The School Concert

So what could we do, we thought, that would allow us a little sexiness in public. My little group of hormonal bitches set ourselves the following targets.

1) put together something that would get us into the show.

2) make certain there was a sexual element to it - even if it was something as basic as sitting up on stage playing a guitar with our knees slightly more open than is decent. 

In the end, we opted for a dance. White leotards, a white chiffon (and totally unprotective) skirt, and a theme. Our theme was the Holy Spirit. We would be the Holy Spirit, being sent down to the world, and to everyone on earth. 

It involved a lot of floating about on stage, then running down through the audience, wafting our chiffon skirts over people’s heads. Yes, I know, utter crap, wasn’t it? But the nuns loved it! They made only one change when we auditioned. White chiffon capes would be much better, they said. They were right, but not for the reasons they imagined. 

So, step one, make sure no unsightly pubes would creep into the performance which means shaving, which also meant an opportunity for a wank along the way. (Apart from Sarah, who decided that she’d rather like a few ‘spider legs’ on display. Oh well, each to their own.) 

Step two choose a leotard one size too small. Not one that would disappear up our arses or give us a camel toe while we presented our costumes for approval unfortunately), but one that would do both of these things the moment we started our dance. We had promised ourselves that before we went on for our three minutes of glory, we would go to the restroom, have a cum and make sure our floaty cape (the nuns had decided white chiffon capes would be better suited) would have our scent on them before we started draping them over peoples’ faces. We went to the restroom together, and had ourselves what boys might call a ‘circle jerk’. 

Oh, also, one more thing, we made a pact we wouldn’t shower for two days beforehand. Nothing like a group of sweaty adolescents. 

Our (then) Parish Priest came to oversee the proceedings, and Sister Assumpta Was in full ‘penguin’ announcing each act as it took to the stage. 

Then it was our turn. We faffed around on stages, starting off line astern of each other, everyone moving arms together, before spreading out into a ‘V’ formation. Then there was a lot of twirling together, during which times we fell back into each other’s arms symbolic of ‘trust in the Spirit, but in reality a chance to cop a feel of each other’s boobs. And then down the side steps into the audience, wafting our cum soaked capes over whomsoever we thought might enjoy it. Male or female! I even targeted a young nun who, I was sure, used to look at us with slightly more than sisterly interest. 

By the time we had got halfway round that hall, our leotards were in our arses and each one of us had a camel toe to be proud of….and, because we had all orgasmed prior to going out there, we were all leaking cum into the material. It felt, and smelled fucking gorgeous. 

Finally we got to the back of the hall, at which point we had to run down the side aisles, capes billowing behind us, back onto the stage where we arranged ourselves into the shape of a cross. Talk about irreverence! Oh, and utter shit too. We’ve all seen school concerts where utter crap is presented, yet everyone looks at it, claps and says how wonderful it was. 

And we thought we’d got away with it too. Right up until we were called to Sister Assumpta’s office at 9:00 the next morning. 

There are few things as hilariously funny as an elderly nun trying to tear you off a strip while not being able to find the words she really wanted to say. 

It was all “YOU….you went out there, smelling like you hadn’t had a bath for a week…and those costumes….right up…well…didn’t you realise….Holy Mother of God, sure, couldn’t we alll see your….well….everything! D’ya hear me girls? EVERYTHING! D’ya understand me?” A chorus of “Not really sister” followed, and she attempted to say “We could see your arses and your cunts” in ‘nun-speak’ which doesn’t allow the use of such words. In the end she took to referring to our vaginas as “…the seat of feminine sin”. Huh…’seat’…I guess that’s why some folk call it a ‘front bottom’. Anyway, we managed to look suitably abashed, and we joined each other after school in the chapel, rosary in hand, kneeling, as always with this wretched nun, on the sharpest piece of shinty concrete in front of the statue of Our Lady, praying the full Rosary, in Latin, while she stood over us. As those sharp, bastard pieces of flint drew blood from our knees, we felt an inner jubilant eat having got one over on ‘’the system’, done precisely what we set out to do, and reminded certain people…the young nun in particular…that there was more to life than celibacy! 

I later learned that when this chapel was built, the nuns actually requested that the flooring here would be embedded with flint as ‘penance’ for sins. Catholicism = penance. Pain and blood as well, preferably. Around here, it’s possible to tell if a woman had ever attended that school merely by a quick glance at her knees. 

Still, we managed it, and managed it proudly! An orgasm each, showing off our ‘bits’, and floating sweaty cum over people. Like the Holy Spirit, we ‘came’ upon people. 

I hope they felt moved by the experience.