My local Catholic church is quite conservative, so there are lots of altar servers but they are almost all male. They work in teams on a four-week rota. Anyway, one member of one of the teams went away to university and my 18-year-old arse somehow got drafted in. I duly turned up on my first Sunday. The priest's robing room was by the door, but the servers had something more like a locker room at the end of a corridor. The five guys I was serving with were already in there, and I'd known them all for years. I took off my cassock and reached to put on a cassock. Then I realised how awkward everyone looked. 'What is it?' I asked.
'Er, the thing is,' replied Mark, 'we have a couple of rules.' 'Go on.' 'Well, one of them is that we don't wear any boxer shorts when we're serving. To make sure no one's cheating, we all check each other before we put our cassocks on.' My eyes lit up: I could feel them do it! 'Well, don't let me stop you,' I said, a filthy grin widening across my face. This time it was their eyes that lit up. 'Go on then.' They all loosened their belts and dropped their trousers, and I can confirm that they were all within the rules. I looked around the room at the semi-circle of hanging, swinging cocks. 'Jesus had one of those,' smirked Mark. 'Lucky Him,' I answered.
As they were pulling up their trousers, I said 'Well, I can't be the only one breaking the rules, can I?' Shoes and trousers off, followed by my little white panties, duly deposited in my handbag. 'So, is this what you had in mind?' I asked as I spread my legs, giving them all a clear view of my neatly trimmed bush down to my open spunk-bucket. Trousers and shoes back on, followed by cassocks, and away we went.
Once the Mass was over and we had all taken our cassocks off, I reached for my jacket only for Mark, grinning broadly, to put out his hand and stop me. 'There's another rule,' he said. 'None of us has a wank in the shower when we're serving, because we all have a good circle-jerk after Mass.''Sounds good to me,' I replied, dropping my trousers and squatting like they were doing, in a circle, all with raging boners. It was grab the guy on your right, so I took hold of Mark's stiff cock, while Chris, another old mate of mine, cupped my mound. I pulled on Mark, and Chris fingered me furiously. We had to be careful not to make too much noise, so whenever I felt myself starting to moan, I turned and kissed first Mark and then Chris. I came and came and came, and all five boys-Mark, Chris, Steve, Tom and Rob-shot heavy loads of stored up spunk, although Chris shot the most of all, having had his fingers up my pussy while Steve wanked him.
The next day, when I was sitting next to Mark in an English class, my left hand reached down onto his right leg and made its way up to his considerable trouser bulge, which I had always admired. His right hand then slipped onto my left leg and up my very short skirt. I was only rubbing his cock through his trousers, whereas his fingers were actually in my knickers, fingering my slit.
After the class, we went to a loo that for some reason nobody ever uses. 'I've got my boxers on today,' grinned Mark. 'Not for much longer you haven't,' I assured him. I pulled his trousers and boxers down to his ankles while he did the same to my skirt and knickers. We snogged furiously to keep the noise down, and he sent shudders right through my whole body when he gushed a bucketfull of spunk. 'Fuck me, you've got gallons!' I exclaimed. 'And I had a wank this morning,' he replied. 'See how you get my juices flowing.'
I'm now hugely looking forward to serving again in a couple of weeks' time. And Mark has let me know that his football team also has the boxerless rule...