The Vicar’s Wife Returns

I couldn’t have been two minutes out of the drive and less than a mile down the road towards the train station – when Ali caught sight of Marjorie coming up the drive. She was looking out of the kitchen window and noticed that Marjorie had bounce in her step – not the trudging walk of an ageing doyen. No walking stick either, although still the beetle crusher shoes, pop socks, tweed twin set and that awful black hat sat on top of her head with her massive hair all coiled underneath. Beginning of summer and she had the silly gloves on.

Ali opened the front door. “Nice to see you Marge. Come on in.” Ali walked back in the kitchen leaving Marjorie to close the door. They had a different relationship now – no longer the power plays and condescending attitude. Marjorie dutifully closed the door and stepped into the kitchen. “Tea or coffee Marge – I have both – freshly made – and freshly baked Madeleines.

“Oh that sounds lovely Allison.”

“Why don’t you call me Ali – all my friends do?” As she turned her linen shorty robe fell open exposing her breasts – never did find that sash belt – I had hidden it in my sock drawer. I had only a few minutes before been playing with her breast – sucking on her nipples. They were still hard and dark red – swollen to bursting and still moist. Marjorie’s eyes were fixed on her breasts – boring holes like a laser in her nipples.

“Okay … Ali.”

“What can I do for you Marge?”

“I came by this morning to talk about yesterday.”

“Yeah … I wanted to say before you left yesterday – you are a great fuck Marge.” Ali could see the word had stuck in Marjorie’s craw – yet less than 24 hours ago she was screaming ‘fuck me’ – at the top of her lungs. It wasn’t in her nature to swear and she didn’t tolerate it from others – especially other women. Ali came around the kitchen island with the cups and saucers – her robe flowing open even more exposing her pussy in plain sight for Marjorie. Ali placed the china down on the counter and without notice she placed her hands on the sides of Marjorie’s face and gave her a full kiss. It took a little pressure – but she got her tongue into Marjorie’s mouth and was exploring her throat. Ali unbuttoned Marjorie’s jacket and cupped her breasts – then reached down and took Marjorie’s hand and placed it on her breast. Marjorie instinctively kneaded Ali breast and played with her nipples.

Ali pulled her tongue back and Marjorie put her tongue in Ali’ s mouth – while bringing her other hand up to cup Ali’s other breast. Ali pulled back. “Your tongue is sweet Marge. But I see you have the same bra on and the same problem. Are you busy today?” Marjorie stammered to get the words out.

“No … no … actually I have cancelled todays’ committee meetings. I have the day free.”

“Good – I’ll make a couple of phone calls – pour yourself a drink – the Madeleines are on the stove top.” Ali reached for the wall phone and made two calls. “Excellent they can see us this morning.”

“Who can see us this morning?”

“I go to a beauty salon on the way to Guildford and they have a private area. And there is a lingerie shop in the same parade. This man is a genius and he’ll solve your bra problem – he has a private fitting area for his exclusive clients. Let’s face it Marge you are a local dignitary and need to be afforded the most discrete service.” She played to Marjorie’s vanity and it was working. “Vicar Adam won’t miss you for a few hours will he?”

“No – we sometimes don’t see each other for the entire day.”

“Good – finish your tea and I’ll get dressed – be right back.” She went into her dressing room and put on a wraparound Diane Von Furstenberg print summer dress. A pair of hold up sheer stockings but no panties or bra. That was the beauty of a Furstenberg wrap – it gave you the needed support for the breasts. The print pattern camouflaged her not wearing a slip or underwear.