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JANE AND THE BLAST FROM THE PAST
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Angela stood transfixed as the naked girl, followed closely by the very old woman, approached her. The subtle sway of the blonde's hips and the slight movement of those firm massive breasts, milk-white in their purity, caused a lump in her already too dry throat. Standing alongside the golden teen, the bent crone with her thousand wrinkles seemed grotesque by comparison.
The pair stopped in front of the podium. Angela stepped to the right, but did not, could not, move any further towards them. She wanted to ask them so many questions but discovered she could say nothing. The only sound she heard was the incredible pounding of her heart. It drowned out everything, including the soft droning of the sermon coming up from below. The young smiling blonde held up her wonderful tits in offering but still Angela, biting her lower lip in anguish, could not move.
It was all wrong, so terribly wrong, to feel this way about another woman, to feel this way about someone who was a girl, almost a child really. She wondered what had gotten into her. Why did she feel so compelled to stare at the unbleiveably-sized breasts, to want nothing more then to hold and caress them? Every fiber in her being cried out for them, a furious all-consuming need which swept through her like a forest fire.
In the midst of all these overwhelming emotions, Angela suddenly felt very inadequate. She had always been aware of her own exotic good looks, and worked hard to maintain them. She had even once considered a modeling career. But this blonde made her feel incredibly lacking and plain. It was that magnificent chest! Angela's own 34Bs, which always seemed so disappointingly small at the best of times, even with the push-up bra she always wore, were now mere pancakes compared to the blonde's super-sized chest. For the first time that morning Angela was thankful she was still wearing her choir robe, to hide her shame from this beautiful girl and her strange companion.
The old woman went behind the girl and her thin black-clad right arm swiftly jerked. Angela heard the blonde gasp, the young girl's eyes widening in surprise. When the old woman moved away, the girl turned to watch the old woman move away with adoring eyes. It was then that the stunned Angela noticed the candle protruding from between the blonde's firm white ass cheeks.
"Oh my God," Angela whispered. That woman had just raped the girl's behind with a candle!
The all-consuming lust which she had been feeling for the beautiful blonde was now tingled with a tiny kernel of fear. Angela was more confused then ever. Her once disciplined body, steaming under her clothes, felt ready to explode and she had no idea why! What was it about this girl (this girl!) that consumed her so? And why would the old woman do something so terrible to her? Was the girl being punished for doing something silly like loosing her clothes? If not that, then what? Too many strong emotions were happening for Angela's wildly racing mind for her to deal rationally with any of them.
But in spite of everything she was feeling, Angela could not tear her eyes away from those magnificent breasts. She had never felt this way about another woman, especially such a young and naked one. Yet her eyes were locked on the superb sight in front of her. They held her in a strange grasp that she was powerless to break. She wanted to...to touch them in the worst way without having the slightest idea as to why.
The old woman quietly went behind the heavily breathing Angela, but the young woman did not notice. She could only continue to stare at the giant tits, drinking in the magnificent sight, burning the image of them onto her brain so that she would have it forever after.
Angela vaguely felt the old woman running her hands over the outside of her robes and tried to shake her off, but her attention was locked on the fabulous prize that was before her and nothing else mattered. She felt that she would soon collapse she was so nervous, but it was that beautiful blonde girl standing naked without shame before her that inspired her to find the strength she needed to stay erect and on her feet. Those innocent wide blue eyes and that trim athletic body with the breath-taking chest and cute trimmed golden muff, that was Angela's world now and it sustained her as nothing else ever had before.
"Do you want her?" a voice asked. It was said so softly that Angela was not sure at first if she had imagined it or not. The voice asked again, "Do you want her?" Without thinking her head moved briefly.
Suddenly she was pushed violently forward and her arms automatically came up to catch herself. Before she realized it her hands were full of the massive mammaries!
She could not believe it. They were exquisite! The pale satin skin with its delicate blue veins was heaven to touch. She couldn't have enough of it! Wonderful! She marveled at their surprising firmness and weight. And the long pink nipples! Oh my God! Those nipples! They must be inches long! And with areola the size of silver dollars! Exquisite! Heaven!
