Reverend Martin Jones was ruminating. He was alone. He was standing in the vestry of his modest church. More of a chapel really. He was surrounded by cassocks and other vestments, some neatly hung, some piled in corners waiting their turn. And all around the special and quite particular smell of vestries everywhere. A sort of mustiness unique to well used clerical clothing. His own clerical clothing was undone. Well, at least his trouser fly was open. He had his cock out. And he was gently massaging it to assist him in his ruminations. It was a big stiff cock, and quite popular with some of the ladies of the parish. On an occasional basis, of course. He wondered sometimes if they compared notes. But today his thoughts were directed elsewhere.
Martin was approaching forty from the far side of thirty five. He stood around five foot ten, still quite lean and fit, medium build, with a handsome friendly face atop of which sprouted a crop of curly black hair, shot with enough grey to bestow the look of more wisdom than he felt he deserved. He had been the priest at the seaside dormitory village of Llanfellydd since his ordination, and had seen the place grow considerably over the last fifteen or so years. It was really a small town now.
He was well known locally and by the wider church hierarchy as being good with young people. But he was not so popular with the older generations who actually kept up their churchgoing, as opposed to letting it fall by the wayside as the temptations of the wider world elbowed their way into young lives so often these days. He had set up a village Youth Club as one of his first acts on his arrival and since seen and helped many young people grow up and go off to make their way in the world. But he had not advanced in rank. His sermons were a little too near the mark for comfort. His humour a little too irreverent for the official cloak of priestliness. Neither he nor the church establishment were at all unhappy about this. He was a round peg in a round hole. And there had been no religious revolution in Llanfellydd.
At the moment he was thinking about one of the young folk who had gone on to greater things than hereabouts could offer. He had always been scrupulously well behaved towards his younger charges. To teens someone in their twenties was an out of date fossil, and to a twenty something a teen was a naïve child, so that was natural from the start. He was delighted when they succeeded in negotiating the early hurdles of life, and many had fond memories of the fun they had and the overblown dramas of growing up. But reunions were few and far between. And usually slightly stilted when they did occur. Being reminded by a priest of your gangling adolescent days was not necessarily a young adult's first choice.
All that had changed suddenly a few weeks ago. Judy had come back. He wasn't sure why, but he was dead sure about the effect she was having. On him.
Judy had been a livewire youngster. Attractive, bright, and a good leader. As well as a regular Club attendee she had made it to Queen's Guide, was school hockey captain, and got a scholarship to read science at Cambridge. Her boyfriend at the time had been Neil, a quiet Scot who had none of the usual male adolescent clumsiness, and had been something of a hit with the young ladies without even trying before Judy appeared to have nailed him. Or perhaps more accurately encouraged him to nail her. Martin was pretty sure she had lost her virginity to Neil in this very vestry over a decade ago. Neil had been an alter boy in early youth and the vestry was a masterful choice out of church hours in the days when the church was left unlocked. Nowadays not so easy. There had been whispers amongst the clubbies and Martin had found evidence. He suspected it had been left so he would know his charges were practicing safe sex.
Right now he was imagining Judy lying on her back on a heap of cassocks with her skirt round her waist, her knickers off, her knees pulled up and lying apart, and her cunt pinkly dripping with anticipation for Neil, who stood before her rolling the evidence onto his proud young erection.
He found he could readily construct what was probably an acutely accurate tableau because he could remember exactly what they both habitually wore and how they looked together. He could almost hear their voices as they lovingly encouraged each other before Neil knelt between Judy's legs prior to defloration. Martin was by now stroking his cock with vigour, nearing the point where he was in danger of leaving a fair amount of evidence himself, splattered all over the cassock heap. But he stopped dead. There were footsteps echoing through the church. Clackety metallic footsteps. And the days of metal heel repairs once used on men's shoes were long gone. These were the footsteps of a lady in heels.
"Shit!" It was Monday morning. No-one came to church on Monday morning.
He exited the vestry swiftly, in a much tidier state than momentarily before, glancing across towards the aisle as he shut the door. And there was Judy, looking stunning in a bright yellow two-piece and white blouse. Her dark hair was in an immaculate bob, and a warm smile spread across her face as she turned towards the noise and saw him approaching.
"I wasn't expecting anyone here at this time of day. I was surprised to find the place open," she said.
"Likewise. And I opened up. So, of course, I wasn't expecting anyone either. What's up?"
"Lost an earring. I think it might have come off at yesterday's service. Diamond." She flicked her bob and a diamond flashed below her left ear. "I was just about to look under the pews near where I sat."
He remembered where she had been sitting. He had noticed her each Sunday since her recent return, and her presence had affected him to the point where he had to work hard to keep on message during the sermon. She always dressed smartly, immaculately in fact, and ever so slightly provocatively. Maybe he was imagining things that weren't, but she seemed to hitch up her skirt just a little too far to kneel, and not quite get it back into position after the prayer. There were occasional flashes of stocking top and more. Just for a moment. But he'd found standing in the pulpit with an erection while doing the Lord's work a completely new experience. He had always been in control of that sort of thing, he thought. But now he wasn't. It was a little unnerving.
"You're not really dressed for poking around under pews," he observed.
"I wasn't expecting anyone to be here. Suddenly there's a requirement to be ladylike for which I'd not planned, if you get my meaning."
He got it all right. He tried to banish the immediate thoughts of her with her skirt hitched right up, and her knickers tightly stretched across her glorious buttocks, as she rolled around on the church floor peering under the furniture. His prior erection was fighting its way back. This was not going well.
"Perhaps I could help do the peering while you issued instructions on where to peer," he offered. He knew just where he would like to peer, but the furniture would have to do for the moment.
"Deal."
He realised as he walked towards her that the around ten year age difference which would have once been an insurmountable gulf did not seem to matter now. She would be heading for thirty now. They were both adults. What did matter was whatever baggage they'd each accumulated in the interim. His erection subsided as his concentration switched to managing the situation. The direct approach, he thought.
"Are you still Judy Skinner, or did Neil or some other beau persuade you to go for the name change?"
She laughed. "I'm still Judy Skinner. Footloose and fancy free. I'm a dedicated career girl I'm afraid and I think a lot of men find me a bit daunting. And work gives me little time for the few who've made an effort. Neil was lovely, but that was then, and we both went off to colleges and did our thing. I haven't heard from him in several years. What about you? Hasn't one of the Llanfellydd cougar pack managed to get her claws into you?"
Martin smiled. "I must confess I've taken the occasional clawing, and very enjoyable it may have been. But I've been quite protective of my freedom, although I've now got to the age where keeping up the wall shield requires a lot of effort, and sometimes a chap can't be arsed."
"Watch your back then. They were a dangerous lot. I think I was in this row." She waved an arm.
