Ch. 2: Preacher's Daughter
b y Jimi Linden ©
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The story you are about to read is true. All events and behavior are faithful accounts of past occurrences, although names have been altered to protect my ass and keep me out of court. Writer's license and humble discretion have been utilized where and when I felt it necessary to avoid embarrassment or legal action.
Susie, my girlfriend, lover, sharemate and fiancé had proven to be as sexually liberated as I could possibly dream of. Our mutual virginal liberation in a classroom of our church released inhibitions neither of us realized we were suppressing.
Because I now had transportation when required, we were able to consummate our reciprocal sexual insatiabilities repeatedly. More importantly than our copulation was the freedom we now had to communicate.
Susie, being an avid reader of women's magazines, led me to the realization that sexual fantasies were not only common, but also normal and expected. It didn't take us long to share the information that we were both lustfully attracted to our best friends. What took time was deciding how to convert them to our broad-minded desires.
Now that I had a car I could use there was no longer the desperate incentive to double date which had drawn the four of us together previously. Surprisingly though little changed as we soon discovered that half the fun of our shared trysts was both the companionship and the voyeurism. The only noticeable difference our loss of virginity had triggered was that now both front and back seats were engaged in fornication.
Dotty eventually challenged Susie about our gymnastics and admitted that she and Chuck had been surreptitiously watching us for the past few dates. Susie countered with the revelation that she and I had been doing the same thing previously. The girls then devised a conspiracy for the next weeks get together.
Chuck and I were deeply into (no pun intended) our evening's explorations of our dates the following week when both girls suddenly had to urinate. We were far up on the East mesa and well above the luminescence of city lights. It was a very dark, moonless night so they slipped behind the car while Chuck and I waited impatiently with our mutually concealed throbbing erections. The girls slipped back into the car's obscure blackness and immediately impaled themselves on our impatiently waiting shafts. This was something so unexpected, because normally both couples hid from each other below the level of the seat back, that Chuck and I both almost lost our rigidity. Of course because we were young neither of us was long in recovering.
Then almost simultaneously we realized something was not quite right. I heard Chuck's muffled "Susie?!?!" just as I started to pull away from my crotch-mate but was silenced and held by a strong, deep kiss. Then Dotty trailed kisses down my cheek and whispered into my ear, "Shut up and enjoy. Susie and I know what we're doing so don't you mess things up. Besides, I want to feel you fuck me. Do you think you can do that? Fuck me! Push it deep up inside me so I can feel your desire."
I couldn't have stopped then if I wanted to. I was hooked. I also was so horny I came almost immediately but so did Chuck so I didn't feel too bad.
Neither girl left the lap of her recent lover, but we all four sat up and talked for a few minutes. More correctly, Susie and Dotty talked while Chuck and I stuttered.
"God, that was fantastic. Now I know what you've been enjoying up here", Susie giggled at Dotty. Then looking at me she asked, "Any problems? Do you feel cheated or cheated upon?"
"Uh, no", I mumbled realizing that if I said yes it would sound like I felt Dotty was a gyp. "But what do we do now? Are you guys trying to tell Chuck and me that you want to change boyfriends?" I asked with more than a little bit of hurt in my voice.
"Why, would you be terribly disappointed to have me as your girlfriend?" Dotty teased me. "Is Susie better than me?"
Before I could choke on my own foot, Chuck finally found his voice and whined, "Dotty, I love you. I don't want anyone else. I thought we were going to get married?"
Now it was Susie's turn to kid a bit. "Oh, so you didn't like me, huh?"
"No! Yeah! I mean, you were great", Chuck blurted, "But I love Dotty!"
Even though Dotty was still straddling my body above a horribly flaccid member she still was able to discuss the situation quite calmly. "Susie and I just wanted to see what you guys felt like. Is it really so different than if we had traded bights of food to discover how something different might taste? That's it! We just wanted to trade with each other to sample something different. Now that I have, I think I'll appreciate and love you even more than I ever have before Chuck."
"Amen", Susie agreed. "I don't want to change anything, except how I feel. And the way I feel right now is closer than I've ever felt to any of you before."
Than she climbed over into the back seat with me and said, "I love you! I love the feel of your body when we make love. I never want to love another man as long as I live." Then just as I was feeling stupidly secure, she continued, "But I also enjoyed the feeling of 'a little bit of strange'. Is that so terrible of me? Didn't you enjoy the feel of Dotty? Does that mean you have to have a lifetime commitment to her? Couldn't you occasionally have sex with her just because you're friends and enjoy the experience of each other?
Chuck and I looked at each other and shrugged. Neither of us knew how to handle these two emotionally mature (of course we didn't recognize that analysis right then) women who both of us loved.
I tentatively mumbled, "It was kind of fun".
"What? I couldn't hear you," Dotty barked.
"It was kind of fun," I said louder.
Both girls beamed so brightly I thought the dome light had come on.
And that was the beginning of our period of sexual freedom, carnal experimentation and free love. Each of us was destined to attend different colleges so we now felt free to date and do whatever we pleased with the knowledge that we would have secure relationships awaiting us upon graduation.