Jane kept her eyes locked on the director's as Angela played and played with the large breasts as a small child would do with a new toy. The smiling blonde held the director close with both hands around the woman's indented waist. A strange fire also burned in Jane. Her beautiful body was in control now, insatiable in its needs. In the tiny part of her remaining mind, Jane had never been happier.
In her playing, Angela began to feel strange exciting tingles coming from her own poor excuse for a chest. She thought it was just a reaction from all the excitement she was feeling and ignored them as long as she could, but the sensations were becoming quite distracting. Finally she cast a quick miserable glance down once again at her own terribly inadequate chest and was shocked to see a pair of gnarled withered claws holding her firmly by the breasts! The old woman was touching her, openly touching her chest! Angela could not believe it. No one ever touched her like that without her permission. No One! Her hands dropped to her sides in shock, her heated mind overpowered by this new development. She could not think of what to do next! With open mouth and wide eyes, Angela watched astounded as the heavily veined hands casually kneaded the firm small breasts in a strong yet surprisingly pleasurable grasp. Her nipples tingled and grew and Angela was sure the old woman was doing something to them, but in her confusion she could not tell what it was. Soon she was having trouble breathing from the exquisite sensations coming from her chest. What was that old woman doing to her?
Seeing how the choir director was momentarily distracted by Mrs. Murphy, Jane sank to her knees unnoticed and pressed her face directly into the cloth folds of the director's hidden steaming crotch, her hands firmly clutching the trembling buttocks of the director through the many layers of protective cloth. Jane could smell the heady aroma coming from within, and started to lick the part of the robe which covered the hidden treasure. In her madness she could only think: Hers! It was hers! All hers! And she wanted it! She wanted it all!
Meanwhile, in another part of the forest...
Demetria sat fuming. She was with the other choir members sitting at the back of the church. The old priest was droning though yet another of his rambling sermons, which made her angry enough, but it was the strange behavior of her friend Angela that really made her boil. The girl had been acting strangely all morning and Demetria was sure that something was wrong. Why, she didn't even want to have coffee with her after church, and they always did that.
If her friend was mad at her, the least she could do was to tell her (nicely) what was bothering her. Demetria tried to think of anything she might have done lately to offend her friend Angela but could not remember a thing she had done that was out of the ordinary. She knew that Angela was always a little jealous of her because she certainly did have a better, more voluptuous body, but was that her fault? Angela was certainly good-looking enough in her own, thin way and did manage to occasionally latch on to a guy (usually one of her discards), but Demetria knew that she was the girl the guys all wanted, they who watched her every move when ever she walked by them. Oh yes! She was the one!
She slowly looked around but Angela still had not joined them. Okay then. First chance she had, she was going back up to the loft and have it out with the bitch. This was silly! Why should Angela be mad at her?
The priest looked down at his notes for a moment before beginning the usual post-sermon announcements and Demetria quietly bolted from the pew and walked swiftly through the main doors leading to the vestibule. She would probably hear about this later, but the though of Angela being mad at her for no reason was too much for her to bare any longer. She had to find out what it was all about.
Angela jerked at the sudden sound of someone pounding at the locked door to the loft. "Oh No!" she gasped in horror. "It's the Priest!" She looked around frantically for somewhere to hide, or at least something to cover the naked girl kneeling in front of her. Nothing! There was nothing, except...!
"Oh God!" she choked in the realization of what she was about to do, but it was all she could do. She lifted the front of her robe, which now had a strange wet spot, with trembling hands and moved forward. "Please behave, okay?" she begged the beautiful nude girl as she reluctantly covered her with the robe.
She stiffened when she felt the strange old woman climb under the robe behind her. She did not like that at all. The girl, so beautiful and (Angela was sure) so pure, was one thing. But there was something very odd about that old lady. Instinctively, Angela did not trust her, especially being so close with her like this! She tried to move away from the old woman but in her haste she forgot about the lovely girl in front of her and almost fell over the poor thing. Thankfully, the girl helped to steady her, but now her hands were up around her thighs under Angela's skirt and Angela was certainly not going to stand for anything weird like that! Even from that young angel!
