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Delicious Recipe for Fresh Zucchini

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This is my first story. These are all true life adventures of a fundamentalist who became a feminist and enjoyed the sexual liberation.


Picture me, a young mother in her eleventh year of trying to please a fundamentalist preacher/husband who had odd sexual appetites. He was such a role model on Sunday, smiling at the children, teaching Bible school, condemning sinners, charming the pillars of the church.

For many years I had read and religiously followed Dr. Jim Robson's Family Values books. He said to be a good Christian wife and mother one must stay at home, take care of the kids better, pleasure the husband first and foremost, and never NEVER masturbate. Dr. Robson, the noted paediatrician and radio talk show host, assured me this was the path to my highest fulfillment. Whenever I thought of masturbating, as I had guiltily in my youth, I forced myself to think of other things, playing loud Christian music to drive the evil thoughts from my mind.

After a particularly bad time with my husband, I made up my mind to leave no matter what it cost me. Even though my frightening husband vowed to prove I was a horrid mother and make sure our kids never lived with me, I was emboldened to act for our safety. To make enough money to leave my husband and care for our kids, I secretly applied to grad school. Oh my joy when I was accepted. My first few professors, male and female, were all feminists who taught me to write about all my life experiences, good or bad. They assigned controversial texts about women's liberation, gay rights, human rights, and SEX. I read voraciously. There was even information on lesbianism which, much to my chagrin, I found fascinating.

Each Sunday, I'd go to church and wonder how I could conscientiously embrace all this new information. Each Monday in class, I opened like a flower drinking in the rain and cast my guilt aside. I frequented feminist, gay and lesbian bookstores and hungrily stalked the sexuality shelves, sitting on the floor to read quietly. I dared not take the books home. My husband threw my textbooks on the floor. What would he do if he found me reading that women could satisfy each other? Or learning that men could be soft and kind and gentle to their lovers?

One day I came upon an erotic story of a woman who had seen a handsome young man, needed to satisfy herself in a hurry and had no dildo handy. (YES, moist reader, by now I knew what a dildo was!!!) She plucked up a banana and proceeded to insert it enthusiastically in her juicy vagina.

I was beside myself with desire. My whole body was in a sweat. I was blushing profusely. Surely everyone in the bookstore could see that I, a married Christian mother of three, was desperately aroused in public, reading porn on the floor of a gay bookstore!

I rushed out of the store and started for my car. Beside the bookstore was an organic market with fresh food. I looked in the windows at the colorful bounty. I looked back at my car which would drive me to suburbia, to another night of being berated by my husband, another night of being forced to satisfy only him in bed.

The glass doors whispered a welcome as they whooshed to let me in the grocery. I sauntered to the vegetable and fruit department lazily, appearing purposeless. Didn't everyone see it written on my face that I would make love with my first fruit tonight? To hell with it! The bananas looked nice but the zuchinis, oh the zuchinis. They were curved, they were just a little coarse, they came in all shapes and sizes. I took my time choosing my darling, just as I would have selected a dance partner, (if I had been allowed to dance of course)!

Where can a lonely constantly watched mother go for a date with destiny (with a lot of moisture dripping onto her panties)? To the bathroom, of course, where mothers have been going for years to get the only privacy they can! It was actually quite clean and pleasant and roomy in the handicap stall.

I was dying to feel that zuchini inside me. Could I do it, could I pull my clothes aside in a public place and just stick it in? I did!!!! It felt divine. In and out, in and out, slowly, slowly, thrusting, twisting, pushing the curve into my starved pussy. My precious reclaimed pussy. My beautiful wet pussy. One hand slamming my zuchini home again and again, one hand working furiously on my lovely clit until I thought I would scream out. I came and came and came. I fucked myself to freedom.

I decided Dr. Robson and my husband did not know all there was to fulfil a woman. A vegetable knew more than they did!

(Dr. Jim Robson is not his real name.)



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