I never saw Andrea after that night. I've felt bad about that right up to this very day. I really enjoyed our friendship and I miss her. I have no idea where she is presently or what's she's doing.
Not long after our Christmas vacation was over, something interesting occurred. Have I mentioned that my parents are very religious? In fact, my mother is so religious she has a cross as a screensaver. Man, that's putting your religion where you want it – to protect your computer. Mwahaha! The upshot of all this religious preoccupation is that I absolutely had to attend church every week or I would never hear the end of it for the entire following week. I also sang in the church choir.
I had just been accepted into the Senior Choir. In our church we had the Cherub Choir, which was for small children and the Junior Choir which was for older children, and the Senior Choir, which was for everybody else. I enjoyed singing in the choir. I have a good voice, so singing was easy for me and I enjoyed sitting up behind the minister on Sunday morning and looking out at the congregation. When the sermon would become boring, (which it always did) I could look out at everyone and amuse myself – hehe, or amuse them. Because I'm short and also sang soprano, I would always be seated in the front row of the choir.
But best of all, I 'loved' our choir robes. They were deep burgundy and looked really cool, but the best part was what you could wear under them – which in my case was absolutely nothing!
Everyone else just slipped their robe on over their outer apparel, but I always disappeared into the ladies room and, after stripping down to just my shoes, I would put on the robe. I would then stash my outfit in one of the Sunday school rooms. And no one would be wiser, or so I thought, but we'll get to that part of the story later.
Some Sundays when I was bored, I would pick out a good looking guy in the congregation, establish eye contact with him and, then slip my right hand under my robe surreptitiously, and masturbate myself 'til climax. Man, that was hot too! Somehow it always felt better doing it there than anywhere else. And I wouldn't have anything to wipe myself with afterwards, so I would sit there all sticky for the rest of the hour and then still be sticky when I talked to people in the choir and the congregation that would come up following the service. I loved it! It just seemed so nasty and secret.
Another thing I used to do was during the prayers. Now I don't know how much church you've ever attended, but at several points in our services the minister would lead us in prayer. Everyone, quite naturally, was supposed to have their heads bowed and their eyes closed during this time. Well, of course not everybody would cooperate in this endeavor – I suppose for a variety of different reasons, and there would be people who were looking around at everybody.
It didn't happen very often, but once in a great while there would only be one other person besides myself looking around and, if the person was an attractive male, then I would do 'my thing.' We usually stood during these prayers, so I would make sure he was looking directly at me and then I would very slowly lift up the hem of my choir gown all the way up until it rested under my chin. Man, you should have seen the looks on their faces! It was awesome!
And invariably they would look around to see if anyone else was watching and when they would look back, I would have already lowered my robe and I would have my head bowed in prayer as though nothing had happened at all. I know this blew their minds – haha! Now they weren't certain if they really had seen that or just hallucinated it. They would always try to talk to me after the service, but I always managed to avoid them.
Now this went on for awhile and then catastrophe struck. It started innocently enough. The minister had us stand and bow our heads for the end of the sermon prayer. I raised my head and looked around and observed a young man staring right at me and he was way cute too! He was about five foot, eight inches, which is a good height for me. The young man appeared to be in his late teens and he was absolutely gorgeous!
In fact, as soon as I saw him, I was thinking in terms of allowing him to talk to me after the service and I had never done that before. So looking right at him, I raised my choir robe and kept it up for over a minute and I don't know if you're really aware how a long a minute is, but it can seem really long, depending on the circumstances. Realizing the minister was reaching a conclusion, I quickly lowered my robe and winked at him.
He was grinning broadly at me. I don't know what it was, but something made me turn my head to the left and I was looking directly at Mrs. Hatfield, who was glaring at me with all the hatred in her soul, which was plenty! I almost fainted dead away, as my blood ran cold. There was no way this old harridan wasn't going to tell.
Now as soon as the service was over, the minister walked down the main aisle and waited at the back doors to shake everybody's hand and talk to them briefly. Of course that old bitch was headed right on a bee line towards him and she kept rounding around and glaring right at me, as if to ascertain that I was still present.
