Jenna and the Church Trip Ch. 03

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A statue is fine too...
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/13/2023
Created 01/20/2023
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Blacksheep
Blacksheep
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"What a night," Gordon groaned, as he sat down at the breakfast table with Ahmed and Barry. "I've never endured hell such as this. You'd get better treatment in prison than this hotel!"

"Fancy a ghost choosing to haunt your room," Barry chuckled. "Not sure who I should feel more sorry for - you or the ghost!"

"It's not funny Barry! I was almost bloody shitting myself. It was terrifying!" Gordon snapped back.

"Aye, the sight of you in your y-fronts is enough to terrify anything!"

"That must be why it never followed you into our room," Ahmed interrupted, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Presently, Jenna and Reverend Morris entered the dining room. "Morning boys! Ooh, so you saw the ghost too? Simon and I saw him...the headless preacher!"

"Yes, he just appeared in our room when we were er..." Reverend Morris began, and then he started to blush.

"Unpacking our bags," Jenna continued. "There he was, just standing by the side of the bed. I was so scared!" She added, lying of course.

"We didn't see any ghost, but the washbasin in our room doesn't work," Josh said. "The water won't come out. Just black stuff!"

"Same here," Gordon replied. "I got a sink full of soil!"

"According to an old bloke I met in the lounge, it's not soil at all, but gunpowder." Norman said, placing a plate loaded with what looked like inedible food on the table.

"Gunpowder? That's bollocks," Barry laughed. "You're not going to eat any of that are you? I'd say there's more toxic waste on your plate than in Chernobyl."

"Hmm," Norman poked at the carcinogenic-looking sausages, which were virtually cremated. The bacon, if one could call it that, was not so much swimming in oil but drowned in it. The scrambled egg looked worse.

"Don't eat any of that scrambled egg," Gordon said. "Apart from looking like dog puke, it tastes like it too."

"Thanks," Norman grimaced, pushing the plate away. "Suddenly I've lost my appetite. I think...I'll skip breakfast and buy something to eat later.

Reverend Morris looked at Jenna and shook his head. "Well, maybe the trip to the museum will be more...enjoyable?"

She smiled back and squeezed his thigh under the table. "I'm sure it will."

The small group boarded the minibus, ready for the short journey into the centre of Epworth.

"What's this place we're going to?" Jenna asked, as Reverend Morris checked his smartphone.

"Well unfortunately, the Old Rectory, which is the birthplace of John and Charles Wesley, is currently closed for the winter season. It reopens in April."

A chorus of groans echoed through the bus.

Gordon rolled his eyes. "Oh this just gets better, Vicar. What travel agent offers holidays to see a museum which is closed until April, in January?"

"Oh Simon, this is so disappointing. I really wanted to see the birthplace of the Wesleys!" Jenna sighed.

"I know, I know. I'm disappointed too. As a compromise, there is another museum a few miles away, called Epworth Fields Museum. It's small, but there are some great 17th and 18th century exhibits there, so that's where we're heading."

"I'd have more fun wandering round Tesco," Gordon muttered to Barry."

"I'd have more fun with the vicar's wife," Barry replied.

"Oho! You've changed your tune. What happened to 'dream on, she's way too old for you?' You're older than I am!"

"Yes well...that was before." Barry paused.

"Before what?"

Barry took a deep breath. "Look, if I tell you, promise me you won't say anything?"

"I'm all ears," Gordon said. "And relax, your secret's safe with me."

Barry started whispering and told his cousin about the fateful gloryhole encounter.

Epworth Fields Museum was a three-storey Georgian building would never rival the British Museum or the Tower of London in terms of interesting exhibits, but it was better than nothing. An added bonus was that entry was free.

After looking round some of the rooms, the group split up and began doing their own thing. Reverend Morris was engaged in a long conversation with a member of staff, who was also a vicar. Feeling bored, Jenna wandered off. She wondered where Gordon and the others had gone. Horniness was gnawing at her again. She headed towards the south end of the second floor. At the end of the long corridor, she pushed through a heavy door and stepped onto a landing. She descended the stairs, her footsteps echoing off the painted walls. The sound was so hollow and cold that she might have been in a vast pyramid or some other ancient structure, alone but for the companionship of unseen spirits.