"Now wait a minute..." she said loudly, but her protest was cut short when the old lock, never properly fastened by Angela's trembling fingers, finally gave way under the fierce pounding. The door flew open and in burst her friend Demetria.
"Oh no! Demetria!" Angela said in despaire. How could she ever hope to explain all this? She watched in horror as the young woman stared at her. Not now! Of all the times for that crazy bitch to have one of her stupid tantrums! Oh well, what the hay. At least it wasn't the fucking Priest, thank God! Angela knew what she must do. She had to quickly get rid of Demetria, and then finally find out what was going on with this strange pair.
"What is going on here?" demanded a very angry Demetria, fuming in the doorway.
"Lower your voice, idiot!" fiercely whispered Angela as loud as she dared. "Now turn off the lights and lock the door!"
Demetria stared angrily at Angela a moment, then turned to do as her friend asked. She did not notice Angela stiffen as she felt hands pull her skirt down. Oh God! They were undressing her under her robe and there was nothing she could do about it!
Finished, the furious Demetria walked swiftly to her friend, only to stop dead when she realized with amazement that there was someone under her friend's robe! Even in the dim shadows of the darkened choir loft, she was sure she saw the image of hands traveling, doing something, under the fabric. Suddenly she realized what was happening, Angela was possessed!
"Oh My God!" Demetria gasped. Some weird ghost or spirit had gotten into her! "Don't worry, Angela," she whispered, "I'll get the Priest!"
"NO!" exclaimed Angela as her panties were being pulled off. She was naked below the waist now and fingers were sliding, kneading, probing all over her secret places. Other fingers were under her top, working on her bra. It was maddening! "No," she said softly. Tears formed in her eyes. She had never felt so helpless as her proud body was slowly stripped and violated. "No."
"Oh," whispered a frightened Demetria. "I don't know what you want me to do. What can I do? What can I do?"
"Make her come closer," Angela heard a harsh muffled voice whisper softly behind her. "Much closer."
"No," said Angela firmly. "I can't do that." She would not involve her friend in whatever was going on here. That she knew she could do.
"No what? What do you mean?" asked Demetria softly. Her friend was obviously in some kind of trouble. If only she would tell her what it was.
"OH!" Angela gasped in shock as someone gave her erect nipples a strong pull and twist under her now loosened bra.
The harsh quiet voice came again to Angela. "Closer, I said. Bring her closer. I want her to be right in front of you."
"Uuhhh," groaned Angela as the tormenting of her nipples continued. Something entered her steaming vagina and her knees almost collapsed. "Not fair," she whispered.
"Closer, I said, or you'll lose them."
"Yes," Angela whispered as the unwanted intruder went deep into her while her nipples were fiercely squeezed. "Oh yes."
"Now," commanded the relentless voice.
"D-Demetria, please c-come here," whispered a worried Angela as her arms were pulled inside the robe. "I need to t-tell you something." They weren't playing fair at all! She tried to quietly resist what was happening, but her arms were released from her sides only after the last of her protection had been removed and she was naked under the robe, naked and completely at the mercy of the beautiful blonde and her strange old companion.
Still, perhaps she was wrong to be so worried. How bad could it be? She might be naked under her robe, but she was still in a crowded church after all! Maybe this was their idea of "pantsing", playing a joke on someone by removing their clothes in public, and all the touching up to now had just been accidental.
Yes, that was it, she thought happily. This was all just a strange joke and the two would soon put her clothes back on again for her.
As Demetria warily came towards her, Angela almost collapsed when she felt a blast of cool air being played over her over-heated crotch. Oh God! Someone was blowing directly onto her crotch and it was driving her CRAZY!
Demetria could not believe what was happening to poor Angela. The girl was obviously in some kind of distress, yet she refused to say what. When she saw Angela turn pale and almost faint, Demetria rushed to her friend's aid, even as she noticed a strange tiny half-smile on Angela's lips.
The young woman stopped in front of her friend and held her, her hands on Angela's upper arms, now oddly inside the robe.
