Jane and the Blast from the Past

Jane and the Blast from the Past 1/2 (F/F, Reluc) by LCDRJMC and Jenntarp

Standard Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction (honest!). It is intended for Adults Only, so if you're not--then go away. It is not intended for sale, but if you'd like to pass it around, feel free. Just keep the header as is and all will be well. Enjoy! lcdrjmc@aol.com

JANE AND THE BLAST FROM THE PAST

Jane Tarp was a natural innocent. She believed in puppies, kittens and flowers. Pink was her favorite color. Stuffed animals (all named) covered her bed in herds.

She went to church every Sunday, even during the summer. She did not understand all that well what they were talking about, but she knew it was good for her she went. Besides, she liked dressing up and looking pretty.

She always did what was good for her. She watched her diet and exercised regularly. She did not smoke, drink, or use drugs of any kind. She always followed the advice of anyone who said to do something that was suppose to be good for her, because she knew that everyone, like herself, only had other people's best interests at heart.

Her strict upbringing instilled in her the need to always obey people in authority, because, of course, they would always know what was best for her.

She was pure at heart. She never said a bad word about anything or anyone, and always looked for the positive in any situation. She never swore and never lied.

She was totally unaware of her own beauty, and the effect it had on people, especially certain women. The perky 19-year old with her heavy blonde main of shoulder length hair, wide blue eyes and cute button nose, was a vision with her creamy if usually tanned complextion. From the neck down, she was devastating, her slender 5' frame resting on well-formed legs, a pert behind, and capped by enormous still-firm high-set breasts.

She only went out with boys her parents approved of. The trouble was, that after her parents required pre-date interrogation (which could last hours), the few boys who did meet their impossibly high standards were long gone and never to return. Even the off chance of getting their sweaty hands on the beautiful Jane's supernatural-sized breasts was not enough to induce them to return. Jane did not date.

Her parents did approve of her going out with other girls, provided they came from acceptable families. They always told her to prefer the company of women whenever possible, because they knew only then that their nubile and slightly naive daughter would be completely safe.

With her natural sunny disposition and outgoing nature, Jane believed she was a natural conduit for good will, and made a point of spreading cheer and happiness where ever she went. She would have made Pollyanna seem like a depressive.

She considered herself a good girl, and that was enough for her.

She went with the latest fashions, even if they were a bit too revealing at times, because she felt that if someone went to all the trouble of designing something, the least she could do was wear it.

She truly felt that everyone was just like her, a pure individual who only wished the best for everyone around her.

Her friends (who were not above taking advantage of her from time to time) thought her crazy and ridiculously naive, and could not believe that her parents would let her out of the house without a keeper.

That was Jane.

The interior of the old church glowed in multi-colored splendor as the morning sun blazed its way through the vast stained-glass windows, splashing over tall brass candle holders and old dark icons wrapped in heavy gilded frames, their unsmiling images gazing upon the well-dressed congregation in disapproval. The atmosphere was heavy with the smell of incense and burning candles. A man in black with a full beard and gold raiment was chanting at the alter. It was Sunday and the morning service had already begun.

The large church was three-quarters full, but in a far corner a tiny old woman stood alone. She was in her Sunday best, a conservative black dress that had seen better days, but was still serviceable for all of that. Bent by the burden of life into something resembling a human question mark, the small woman was astonishingly wrinkled, her long white hair tucked into a severe bun, the wrinkled skin of her grim face spotted by countless years spent in the sun. Yet, in spite of her appearance, her clear blue eyes, tucked deep on either side of a very large sharp nose, sparkled with keen intelligence and humor as they drank in the religious splendor surrounding her.

"Trust the damn Greeks to do it right," she thought. The old woman, although raised a strict Catholic, belonged to no church but, in the course of her gaudy life, had visited them all. Regardless of the religion, it made no difference to her, she had tasted of them all. Each had something to offer, each was unique unto itself, although in her advancing years she found herself longing more and more for the more traditional settings of her youth.