Being a cold Tuesday morning in January, the museum was severely lacking in visitors. The place had an abandoned air, and she was suddenly aware that she was alone on this floor. As she reached for the handle of the door that led to the first-floor corridor, she thought she heard someone whisper her name. Jenna went through the door and found that the lower corridor was carpeted in the same hideous orange nylon as was the upper one. The decorator had a clown's taste for bright colours. It made her squint.

"Pretty sure this isn't authentic 18th century," she said to herself. A display board caught her eye. It was all about John and Charles Wesley. She recognised their portraits immediately.

"It was an honour to meet you last year John," Jenna said, smiling at the portrait of the white-haired Methodist minister. "Wish I could've met your brother as well...I wonder if his cock is as big as yours?" She pulled out her smartphone and took a photo of the images.

Suddenly, she heard the door at the head of the stairs open with a faint but protracted squeak of hinges. She stepped back, expecting someone to descend from the second floor, but no-one appeared.

"Huh, weird," she said. Without thinking, Jenna leaned against the wood-panelled wall, which was actually a concealed doorway. It suddenly opened, and Jenna screamed as she went tumbling into a dark passage. The wood-panelled door slid shut behind her, and nothing but her smartphone remained on the floor of the corridor...

Jenna staggered to her feet. "Where am I? Looks like there's some sort of secret room here...oh wow, I can't see a thing in here!"

A light clicked on. Jenna assumed it was a motion-activated sensor. The small room was crammed with furniture that was covered in dust sheets. Old exhibits that the museum no longer wished to display, damaged stuff, spare panels. It reminded her of the storeroom in the church hall.

"I'd better get out of here, there might be CCTV or something." The last thing she wanted was to be accused of stealing.

"Oh I assure you, we are completely unobserved," a male voice uttered.

"Who said that?" Jenna spun round. She appeared to be alone in the room. Was there a hidden microphone somewhere?"

"Over here," the voice said again. "In the corner."

Jenna cautiously walked around the shrouded furniture. "Where are you?"

"Right in front of you my dear!"

Jenna looked straight ahead. A six-foot tall bronze statue of a man was standing in the corner. As she looked closely, she realised that it was a statue of Charles Wesley.

"Ohh a statue of Charles!" She exclaimed, reaching out to touch it, and the statue's mouth relaxed into a smile.

"Greetings Jenna."

"Eep!" Jenna stumbled backwards and almost tripped over a chair.

"My apologies for scaring you. I thought you wished to meet me," the statue replied.

"My dear brother John has told me so much about you."

Jenna blinked, her jaw dropping. "He has?"

"Indeed yes! He told me you were a very special lady. Not many could unleash such a power as to return a trapped soul back to God's realm. It's an honour to meet you. I just had to meet you!"

"It's an honour to meet you too Charles! I love your hymns! How...are you a statue? And why has the museum shoved you in this dusty little storeroom? You should be on display."

Charles chuckled. "Oh I assure you I'm not actually a statue. I just sort of possessed this statue so I could have a solid body, as it were."

"Hmm, I see." Jenna wondered how this could be. After all, John had been perfectly solid when he'd appeared as a ghost. Evidently all ghosts were different.

"My statue has been in this room for a long time," Charles continued. "My plinth is damaged. And I'm missing one of my fingers on my left hand - look!" He raised his hand. "It broke off. I suppose that is why the museum shoved me in here? Maybe they forgot about me, or couldn't afford the repairs?"

Jenna was dismayed that a statue of her favourite historical figure had been dumped in storage like an unwanted toy.

"I wonder if the museum would let me buy your statue? How magnificent you'd look, standing in the vicarage's garden!"

"You'd really do that for me?"

"Of course I would! I'm sure your plinth can be easily fixed. We have an enormous garden...you could stand next to the sundial. And every year, I could put a wreath by your plinth to honour your birthday..."

"Mmm...may I kiss you Jenna?" The statue whispered, and Jenna smirked back at him.

"I thought you'd never ask!"

Charles kissed her cheek. "A man should always respond to a lady in a polite manner." Now Jenna was curious at just how this was going to unfold.

He took her gently in his arms and kissed her jawline and neck with a tenderness and passion that one would never expect a statue to have.

