I don't know if I mentioned this, but for a while, while our grandparents were alive, we were a highly devout Catholic family. It was rammed down Mum and Dad's throats, and also ours. Don't get me wrong, there is something comforting about a church, but I don't buy it when a celibate man tries to think he's Jesus. So, after my grandparents died, we became what the church calls 'lapsed'. For a while, the parrish priest pestered the fuck out of us since we were big contributors to the parrish funds until Dad saw him off the farm with a shotgun. But there was something I wanted to do......
White dress.....white socks, shoes. It almost looked like my First Cmmunion outfit. Empty church, smelling faintly of incense and polished wood and cut flowers as they do. I had decided to do the whole nine yards.....so I blessed myself, genuflected, and took a seat in a pew. I remembered how horny I used to feel here. There's something about being a young altar server and a pubescent teenager that seems to mix. I remembered the times me and another girl would dare each other to slip our panties off and have nothing on under our robes. We did that twice...totally naked under a white linen robe. I remembered how I felt, holding a large candle and kneeling there like so, a kind of sacrificial virgin. I remembered the priest and the nuns who would lecture us in the youth club about 'sins of the flesh' and I wondered what they knew about it. Those 'sins' felt pretty fucking good to me. There was one nun among them, a very young nun called Sister Constance. She was veery young compared to the others. I'd guess most of the small convent we had were over 50 but sister Constance was in her early 20's. I used to wonder if she masturbated. I couldn't imagine for a second that she could help it. If she was half as horny as I was, and living with all those old women, it must have been hell for her. I got up and walked to the stairs leading to the organ/choir loft. From up there, there is a view of the whole church and the scent of incense is even stronger. I sat on the front bench and hitched my dress right up. I had nothing underneath, and my little bald quim was already gaping, eager to be filled. I even put my feet up on the wooden partition. I guess in a way I was cheating. There was no way I could have been seen if anyone had walked in, still, masturbating in a church is quite a thing in itself. My own scent started to mix with the incense, and I gently caressed my boobs, thinking of sister Constance. I was partly imagining her, and partly thinking about a young priest who was with our parrish for a while. Fr. James had come straight from the seminary, and every teenager flirted with him. Fuck, most of the women in the parrish flirted with him! If people were honest (which mostly, they aren't) I bet the confessional was full of "I masturbated over you last night, father". So, I let my mind wander. Fr. James was stroking my breasts while Sister Constance was kneeling between my legs saying her rosary, and at the end of each decade, she would lean forward and kiss my quim. Back in the real world, I was alternating between giving my tits some attention, and lightly touching my clit. Then I thought of Fr. James getting his priestly cock out, and Sister Constance guiding him inside me, I imagine him screwing me right there on that hard wooden bench while Sister Constance stood, legs astride me, lifted her habit up and making me lick her cunt. I had two fingers inside me at this point and was in a lovely rhythm. I love a little pain, and the hardness of the bench on my bones provided just enough. "Ahhh yes.....fuck me, father, for I have sinned." I closed my eyes again, and thought back to Sister Constance. My dirty mind made me imagine her pussy as bald and, naughty girl, pierced. Perhaps she had it done as a penance. I licked at her cunny, drinking her virgin juices while Fr. James screwed me. I felt something I get sometimes. I call it a pre-orgasm. It's a full orgasmic contraction, but I can stop it, and delay the full thing for a few seconds. In that instant I imagined the priest ejaculating inside me. I turned the feeling in my head into one where it was his cum I felt, not mine. Then I imagined Sister Constance, who, by now had cum in my mouth, hop down in a flurry of robes, and kneel between my legs. As she sucked the priests cum from my hole, I had my orgasm. I didn't even bother to keep it quiet. I just let myself cum, and moan, and squirt right there on that bench. I hope when someone is up there next, they smell something more than incense. I'm really enjoying my solo life at the moment. I do miss the touch of another person, and if the conditions were right, I wouldn't say no, but I don't want hot, raunchy, angry violent fucking at the moment.
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