The Birthday Suit Club - Tracey's Story

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A girl does an amazing performance.
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Jamie753
Jamie753
249 Followers

If you've read "The Birthday Suit Club, The Beginning" you know how this all started. If not, then here is a brief recap. I was severely burned as a child which lead to me becoming very reclusive as a teenager.

My sister, Gail, decided that I needed to have more social contacts. When she caught me trying to overhear her telling a friend of hers about a recent episode during which she had flashed her knockers for a bunch of cops and a couple of robbers. She decided that this was an opportunity she could use.

She made a bargain with me to have some of her girlfriends from college come over and tell me their exposure stories in exchange for me letting them into my home.

This may not sound like much to you, but I have endured looks of disgust or pity or revolt since the fire, so you may be able to appreciate what it takes for a teenage boy to risk that kind of rejection from girls.

On my part I agreed with two conditions, one that the lights be kept low to minimize the risk of the girls' reactions and two that I be allowed to write these stories down. Gail agreed provided I ensured that the girls' identities be concealed. I accepted her condition.

I record these stories and I try to write them in the girl's own words. This is Tracey's story.

Looking back on it even now, I still can't believe the series of coincidences that had to take place for this incident to have occurred. The first thing was that it had to be a Sunday when I was scheduled to perform a two-song solo during the church service. Since I don't perform often the odds of all these factors happening together is exceedingly remote.

However, I occasionally did, and for that matter still do, sing or perform in a play at church. I enjoy singing and the people in my church seem to enjoy it also. We, the other people who occasionally perform as well as myself, are sometimes asked at the last minute if say, someone else can't make it. This time though I had been planning to sing for several weeks.

But back to my story. The second factor was that one of the youths had dropped a bottle of orange juice while working in the kitchen during our fellowship breakfast. Our church usually has a fellowship breakfast once a quarter. When you consider that we only have four fellowship breakfasts during an entire year, what are the chances that the breakfast would happened to be the same Sunday I was to perform. I'd have to guess the odds would be fairly small.

Usually when I sing at church I'm confident enough about my preparation that I participate in the service and just come out of the congregation when it my time. However this Sunday I was still a little nervous about the second song so I staying in the fellowship hall to review the words a few more times. This was only the second time I can remember not sitting in the chapel prior to performing.

So here are the factors, one I'm performing a solo, two its the same Sunday as the fellowship breakfast, three I'm too nervous to wait out front like normal. Factor number four, Mrs. Williams, who could dodge rain drops in a thunderstorm, stumbles while carrying the bucket of mopped up orange juice and nails me with the contents. I mean I was drenched.

Nowadays I wish I could have a picture of what my expression must have looked like. It must have been hilarious. But it certainly wasn't to me at that moment. Mrs. Williams was mortified. I was stunned for lack of a better word. And in walks my mother, factor number five.

If mom hadn't come in, I'm sure I would have had someone tell the pastor that I couldn't perform and I would have gone home. However, Mom pointed out that although my clothes were ruined, none of the mess had got on face or hair. She had me go in the bathroom where I removed the still dripping garments. I mean, even my shoes were soaked.

Mrs. Williams brought me a bunch of towels from the kitchen and I dried myself off. Mom in the meantime had gone to the choir loft and brought me back one of the choir's old robes. I'm sure you know the kind I'm talking about, the one that fastens at the back of the neck and has enough material to qualify as an army surplus tent.

Factor number six was the robe itself. These old robes were deep blue and even with all that was going on I still noticed that the robe really set off my blonde hair. Something else that I sort of noticed was that this robe was pretty long, at least on me. It must have been one of the men's robes.

I remember that I thought it looked like one of those long, flowing wedding gowns like they put in the magazines. The ones where there is no way the bride could have ever walked in those gowns.

The funny thing was that with all that had happened in the last few minutes I had lost my nervousness. I mean I was really ready to perform.

And then it was time for me to make my entrance. I enter the side door to the left of the dais and careful to hold up the bottom of the robe so I wouldn't trip, stepped up onto the platform. I introduced the first song and gave the sound man, our church has a sound room for controlling the different mics and speakers, the signal to begin.

The first song went great. The music was at the perfect level, my timing was right on cue and the audience really got into it. It was magnificent.