I wanted to get out of there pretty badly, let me tell you, but I was blocked in from all the people who had gathered around to talk to the choir. These were usually friends and family members of the choir members. I also observed that boy coming up to me too, but I didn't have time right then to worry about him. I just wanted to get the hell out of there! But what was I supposed to do? Walk on people?
Anyway I finally managed to get free by practically crawling on the floor, but I got out and I immediately headed back to get my clothes. That was my big mistake – well, that among many. I should have just left.
I had just stepped inside the Sunday school room, where I had stashed my clothes. Then I made my second mistake, I didn't lock the door immediately behind me. I didn't think I needed to, because I knew it was going to take the minister a few more minutes to shake everybody in the congregation by their hand.
Unfortunately I had forgotten about the assistant minister! Our church always had an assistant minister. He would be a young man directly out of seminary, who wasn't quite ready for his own charge yet. Usually the major problem would be that he was too young. It's a drag, but a lot of churches just didn't trust a minister who was too young. I think maybe they don't trust someone, who hasn't lived long enough to have been tempted by a lot of sin.
Anyway I had forgotten about Thad - Thad Jenkins. He was our assistant minister and apparently the minister had pushed Mrs. Hatfield off on him. Not that I blame him – she was one ugly old bitch alright. I'd only been in the classroom enough time to walk across the room where I had my outfit hidden, when the door opened and in walked Mrs. Hatfield with the assistant minister.
Despite my out and out shock, I knew what to do. I put my most innocent look on my features and inquired, "Why, Minister Jenkins. How are you this morning?" I'll tell you, I was so cool, butter wouldn't have melted in my mouth.
Before he could answer, Mrs. Hatfield pointed her arm at me and spoke in an incredibly dramatic voice, milking her one big moment in the sun, "There's the little strumpet, herself. She's the harlot, who exposed herself to that decent young man during the service."
'Oh for God's sake,' I thought to myself. 'She's probably going to swoon in a minute.' And then I realized that sounded like a good idea, so I acted like I fainted dead away. It's not hard to do, but you have to remember to allow your legs to just carry you to the floor rather than throwing yourself down. And you have to be able to risk it, you can't attempt to catch yourself in any manner.
The next thing I 'knew' (hehe) assistant minister Jenkins was leaning over me patting my hand. "Are you okay, Sara?" he asked, sounding gravely concerned.
"She's okay, that harlot is just faking something," the old harridan explained.
The young minister whirled around and instructed in a firm voice, "Mrs. Hatfield, please!"
"In fact," he continued speaking, while gently pushing the older woman out of the door of the classroom and into the hallway. "Thank you for all your help, but I need to speak with Sara alone."
As Mr. Jenkins was shutting the door in her face, I could hear the old bitch exclaim, "Don't forget to have her take off her robe! Make her show you what's under her choir robe."
"Alright, I will," he placated. Shutting the door and locking it, he turned to me with a smile and expressed, "Geez!"
I had since regained my feet. I smiled back at him.
"I'm very sorry, Sara. I don't know what's come over her," expressed the young minister.
"Maybe the devil made her do it, Mr. Jenkins," I quipped.
"Haha!" he laughed. "But please call me Thad. You're only a few years younger than me and when you call me that, I think my father is in the room."
Now it was my turn to giggle. "Shall we go?" Thad inquired.
I forgot to mention that Thad was just cute as a little 'ol bug, didn't I? Well, he was. He was about five foot, six inches tall. Personally I don't think he had gotten his full growth yet, but he definitely had in certain areas, if you catch my drift. I think his being so short was another thing that was holding him back from acquiring his own church. It just made him appear so young.
He seemed to have a better than average physique beneath his black suit. He had sandy brown hair, blue eyes and a cleft chin. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had had dimples when he smiled.
As he began to unlock the door, I said, "Wait!"
Thad glanced at me with askance in those beautiful blue eyes. "What is it, Sara?"