"Angela!" pleaded Demetria softly. "Angela, please tell me. Tell me what is happening! Tell me how I can help you! Angela! Angela? Can you hear me?"
Angela could only stare mournfully at her friend. Tears flowed down her face as she helplessly felt a terrible pressure growing within her. She tried to think of something, anything else then the hot thoughts flooding her mind, but the unwanted touching of her defenseless body continued. Unseen hands on her secret flesh were driving her mad and she could not do a thing about it. She tried to fight those strange sensations, sensation much more appropriate to a bedroom then the sanctity of a church, but knew it was hopeless. Before she was alone with them she had already been strangely moist, strangely ready for whatever was to come. If only she hadn't been watching the sweet naked blonde with the breathtaking chest all morning. Those tits...those magnificent tits, how exquisite they were. Angela's overheated mind reeled as she remembered the satiny feel, the wonderful firmness of the breasts which still overwhelmed her so.
It was too much! "AAHH!" Angela gasped in joy and shame as she came! Fingers were thrust deep into her hungry spasming cunt and she came! Her ass cheeks were parted and something thrust itself firmly into her anus and she came! Her mind opened to everything she had been fighting and she came! Came...and came...and came!
"What the...?" Demetria sputtered as she stared at her seemingly insane friend. The flushed face with it's odd look, the rhythmic jerking of the body under the bulging robe, what terrible thing could be happening to the poor girl? Yet watching Angela was making her feel flushed. Her heart raced and she had no idea why.
When a contented Mrs. Murphy realized that they had finally driven the choir director over the edge for the first time, she poked her head between the director's trembling thighs and whispered to young Jane, "There is a young woman standing right in front of us. She is yours. Strip her and love her!"
"Oh goody!" madly giggled a drooling Jane. She pulled her slim hands away from the wildly pulsating cunt and left the steamy confines of the robe.
In Demetria's confusion she sensed a strange movement below her and looked down in time to notice a young naked blonde girl with the biggest tits she had ever seen dive under the front of her robe!
"Hey!" Demetria yelled. Instinctively she tried to back away, but something wrapped around her legs and, loosing her balance, she fell heavily lengthwise across the seat of the first pew.
"Ooof!" she said as the air was forced from her lungs from the fall. Gasping, she could only lay there fighting for breath as she felt something very weird going on under her skirt, like someone was fooling around with her underwear. How ridiculous! That girl would not dare to try anything like that with her, especially when they were here in a church of all places. She would do something about it just as soon as she could start breathing again.
Mrs. Murphy waited for Jane to fully occupy the new girl. Kneeling under the robe, she inhaled the heady aroma of sweat and fresh girl cum. It was glorious. When the choir director doubled over, desperately clutching her crotch in a frantic effort to stop the endless chain of mind boggling climaxes now ripping through her, Mrs. Murphy stood and pulled the robe up with her. She pushed the robe over the young woman's head, where it caught a moment before falling to the floor. The naked young woman was ready now.
She could not remember feeling this well since the time when she was toying with the innocent Greek girl that wonderful night on the plane. "Thank you, God," the old woman whispered reverently. "Thank you very much. You have made an old woman very happy, very happy indeed."
Demetria's eyes opened wide when she saw a very naked Angela, bent over double with her hands between her legs, being led by a very old lady to her pew!
Before being able to do anything about it, her thoughts shattered when she felt something hot and wet glide across her naked vagina! "AAAAHHHHH!" she cried in alarm and frantically tried to back away and protect her sex, but her damn robe was not allowing her any movement at all! This was terrible! That girl! That girl had managed to take her panties off and was now licking her! LICKING HER!!
She tried beating the big lump between her wide-spread thighs with her fists but her only result was a muffled giggle. Soon the tongue was thrusting deep within her surprisingly wet sex and Demetria felt herself losing control. "No!" she said loudly, "Stop doing that!" But the girl ignored her.