Then things started changing. I don't know why. I'd never done it before, can't remember doing it since, but I took a bow. Remember I mentioned that our robes fasten at the back of the neck. When I took the bow the robe parted and slipped forward, leaving my naked ass prominently exhibited to the choir. And as luck would have it, the choir on that Sunday was the Senior Men's Choir.

I was also exposed to the minister, who being a gentlemen quickly stepped forward intending to pull the robe sides together. Unfortunately this fact and the length of the robe allowed his foot to land on a fold of the robe where it had bunched when it swung forward. This put his foot about eighteen inches above where the robe would have contacted the floor if I were standing upright.

But before he could reach me I realized what had happened and sprang back erect. Do you recall that I said that this was one of the old robes?

Well between the pastor's foot on the fold and my surge upright the button at the neck gave up the struggle. Like it was two minutes ago I can remember my first thought. "How can I be so cold and hot at the same time?" Now I realize that I was cold because I had been sweating inside that heavy material and now I was exposed to the air conditioning. And I was hot because my whole body was blushing.

I still can't think of a word that accurately describes my emotional state. Here I was total naked in front of all the people I had grown up with in my church. What could possibly be worst?

I mean Miss Jane, who was my first real Sunday School teacher was in the first row. She almost spit out her false teeth. And there behind her was Mr. Douglas who I had a crush on when I was in the first grade. He almost fell off his chair. On the other side aisle was Billy, the boy I had a crush on then. No more secrets from him.

One of the usher taking up the collection tipped the collection plate and half the collection spilled down Judy Long's open neck blouse. If you knew Judy you'd know that there was plenty of room for the coins to hide.

And my preacher was standing there, too stunned to move or shift his eyes from my nakedness, his mouth moving like a fish out of water.

Fortunately just when I was ready to bolt out of the church and never come back, old Mr. McDonald, the Senior Men's Choir director, took off his new, black robe and draped it around me.

I'll never forget what happened next. He whispered to me, saying, "Tracey you can run, it's the natural reaction, but if you do what everyone will remember is you standing here naked at the pulpit. Or," and he paused slightly, "you can sing the other song and most will remember your bravery. And the others who don't won't be worth the salt in your tears."

I hadn't realized till then that I was crying. He gave the sound man the signal and bless his heart he punched up the tape. Standing there holding Mr. Donald's robe shut with one hand and the mic in the other I sang that second song with everything I had.

When I finished the congregation just sat there for a minute, there was no sound from the church. I could hear the hiss as the tape continued for another couple of seconds. Then the whole church erupted into applause. Everyone was standing and cheering. Part of it was for the song and part of it was for me.

Later Billy and I dated for a while, but it didn't work out and we parted as friends. And you know he never brought up the incident. Not to put pressure on me for sex or to gloat or anything. That song and that day have become very special to me. I've only sung that song in front of someone else once since that Sunday.

It was a couple of years later and Mr. Donald was dying. He was being taken care of by his daughter and her family at his home. They wanted to go to their son's game and his daughter told me since Mr. Donald couldn't go he had asked I would come spend the evening with him. I was honored.

Without him there that day I might have never been able to walk in that church or maybe anywhere else in the community with my head up. Instead I've heard mothers tell their children that I'm the bravest person they know.

We both knew he didn't have long. He had kept a copy of the recording from that service. Our church records the services for our congregation's shut-ins.

He had played that tape so many times that it was worn and had a lot of static. Nevertheless, when the first song came on I sang along with the recording. Then when that song finished I reached over and turned off the tape recorder.

I stood up and reaching up behind my neck I unfastened the button at the neck of the dark blue robe I had changed into after his daughter's family had left for the game.

Just like the last time when I had worn that particular robe I was now stark naked in front of Mr. Donald, only this time when I sang the song it was without a mic and without his black robe.

He died two days later and I haven't sung that song for anyone since.

Jamie753
Jamie753
249 Followers
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3 Comments
WatcherRobWatcherRobabout 5 years ago
Goes to show

There are many benefits from going to church. It also shows Tracey had a wonderful sense of compassion.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 5 years ago
Great

Fantastic story, w/a great set up, and even better ending.

LeBaron1987LeBaron1987about 5 years ago
Remarkable

Remarkable story

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