After Church Effect

Yes, I still go to church from time to time. I’m far from a regular attender, but now and then,  I do like to go. 

Afterwards, I’m a hot mess between my legs and usually rabidly horny….incredibly horny….more horny than I have words to describe. 

It usually becomes noticeable after communion. My attention might be drawn to an altar girl or boy. Usually one in their late teens, and I start wondering when s/he last rubbed one out…or, if it’s particularly hot, if they stripped off under their robes? (I did….sometimes even going so far as to be totally naked under my red cassock and white surplice) 

It might go further. I know some of the current crop (?) of altar servers. Some are brother and sister…not that that stops me…if anything, it adds to my sexual perversity. Does he steal her underwear? Does she know…and likes it? Have they…? 

By the end, as I said, I’m a hot mess….my clit is throbbing…I’m utterly soaked, and no matter what I’m wearing, I can smell myself. As I think I’ve mentioned before, my sense of smell is incredibly sharp. Friends have commented on it before. On the down side, I get to smell some nasty stuff which others don’t, but on the upside, I get to smell some very, very nice things too. Like the girl who walked past my pew while I was still kneeling. She couldn’t have been more than 14, but I can assure you, she was having a ‘wet’ day! 

So, priest duly shaken hands with (“lovely service, Father.”) and out into the sunshine. Cricketers warming up on the green, and my village pub rammed with people, many of whom booked for Sunday Lunch. Either way, we have gone from strength to strength. The bottom line is quality. You don’t need mega-expensive ingredients, you need a chef who knows their craft.

I thought about going in, but immediately rejected the idea….I had more pressing needs. So I went and sat where the junior cricket team were sitting on the green. As I did, a story a boy told me popped into my head. He had ‘confessed’ to me that he thought the sight of a girl peeing to be intensely erotic. I felt there was more and after a brief pause he said “What I’d really like is to…watch a girl pee her panties.” 

With this thought rolling around I picked a place where only a couple of the lads could see me and adopted the position. Dress right up at the back. Sitting on the grass with only my panties between my bum and the cool, green herbage, feet up near my bum and slightly apart, knees together. That shows just enough “V” and lets me get down and dirty if I needed to…and right now…boy, I needed to. 

A girl knows when she’s being checked out. We just…know. And I think boys have a similar ‘radar’ about them too. They seem to sense when and where there’s something interesting to see. 

Ah, but you guys….these days you live in a difficult world, I think. You look at a girl, and you’re called a pervert. You attempt to chat a girl up and it’s ‘sexual harassment’. In some areas of feminism, you make love to a girl, and she changes her mind the next morning, and it’s sexual assault or rape! Some of the ‘wimmin’ want the right for us to withdraw consent to sex several weeks after the event if we wish to. What a world! 

But I wanted to be seen. I wanted someone to check my panties out. I wasn’t disappointed. A guy I vaguely know….someone I’ve met once or twice….name of….oh what was it…oh yes…Patrick; (round here, what else would it be? Patrick or Mary!) He began to sit in a very awkward way in his deckchair;…sideways on so he could check me out, and knees drawn up to hide his erection…or so I told myself. 

Meanwhile, Miss Brain was hopping up and down and yelling ‘dirty! Be feckin’ dirty.’ Oh well…why not? When I’m in ‘dirty’ mode, my horny feeling is very different. Oh boobs are rock solid as usual, and nipples so hard they hurt, clit is pulsing away and I’m soaked…take that as read…but there’s also a whole-body experience too. My skin tingles, and my brain works a mile a minute flashing me images of some of the dirtiest things I’ve done. These don’t always involve what I’ve done with other people…sometimes it’s dirty things I’ve done alone. 

By now, Patrick was staring at me…overtly staring. I realised I was sitting near a shed where they keep the lawnmowers and no-one else could see me. I looked into Patrick’s eyes and smiled. Then I simply rolled forwards off my bum so I was squatting. Still looking right at him….I peed my panties. His eyes were so wide he didn’t even blink. Once I’d finished, I shoved my hand into my panties and wanked myself off. I came deliciously into my soaked undies and then stood up. Inclining my head I suggested he joking me round the back of the mower shed. 

He got up and came my way. Even as we picked our way through the brambles and tree branches to our unseen rendezvous,mit felt so…innocent….like two kids taking a chance. Once there I said, “Like that?”

“Oh feck…yes!”

“Like watching a girl pee her panties?”

“Yes….I’ve always found the idea…naughty?”

“And…don’t think about the answer….just answer straight up…..what does it make you want to do….right here…right now?”

I was expecting him to ask to fuck me, but instead he said “It….I….it makes me want to….pee on your clit.” 

Well….why not? I sorted out my dress by tucking it into my belt, took my panties down and off, and leaned back against the creaky wood of the shed. I spread my knees and invited him to “Go for it”

It’s been quite a while since I’ve played any kind of water games, and I know one thing…I want more…soon! 

Patrick sent a jet of pee right onto my clit. I’ve heard it’s difficult for guys to pee when they’re hard, but it didn’t seem to be a problem for Patrick! I was almost there by the time he’d finished. Almost. Not quite. I decided not to fuck him…I wanted something more…naive than that. Instead, I wanked him off, asking him to cum on my pussy. (Yes…I know…I loathe the word, but sometimes ‘cunt’ is too strong…minge…twat…quim…none of them seemed to fit the moment, and anyway, the moment I said “pussy” it triggered him and he spurted a very impressive load of semen onto my hairless mound. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Wait…what? Was that me? 

“Er….yes…..but late to ask that!” 

“Yes…I know….does she suck you off?”

“Yeah…she’s brilliant at that.”

“Swallow?”

“Yep”

“Then let’s give her something extra.” 

I turned round and told him to push inside me..”Fuck me. You can cum in me if you want to cum again, but the main thing here is to cover your cock in me.” He fucked me for a few minutes, but I think he’d blown his load first time around.

“Now, get her to suck you off….and she’ll be sucking me off at the same time. Your girlfriend sucking another girl’s cunt off your cock. Sound good?”

Then he kissed me….and damn near made me cum again! Fuck…what a kisser! If he does that between his girlfriends legs, he’s a keeper! 

My panties? Oh, they lay on the ground behind the mower hut, totally soaked, and there they remain.

Back home, I told Dani about my exploits, and in particular, how I’d missed watersports in my sex life. Half an hour later, Dani had made up for some of that loss.