In the middle of her fear, Demetria was surprised at how good it felt, at how her unknown assailant knew exactly how to get to her. She had always been difficult to please, her many dates had always ended less then satisfactory, and she had always secretly wondered if it was her fault, if there was something missing in her make up which prevented her from achieving any sort of the satisfaction her so-called friends were always so quick to acknowledge about having. Yet this girl, a mere child from the quick glimpse she had had of her, was driving her out of her mind! Demetria froze at the realization. This girl! It was a girl! A girl was touching her sex, pleasing her as she had never been pleased before. What was wrong with her? How could she be enjoying even a little of this monstrous outrage of her perfect body? She was no lesbian! She didn't even like them!
Yet while as she fought the insidious assault, she could not deny the outrageous truth. It was her most secret fantasy come to life. For years she had dreamed of being sexually dominated by another woman. Oh God! How she dreamed! And now it was happening, it was happening! It was as if her soul had been revealed for all the world to see. But No! She was not like this! She wasn't like this at all!
Demetria pushed and pummeled the shape hidden under the robe while her body madly writhed to escape the voracious mouth, but the teen between her legs allowed no escape. Jane, when she could think at all, knew that she was free for the first time in her young life, and it was a heady wine. She sucked, nibbled, and drank the defenseless grasping cunt without mercy. The wildly bucking hips and flexing thighs only encouraged her.
In Jane's demented state she only knew that she was free and now had to free others. Murphy, her Goddess, her reason for being, wanted her to!
Mrs. Murphy placed the dazed director, shuddering from the closing climaxes still roaring through her, over the back of the pew, so the woman's knees would rest on the seat while her body draped over the backrest, head and arms hanging freely down the other side, small breasts upside down and coyly swaying.
"What's your name, honey?"
"Uhhh...?"
"What's your name?"
"...uhhh...Angela..."
"Angela. My, that's such a pretty name. Mine is Mrs. Murphy."
"Uunnn. Wa...happ...?"
"Say it, say Mrs. Murphy."
"Ohhhh."
"Say it, precious. Say my name."
"Why...you...doing...this...to...?"
SMACK! SMACK!
"OWW!!!"
"There, one for each beautiful cheek. I believe in being fair. Now say it, my child, or you will make me spank that perfect ass of yours a great deal more."
"Uhh...nooo. M-Murphy...Mrs. Murphy."
"Good girl."
Mrs. Murphy reached over and casually worked the candle protruding obscenely from the groaning Angela's behind while she quietly watched the unequal battle between Jane and the other choir member come to its preordained conclusion. She knew that as soon as Angela regained her senses the delightful fight with her would resume, but until then she was content to continue her first (but not last) violation of the girl's nice tight virgin ass.
"A woman's work is never done," Murphy sang softly.
"NO!" Demetria screamed while her body said otherwise. Her struggles grew weaker as her strength was drained by the terrible, wonderful things happening between her wide-spread legs.
She was certainly not a weak person, the long hours spent at her health club had seen to that, but why was she such putty in the hands of this child? She lay quietly now, listening to the muffled obscene slurping sounds coming from under the robe, and her own quiet sobs of despair. The need for release was overwhelming and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Nothing! It felt so good, what that girl was doing to her! Why did it have to feel so good? It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all.
"UUGGG! NO!" Demetria gasped as her body stiffened. Oh God! It was happening! It was happening! No, not like this. Please God, anything but this. But it was true. She was cumming! Cumming! She was having an orgasm right in front of this girl!
A quaking Demetria burst into tears while Jane began to undress her new toy.
The church was quiet now, the congregation having long since departed. All the lights were off, as well as the air conditioning, leaving the loft in a stuffy duskiness. The only light was that which came streaming from the large stained-glass windows running down either side of the church.
But the church was not completely quiet. There was the rhythmic sound of a hand striking wet flesh. There was also a more muffled sound, a sound not unlike that made by two women grunting and groaning.
It was a sound that brought the purest joy to the heart of Mrs. Murphy as she gazed happily at her soon-to-be newest conquests.