She wondered what more God had in store for her. She had been a dedicated sensualist who delighted in the lifetime pursuit of women, and in this endeavor she had been more often successful then not. Yet, after one magical airplane encounter with a very beautiful young girl named Athena Valentine, an experience she had savored every day since, she wondered what more there could be for her. After living a life of total debauchery and joyous decadence, to be rewarded like that was enough to make her start living in a church, instead of her usual fleeting monthly visits. But it was not the past which concerned her, but the future. Where could she go from there? What other women were still in store for her? Where there any innocents left in the world? It was only the knowledge that if she ever truly stopped looking she would just lay down and call it a day that kept her going in her delightfully evil ways.

That's what made these church visits so special. It was not only uplifting for her soul, but being on the constant lookout for fresh 'talent' did wonders for her morale. Since God had rewarded her once, perhaps She'll do it again. "Why not?" the old woman muttered. "I'm certainly worthy." But God must have had other ideas, because She had hardly rewarded her after that one glorious time with the delectable Athena, and the old woman was beginning to think that perhaps she had reached the end on the line after all.

It didn't matter really. She knew that she would face whatever was coming her way with the same unflinching courage with which she met everything else. After a very long and gaudy life, the old woman regretted nothing except the possibility that there just might be no more worlds for her to conquer.

The faint smell of sandalwood was in the air and the old woman was suddenly conscious of an exciting feminine presence on her left. Someone very special was now standing next to her. A young woman, a girl really, and from the way she carried herself the old woman knew the girl was a truly beautiful one. As the realization penetrated her consciousness, the aged crone immediately forgot the splendor of her surroundings. She quivered slightly, a predator smelling blood and preparing for the kill.

She though happily of her long list of seductions, of the countless unsuspecting girls and women she had gleefully taken over the years, at times in the most unlikely of places. But this one would be different. While her senses spun into high gear at the delicious prospect of yet another conquest, she guessed that it might perhaps be her final one, her last hurrah. One final innocent being shown what the wonder of being a woman actually meant. Of course, not all of them wanted to know, and some (actually most) were in fact quite against the idea, but she showed them whither they wanted to be shown or not. It was, after all, for their own good that she did this. How could their natural development be complete without their ever knowing their own true potential, even if it did involve stripping them completely and then abusing them without mercy for hours on end? A public service, if you will, that was what she provided.

Besides, it was the one thing in this world that she was truly good at and she did so love doing it.

Slightly flexing her hands in readiness, she knew her skills were as sharp as ever. She was ready, but one question remained, where? Take her away to somewhere private or...? The old crone secretly looked about her, and a sly smiled appeared on her weathered features. Well, why not here? A church seduction! How fitting! What better place to show God how very thankful she was at this wonderful opportunity then by taking the girl right here.

And what a girl! A young lovely in her late teens, her luscious athletic 5- foot body was poured into a navy-blue suit with a pleated skirt that covered a perky rump. The mid-thigh skirt showed off her sculptured legs which were glowing in their sheer nylons as they perched on tiny feet encased in stylish 4-inch pumps. The long blonde hair cascading back over her shoulders framed the tanned face of an angel, with wide blue eyes, a button nose, and very plush, kissable lips. But it was her chest which took the breath away. It was so large the poor girl had to arch her body backwards a bit to compensate for the weight, which only served to stick out those fantastic high-set breasts even further.

The old woman's heart skipped a beat at the thought of getting her hands on the massive mounds. "Mother of God," she whispered in awe. "Thank you, thank you."

She gathered herself and took a calming breath. She made herself seem frail, and began.

"Oh, miss?" she said softly. "Miss?"

"Yes?" the girl, smiling, responded equally softly.

"My name is Mrs. Murphy, and could I borrow you for a moment?"

The girl looked amused. How could one person borrow another? Still, this poor old person must need her help and she did so like helping others, especially those less fortunate then herself.

"My name's Jane Tarp, and of course you can borrow me."

