This is a predominantly Catholic area, hence the convent that was just outside my village, but like many small villages, the local parish church which has been here since the year 805, while it was originally Catholic, became Anglican thanks to the attentions of Henry VIII.
Actually, if you go to an Anglican service it’s not that different to a Catholic mass, except, for some reason, the music is infinitely better in Anglican churches. I have no idea why…it just is. From time to time, yes. I still go to mass….equally, from time to time, but far more rarely, I will go to the Anglican Church for their Sunday morning service.
The activity in the woods is imaginary. The church, the boys, the choir are all very real. So this is mostly fantasy, but like all great fantasies, based on elements of fact.
Anglicans are way more accepting of homosexuality than the Catholic Church will ever be during my lifetime. Some of its ministers are openly gay, and some even live with their partners. Bring it on, I say!
One thing that attracts my attention is the choir. I love choral music - always have - and this church has a particularly good choir. There are 12 boy sopranos, and a good balance of alto, tenor and bass voices too. The organist/choirmaster there obviously knows what they are doing because the choir sing an anthem during communion every Sunday. This can be Mozart, Howells, Tallis, Stainer, Goss, their repertoire is quite wide, and as I said, I’m a sucker for choral music. Compared to the choir in the Catholic Church in the village, these guys are in a different league.
Plus there’s something else too. Watching 12 pubescent boys trying to behave themselves is hilarious. While dressed up in their cassocks and surplices, they seem so young and innocent, and to my mind, they are working hard at being ‘good’, but I wonder….
I said pubescent. While they still sing with that clear, treble voice that only young boys have, there are also boys who have moved into the other voices when Mr. Puberty came to visit. Two of them are in the tenor row, and, well…..I wonder….! (Or maybe, I fantasise….either’s good.)
I even found out their names, purely by accident. James and Allan. They will have gone through the hair sprouting stage, and begun to take more interest in the spontaneous erections that, I’m told, plague boys at that time.
Sometimes, I catch sight of them using the path that cuts through the woods at the back of my cottage, and again, I wonder….
What if, one warm summer’s evening, they were walking back home after Choir practice, and were talking about girls, and how far they’d got (probably more in their imaginations than in real life) and they both developed semis. What if Allan felt an urge to do something ‘rude’. Maybe he said, “I need a pee.” He would have got his tumescent cock out and aimed it at a tree, feeling exhilarated because it was broad daylight, outside, and he had his cock out. Perhaps James also joined in the fun? Two semi-swollen cocks, each boy glancing at the other.
I wonder who asked the question first? “Do you wank?” Was the answer true or just uttered to save face. “Yeah ‘course. Who doesn’t?” Then the first lad’s momentary fear that maybe the responder does it more than him. “Dare you to do it now!” Two emergent stags challenging each other to display their virility.
Maybe Allan grabs his cock and starts wanking, followed immediately by James. Their eyes glued on one another. Perhaps the air between them became filled with profanity. “Fuck….ohhh yeah…..oh fuck…gonna cum.” Did they compare the amount each one shot? If girls ejaculated semen, we would compare, that’s for sure.
And perhaps it became a permanent fixture for them until one day, Allan said, “Wanna do each other? You do me, I’ll do you?” James agreed, and now all that was left were the mechanics of how to accomplish it. Can’t lie down around here, not unless you want to be covered in rabbit droppings and fox and badger shit. So, standing then? Jame alongside Allan. James reaches for Allan’s cock and jacks him to orgasm.
Allan does it differently. He stands behind James and reaches round. This means he has to stand close - close enough for his softening cock to nestle against James’s bum. Maybe Allan undid James’s pants and tugged them and his boxers down? Now Allan’s cock is hardening again and tucked between the cheeks of James’s bum. Oh, nowhere near penetratively of course, just caressed. Allan jacks James expertly and soon James adds his semen to Allan’s on the forest floor, but as he cums, he convulses and this translates to Allan’s cock. Allan has another small orgasm, leaving his semen between the crack of James’s bum.
How often, I wonder, have they done this, and how far will they go with their innocent experimenting.
It’s only when I stand from my kneeling position in church that I realise how wet I am. I’ve daydreamed right through the Eucharistic prayer, and paid not the slightest attention to what the priest was saying. Not only am I wet, I can feel myself pulsing down there, and it’s not just my clit either. My whole vagina seems to be pulsing in time with my heartbeat. Miss Brain adds a few last brushstrokes to the painting she has created for me.
This time, I happen across them during their mutual masturbation in the woods. Oh of course, I’ve planned it. I know where they do it and when, and I’ve even found semen on the tree and the forest floor before now. Oh yes, I know exactly where their secret spot is. I find both boys pant-less and naked from the waist down, hard cocks jutting out proud and ready. There’s a scramble to dress themselves which I quell with a simple movement of lifting my dress up and over my head. I am, of course, naked underneath. They freeze in their tracks.
I walk towards them, gathering up first Allan with an arm around his waist, then taking James’s hand and pulling him close. I kiss both, first one, then the other. Wrapping my hands around their cocks, I find Allan to be ever so slightly thicker than James, but James is slightly longer than Allan. Slowly, I Jack them both, alternating my kissing as I go. I tell Allan to stand behind me and I lean slightly forward against a tree. I invite him to put it in me. He fumbles around, of course, uncertain, but he finds the right places eventually. It’s not a rapid thrust, far from it. It’s way more exploratory than that. I suppose pushing the most sensitive part of his body someplace it has never been before demands care be taken.
Finally, he is in me, filling me totally. He doesn’t last long. Of course he doesn’t. How could he? They’ve been fooling around before I got here and they’re both teenage boys! I feel him growing inside me and then…..now…. I feel Allan spurt in me. He grunts and holds my hips as he unloads. To me, it feels amazing.
James takes his place behind me. He pokes at me as Allan did and the top of him cock finds my bum hole, and finds it just right. “Careful,” Allan says “You’re gonna fuck her up her arse.” I give a push backwards to let James know I would have no objections. He is so slippery with pre-cum! I feel the head of his cock enter my bum but there simply isn’t enough lubrication.
I reach around and guide him to my cunt. He slides in me easily and fucks me vigorously. To my surprise, he is quite vocal, calling me a “Fucking slut.” I sense he enjoys the power of dirty words, as do I. I encourage him. “Yes, I’m your slut….your whore….fuck me…cum in my cunt.” The last word acts like a trigger and he shoots his load in me.
People are moving now, walking up the aisle to receive communion. I’m moving too, but in the opposite direction. I leave the church and walk over to the small church hall where the toilets are located. In there, I deal with my drenched panties, I love it when my panties get so wet that if I squeeze them, there are drips that form between my fingers….and that heavenly, musky scent that is pure female arousal….and have two exquisite orgasms thinking about my two choirboys.
Reality check
I know their names only because I overheard them being called by the organist. They really are Allan and James. These two people do exist. Ages? I really don’t know, but I would imagine 16/17. They have that look that’s somewhere while there are vestiges of their boyhood still remaining, there is slightly more man that boy about them. I really have seen them on the path in the woods, but I have no evidence to suggest they’ve ever done anything more than walk home that way.
Then there’s me. I am perfectly capable of fucking a complete stranger…or strangers. In fact, it’s on my bucket list. (Or should that be ‘fuck it’ list?) Would I arrange it that I happen upon them in the woods? Might I reverse the situation, and let them find me masturbating on or near the little footpath they use? What if I did find them wanking off together? Would I perhaps just watch? Would I join in, wanking myself in secret while peering through the undergrowth at them? I’m capable of all these things. Would I actually do them? Maybe, maybe not.
Still….a girl can dream, right?
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