The two naked young women, draped tummy down over the back of a pew, squirmed helplessly. Their once perfect hair hung damp and limp over their sweat and tear-stained faces. Sweat also poured down their smooth backs and sides, and hung in a tantalizing fashion from their very extended nipples. Mrs. Murphy found a digital camera in the possessions of one of the girls, and, after quickly mastering its workings, amused herself by taking numerous photos of the scene. She knew sure the girls would want keepsakes of this wonderful time. It happened every time she took pictures. The girls always begged her for them afterwards, when they were aware again. It was so touching!
Mrs. Murphy wasn't sure exactly what was making them wiggle and moan so. Was it Jane's enthusiastic spanking? Those defenseless bottoms, now a nice pink, quivered deliciously time and again at each blow of Jane's open hands. Jane had wanted to use one of the girls' belts which she found in the large pile of discarded clothing now located by the podium, the young dear, but Murphy had made her use her hands instead. Safer, especially with one so inexperienced in such things. Even so, because of Jane's considerable natural enthusiasm, those young women will not sit comfortably if at all for some time after this, she thought gleefully.
Sometimes Jane became a little too carried away. She was young after all. She would sneak a hand between her own thighs, until Murphy told her firmly, "That's mine now, honey. You can't do that any more." And Jane never did it again. Such a good girl!
The wiggling of the two continued to intrigue Murphy no end. How exquisite! She supposed they could also be wiggling because of those wonderful candles which now protruded from between their quivering buttocks and jerking thighs. After draping the dazed pair over the back of the pew, it was only natural that she continue to show them just what pleasures a woman was truly capable of receiving. One candle for each delightful hole. Darling Angela had pulled hers out once and had to be taught a nice lesson. Now the girls, for all their complaining, did not try to touch them at all.
After they recover, she was sure that they would thank her for teaching them such a valuable lesson about themselves, and womankind in general. For the moment though, she was willing to endure their pitiful protests and muffled moans of ecstasy they made around the candles she had given them to suck on, as their confused brains were expertly buffeted between pain and pleasure until they could no longer tell the one from the other, until all became pleasure and they were lost in it forever.
As Murphy watched approvingly, the dark one stiffened and frantically began twisting and pumping her hips back against Jane. Ah, thought Mrs. Murphy, one down. Quickly young Jane became totally involved with the bucking girl, thrusting both candles in and out in time with the other girl's increasingly frantic thrusts.
Which left the choir director hanging limply all alone. Soon Mrs. Murphy notice that the poor girl was weakly trying to raise herself off of the pew.
"Oh, my," said Murphy. "We can't have that."
She walked behind the girl and shoved the lower candle, heavily coated in girl cum, into the tight passage another three inches. The choir director stiffened and collapsed, moaning quietly.
"That's right, honey," Murphy said lovingly. "It's just you and me now."
The wrinkled old face remained impassive as Murphy continued to candle-fuck the naked choir director. She worked both candles carefully, moving them back and forth, tilting and twisting, never in haste, confident she would soon prevail in the end over this spirited young woman. Judging from the sounds she was making, it was only a question of minutes now.
Angela again tried to lift herself on shaking arms from the pew, but this time Murphy was ready for her. Rapidly pistoning the cunt-candle into the very squishy vagina with her left hand, she used her right to reach between those wonderful thighs and began to gently but expertly tease the girl's magic spot. The clit responded readily and very soon so did the girl!
Angela shuddered helplessly under the massive series of climaxes which again roared through her. Under the terrible assault, something in her battered mind finally snapped. Her grunts and moans were no longer about wanting less, but more. She wanted more!
Murphy smiled happily as the sweating choir director began bucking wildly against her hands. "That's my baby, that's my good girl," she cooed into Angela's left ear. "Cum for me, my precious one. Cum for me."
Flooded with orgasms, Angela thrashed and bucked happily over the pew back until her well-toned body could take it no longer and she finally collapsed. The other girl had already fainted, while an exhausted Jane had curled up in a tight ball on the pew seat and was also fast asleep, sucking contentedly on her left thumb.
The poor dears, thought Murphy. Well, it had been a busy morning for them, hadn't it? They've earned their few moments rest. She pulled the golden Jane to the far end of the pew, then went back and lay out the other two girls on their backs along the long pew's seat, forcing the penetrating candles even deeper into their defenseless bodies. It was wonderful!