"Good. Very good."

"It's nothing really." Murphy looked down and acted embarrassed. "I need some help standing...sometimes."

"Oh, please," gushed Jane, her heart breaking, "lean on me."

"Thank you."

Jane held out her right arm for the cute old lady to use as a support, but was surprised when a rather strong arm snaked around her waist, with the woman leaning rather heavily against her, the poor thing. Oh, well. If that's how the old lady wants it, who was she to say anything. It was painfully obvious that Mrs. Murphy, whom she could feel trembling against her, needed all the support she could get.

Mrs. Murphy murmured, "These services don't let you sit as often as they should."

"I'm sure no one would mind if you sat."

"I would mind."

Jane immediately realized her mistake. This was obviously a very proud woman and she had just insulted her. "Oh, of course. Look, I'm sorry if I said anything..."

"It's all right, honey. I don't mind. So, how old are you?"

Jane jumped as she felt the arm around her waist tremble wildly. The hand moved freely up her side, past her ribs and bra. The shaking stopped and the hand returned to her waist. Her left breast tingled oddly after that, but she couldn't tell from what.

"I'm...I'm 19."

"Are you here with anyone?"

"No, a friend invited me to come today, but she never showed."

"Perhaps you can cum without her."

"What?"

The arm was trembling again, but Jane did not jump near as much. She was getting use to it by now. Still, it was rather disconcerting to have a hand wandering so freely over her like that, even if it was over her suit. This time the hand traveled over her hip and down the outside of her left leg, almost to the short hem line. The trembling stopped, and the hand once again returned to its place at her waist.

"I'm glad you came without her. I could use your strength. I'm feeling rather weak today."

"Of course. Please, lean on me as much as you like."

"Thank you, Jane. You are very kind."

The arm trembled again and Jane proudly did not jump this time at all. It must be some kind of nervous condition, she believed. She hurt the old woman once already, and would hate to do so again by giving her any indication that something was wrong.

Jane was still priding herself on holding in any reaction when the hand moved slowly over her butt cheeks! She slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out in alarm as her face turned beet red from embarrassment. She didn't say anything as it slid its deliberate way over the rounded contours of her firm buttocks. She couldn't make any sort of sound! The congregation was conducting a moment of silence and the quiet was absolute. She waited as patiently as she could until the prayer was over, at which time the arm trembling stopped and the hand left her now tingling buttocks and returned to her waist.

Jane was so confused. The church service had resumed, and they were finally allowed to sit, although Mrs. Murphy strangely still kept her arm tightly around Jane's waist and remained pressed against her side. What was that old lady doing? She was sure there was a perfectly logical reason for what had been happening with the wandering hand. There must be! She had to find out about what was going on, but desperately wanted to do so without having to embarrass the proud woman once again.

A little breathlessly, she quietly asked "Is there a...a problem with...I mean, I'm sorry, but is there something wrong with your arm? It keeps...shaking."

Jane watched the old woman drop her head and cover her face with her free hand. Soon her thin shoulders were shaking slightly and Jane realized to her horror that the old woman was crying.

"Oh, my God. I'm so sorry. Please stop. Here, use my handkerchief."

"(sniff) (sniff) Thank you. I didn't mean to... It's just that you..." and the woman dropped her head and started shaking again.

"Oh no," Jane whispered desperately. "Please stop. Please. I'll never forgive myself if you don't stop."

Murphy stopped her silent laughter and raised her head, making sure that the silly blonde got a good look at the tear tracks running down her face before wiping them off with the sandalwood-scented lace hankie.

"It was an accident (quiet sob). Got it caught in a combine while picking pineapples in Utah back in '32. The Great Depression was a tough time. You had to take any work you could find. The local doctor did what he could, but the nerves never did work right after that." She turned to look directly at Jane. "I'm sorry if I've inconvenienced you with my mangled arm," Murphy said coldly and started to withdraw her left arm from Jane's waist.