I met and dated a young lady from the music department at UNM and through her began attending another church. Understand I'm not necessarily so religiously inclined that I must attend a church. My basic religion has always been sex. I do maintain though that there's no place sexier than a church. Where else can one find so many women, many of whom are quite sexually deprived, dressed up in skirts, hose and heels
Soon after I started to attend services at a this new and different denomination I met another young lady whose company I thoroughly enjoyed. We had many similar interests and attitudes. We both sang in the Youth Choir, both enjoyed the same type of church sponsored extracurricular activities and both hated sports. Though both of us were a bit shy when confronted with one-on-one relationships we were still notorious cut-ups when in a group. Many times while our peers were engaged in some type of activity that the two of us found uninviting (volleyball, ping pong, etc.), we would drift off together to walk and talk ... and scheme.
Both of us had a reputation for causing and enjoying good clean fun. We were particularly fond of causing that fun in league with our church environment. Often as our group met for youth fellowship either or both of us would have a joke, cartoon or humorous comment to share. We were also infamous for our choir loft behavior (or misbehavior). As I said before, there's no place sexier than a church and within that environment there's no better hunting grounds than the youth groups. Everybody in these groups is young, horny and assumed "trustworthy"! Heh! Heh! Heh!
The front of the main chapel in our church featured a raised stage with a lectern on each side. From the audience point of view the left podium was for the Assistant Pastor and the right podium was for the Minister. The two step high preacher's dais was a carpeted stage about twenty feet wide and eight feet deep. Behind this platform rose a white wall about ten feet tall, above which the choir was assembled in a risered gallery. Even though the church had a balcony, no one in the audience could see more of the seated choir than the uppermost parts of our bodies.
Carolyn and I had been known to quietly pass choir books down the row; opened to pre-selected pages with paper clipped notes, which read "BETWEEN THE SHEETS". Many church hymns with those particular words added to the title, become quite risqué. Think of "He Leadeth Me", "He Is Risen", "My Savior Cometh", "The Beautiful Garden Of Prayer" or even "Onward Christian Soldiers".
Because only our head and shoulders could be seen Carolyn and I were always trying to elicit a reaction from one of the other choir members visible to the general congregation. We would try to find the most outlandish titles possible in the hopes of at least bringing a grin to someone's face if not actually causing them to conspicuously giggle. If the hymnal titles trick didn't work, on occasion we might quietly pass a piece of tightly wadded underclothing from hand to hand down the rows of pious teenage singers. Inevitably someone would have to uncrumple the bundle to see what it was. Surprisingly no one ever tattled though, perhaps at least partly because nobody wished to antagonize Carolyn, since she was the minister's daughter.
One time Carolyn, having failed to shake the troops up with anything else, pulled a bra from under her choir robe and sent it to me by hand-to-hand express. I'm quite sure her idea was to turn my face scarlet but I saw the garment coming. Thinking fast, I autographed it, handed the pen and bra to the bass sitting next to me and indicated with quiet gestures that he should sign it and send it back to the soprano section. By the time she got her underclothing back, it was quite covered with names and short irreverent messages. The youth choir was choking on their suppressed giggles and most were fighting hard to display a stoic face to the congregation.
Though we were both the type of people who touch each other as they communicate, nothing of an intimate or sexual nature had ever developed between us. We could hold hands (to assist in climbing for instance), hug at times when we came together after an absence and even bus each other's cheek with a platonic kiss when friendship allowed such a display. We had even double dated on a couple of occasions.
All this changed one evening when Carolyn was asked to lock up the church building after Sunday evening activities. Her minister father had an appointment across town and needed to leave early. Having overheard this exchange I offered her a ride home after she was through securing the building. Though I really had other plans, we were much too good friends for me to do otherwise. The pastor thanked me profusely and told me how much he appreciated a thoughtful young man such as myself.
We ascertained that everyone had vacated the structure, then we went from room to room turning out lights errantly left burning. Carolyn started at the top of the building and I began in the deepest nether regions of the basement. The church, being a fairly large building, had a sanctuary that could seat almost a thousand people. Classrooms dominated the second floor behind the balcony while the main floor contained offices under the choir loft and around the vestibule that filled the space below the balcony. The basement, where I started checking for forgotten lights, had at least thirty small rooms, a large recreational hall and a small chapel for times when the upstairs theatre was not intimate enough.
Because the upstairs, large as it was, had fewer rooms to check than the basement I was still peeking into rooms when Carolyn came downstairs. Thinking to startle me, she slipped into the small chapel, turned on the reading lamp on the podium and darkened the rest of the room. She then slipped behind some drapes that bracketed the entrance door.
with all the many small rooms, I secured the kitchen area, turned out
the last of the lights in the recreation hall and proceeded to the small
chapel. As I entered, the doors closed automatically behind me. Seeing
that there was a very small light up front (the reading lamp) I flipped
on the overhead fixtures and plodded down the aisle. No sooner had I turned
off the offending little lamp than Carolyn flipped the overhead fixtures
was split into 3 parts. Jump to any of the segments from here:
|Another top quality story by Jimi Linden.|
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