Contentedly she watched them. At this point in her life she had wondered if God had truly finished with her, and would she have any more surprises to look forward to, and now here were three of them! Thank you, God, thank you very much indeed, she thought once again. She would take all of the candles and place them in the holders by the alter. The fact that the candles were heavily coated with all kinds of exciting fluids even made her plan even more appropriate. Let everyone smell those wonderful scents and see what they can make of them.
She knew that all three girls were finally ready. They had been stripped of all pretense, of all the carefully cultivated layers of culture and civilization they had been wrapped in, smothered in, stripped bare of it all just as surely as they had been stripped of their clothing. They were natural now, free, and she envied them their purity.
They were hers now, of course. She could do whatever she wanted with any or all of them. Anything at all. A great responsibility, to be sure, but one she was quite capable of handling.
Ever the optimist, nothing had held her back. War, fire, flood, shipwreck, the Depression, making movies, prospecting for gold, the list of her life's events seemed endless. Yet, through it all she once never gave up, never once gave in to fear or despair. And here was the result, a new beginning at the very time she was sure was the end.
Mrs. Murphy took a deep breath. It was time to begin.
Jane stood in the early afternoon sun in front of the church's main entrance. When she finally woke up, she was alone. She thought a moment, then remembered hearing something about how Mrs. Murphy was taking the other girls with her for some special instruction. Except for her, the church was deserted. She had gotten dressed in the few clothes she had left, her ruined top, skirt and pumps, and slowly made her way down the choir loft stairs and out the front door.
A well-dressed Greek girl about Jane's age came rushing up to her.
"Jane! There you are! I've been looking all over for you. What on Earth are you doing here?"
Jane looked at the girl dully. It took her shattered mind a moment to place the familiar-looking face. It was the Sandra Valentasis, the girl she was to meet here. "Oh. Hi, Sandy. You said...you said to meet you...meet you here...at your church for a visit, but you never...showed."
"You idiot! I go to the Greek church a block down the street. I've been waiting for you since 9 o'clock. You're at the wrong church!"
"Wrong church?"
"My God, I hope you didn't go in there like that. Jane! You've not even wearing a bra! And you look like you've just been fucked by the school band. How could you? These are a very proud people and they are not going to like it one bit with you bouncing your big tits around their church looking like some kind of slut, even if you only think it's the current fashion. Wake up, will you?"
Jane stiffened, her thighs clamped together. As soon as Sandy had called her a slut she had wanted to cum in the worst way. "What's the matter with me?" she wondered. Sandy was looking at her with that direct gaze of hers and Jane fumbled for something to say, something to save her shattered dignity and self-respect.
"But I...I..." It wasn't any use. It was true after all. Mrs. Murphy was right. She was a perfect little slut after all. "I'm sorry," Jane cried and clutched her friend tightly against her. "I'm such a slut. I'm so...so sorry."
"Oh my gosh. It's...It's okay. Really! But look, Jane, if you do this again next Sunday, I'm not going to invite you any more!"
"(sniff) O...okay."
"Look, the family's waiting. I'd invite you to lunch but..."
"I understand."
"Are you all right?"
"F-fine."
"Great. We'll get together next week sometime. Bye!"
"Bye."
Jane watched her friend hop into the waiting family sedan and watched it drive away.
But what was she to do now? Mrs. Murphy had given her explicit instructions about their next meeting, where to go, what to wear, everything. The problem was the old woman had written them in shorthand all over Jane's behind, and on the backs of her upper thighs. Mrs. Murphy told her she had to locate a woman Jane did not know, who understood shorthand, and read the instructions for her.
Jane could not believe it. She had to expose herself to a total stranger! Perhaps more then one. Yet she couldn't stop tingling at the thought of being with the sexy old woman again. Mrs. Murphy was her life now, her reason for being. Without the old woman, Jane knew her life was empty and meaningless.
Jane couldn't wait.
End 2 of 2
End of Story