look of horror filled her face. “It’s okay,” he told her, “your secret is safe ...

... with me. Can’t have the Reverend Small’s wife being caught up in scandal can we?” He could see that she was visibly shaken and he released her arm. He felt a little sorry for her and rested his hand on her shoulder momentarily. “As I said, it’s all about the journey,” he told her before walking away. On Tuesday evening she was there. He heard her footsteps on the metal staircase and glanced at his watch. It was exactly six o’clock. He liked punctuality. He already had the door opened for her by the time she had reached the top stair. She smiled nervously as she stepped quickly past him into the hallway. Her perfume caught his nostrils and stirred him. He wondered what she would be like in bed. He found her attractive in a Mumsy kind of way. There was nothing striking about her sexually even though she was fairly slim. Her loose fitting blouse and skirt also did little to enhance her sexuality. Some might have described her as quite plain but Jack always looked beyond the outward appearance. His years in the business had taught him a lot about people and their sexuality. He often compared his customers to icebergs; very little on the surface but such a lot hidden beneath. He saw the vicar’s wife as very sexually repressed. He could just imagine her and her husband slipping into bed under the cover of darkness, a few touches, a few kisses and then a few minutes of a good old missionary position bump and grind. Her husband would probably groan and tell her how wonderful it was; she ...