Jenna wanted to speak, but couldn't. His kisses were intoxicating, and she was powerless to resist.

Not caring that another member of staff could enter the storeroom at any time, Jenna allowed Charles to undress her. He pulled her to the floor and unfastened his breeches.

"Ohh just as big as John's!" said Jenna, marvelling as she took in the sight of Charles' enormous cock for the first time. The moisture between her legs had now grown so great that it actually began to drip down the inside of her thigh.

"I'll be gentle, my dearest one," the statue smiled.

He shifted his position again, placed one hand beside her shoulder and advanced his knees between Jenna's parted lower limbs. In his other hand, he took his member and placed it at the entry to her pussy. He paused a moment and pushed forward. Jenna gave a brief wince - he was huge, and his cock, being made of bronze, was damned cold at first! Charles began to thrust.

He pulled his hips back so that his hard cock withdrew partially from her sweet grip. He pushed forward again and buried himself back inside her. Jenna moaned at the sensation of him moving in her.

"Oh yes...please. More!"

The feel of her wet flesh slipping over his sensitive head and shaft sent a shiver through him and he grunted from the pleasure of it.

Suddenly, Jenna's eyes opened wide in surprise and delight and she gasped. She moaned and wrapped her legs around Charles to rock herself against him. She breathed harder and faster until she shuddered and cried out loud as she climaxed and writhed beneath him.

"Ah...ah...ah!"

Charles felt his cock aching with the rising and uncontrollable tide of approaching release. He shouted his delight as he spurted his cum deep inside her.

"Ahh Jenna! Praise the Lord!"

The trip to the museum had come to an end. Reverend Morris and the rest of the group had assembled in the foyer.

"Okay everyone, time to head back to the minibus. Are we all here? Oh wait...where's Jenna?"

"Haven't seen her since we arrived," Gordon said. "Maybe she's still upstairs?"

"I'll ring her phone," the vicar replied. It rang for a bit and then went to voicemail.

"Hmm, she's not answering. Right, I'll go and look for her."

In the storeroom, tired and sweaty, Jenna still had her arms wrapped round the statue of Charles Wesley.

"Ooh I so needed that," she whispered, enjoying the sensation of cold bronze against her bare skin. "Charles are you...Charles?" Jenna opened her eyes and stood up. The statue was no longer alive, but just a normal statue.

"Did I send him back to the other side?" She wondered, as she got dressed. "Oh well. I finally got to meet Charles Wesley...and he was amazing! She planted a kiss on the statue's cheek. "I have got to liberate you from this storeroom!"

Reverend Morris hurried along the first floor corridor. "Jenna, where are you? It's time to leave! Oh!" He noticed an iPhone on the carpet.

"Why that's her phone!" He bent down and picked it up. "Oh God, what's happened to her?"

Suddenly, a concealed door in the wall panelling creaked open and Jenna appeared. Reverend Morris almost had a heart attack.

"Oh hello my love!" Jenna said. "Have you been looking for me? Sorry, I couldn't find the way back out and I dropped my phone."

"That's okay, I'm just glad you're safe," Reverend Morris replied, handing her phone back. "What were you doing in there?"

"I just sort of fell into this hidden room," Jenna smiled, fiddling with her hair. "Listen Simon, there's a statue of Charles Wesley in there. Do you think the museum would sell it to me?"

Later...

"Most people are content with an overpriced mug or chocolates from the gift shop," Ahmed said as he, Josh and Barry loaded the statue of Charles Wesley onto the minibus. "First time I've ever seen someone buy a statue as a souvenir!"

"I just had to buy him," Jenna smiled. "I thought £300 was an absolute bargain. The statue dates back to 1925. It used to stand in the museum lobby, but it got damaged and they put it in storage nearly twenty years ago."

"Definitely a bargain," Reverend Morris replied. "You're an expert at haggling! I didn't think they'd agree to sell it, but the staff seemed glad to be rid of it! You're right, he will look lovely standing in the garden. Mr Wesley was such a good Christian and hymnwriter, so a vicarage garden is perfect for him!"

"I'm so glad Charles is coming to a good home," Jenna said. First a ghost and now a statue. This holiday is turning out to be great fun! She thought.

At the back of the bus, the statue gave a wink.

Blacksheep
Blacksheep
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