Jane, her own eyes starting to water, immediately held the withdrawing arm and gently guided it back around her narrow waist. The poor thing! How could she be so thoughtless towards this tortured soul? "You keep it there as long as you like, Mrs. Murphy."

"You're sure about that?" sniffed Murphy. "No matter what?"

"Oh, yes. Please, I'm begging you. I understand now. Nothing will bother me any more. Please. Please, you can...." Jane smiled and it was such a wonderful smile that it seemed to Murphy as if another ray of sunshine had found its way into the church. It was glorious. "You can borrow me as long as you like."

She looked at the stunning blonde smiling hopefully at her, so good, so innocent. Murphy smiled slightly in return, but it was a horrible smile, cruel and selfish, full of evil intent. Taking this big-titted idiot will be a pleasure.

"Okay, dear. Whatever you say."

"Great," whispered Jane happily. "We're going to be fine friends."

The smiling Mrs. Murphy just nodded, her eyes glittering.

"Honey, could I...ask you for...something?" Murphy asked, acting very embarrassed.

"Of course. Anything!" Jane said quietly, if very enthusiastically. How could she deny this poor woman anything now?

"My I...uh...see your jacket? It's so beautiful. My eyes are not as good as they use to be, and I want to have a nice look at it."

"Please, take a nice long look," Jane gushed as she quickly stripped off her jacket and gave it to the old lady. "It is very pretty."

"No, honey. It's nice, but you're the one who's very pretty."

Jane blushed at the complement. She looked at Mrs. Murphy closely examining her jacket, then carefully lay it on the seat on her right, the side away from Jane.

Well, I don't really need it right now anyway. It is kind of warm in here.

Jane looked at the darling old woman and her heart overflowed with love and kindness toward her. What a fighter! After having endured all of that terrible pain and suffering, here she was still going strong. She felt the arm around her waist start to move and Jane carefully scooted forward a little so that the damaged arm would not be pinned behind her, giving Murphy plenty of room to completely unfasten the girl's skirt.

Jane still could not get over it. The poor thing! What she must have gone through. Pineapples in Utah! Who would have thought it? Must have been one of those New Deal experiments they told us about in history class.

The hand moved over the smooth back, carefully tracing every contour. Soon Jane began to really enjoy the touch. It was like being petted. The only jarring note was when the arm, and the hand now did it too, would go into a terrible spasm for a moment or two. Of course Jane did her best to ignore such things. No way was she going to have this poor woman feel pain again, especially not because of her.

The sometime-twitching hand moved back and forth over Jane's back, but especially seemed to enjoy going over her wide bra strap, but Jane soon forgot all about it. Mrs. Murphy was quietly telling her of her extraordinary life and the girl was fascinated. So fascinated in fact that she never noticed, after one especially violent hand twitch, that her bra was now opened in back.

Mrs. Murphy suddenly quieted and pulled out a low, velvet covered wooden stand from underneath the seat in front of them. After kneeling on it, she motioned for Jane to do the same. Jane looked around and saw that everyone was kneeling, everyone but her! She looked at the alter and was sure the priest was giving her a very dirty look, so she quickly knelt upon the stand. As she leaned forward she felt her breasts shift in her blouse. "OhmyGosh," she muttered as she realized to her horror that her bra had come undone!

"Mrs. Murphy!" she frantically hissed. "Please get up. I have to leave."

"You can't leave now. It would be terribly sacrilegious. What's the matter?"

Blushing, Jane reluctantly explained, "It's my...my bra. It came open and I really need to go to the ladies room and fix it."

"Oh, is that all? I can fix that in a jiffy. Now just kneel low and keep very still."

"Thanks!" sighed Jane in relief. The wonderful Mrs. Murphy will fix everything.

"Now let me get that front clasp for you," whispered the old crone gleefully as she reached for Jane's fabulous chest.

"Front clasp? Oh no, it's not fastened in front at all. It's really fastened in...!" gasped Jane before she remembered to keep quiet.

Just as Mrs. Murphy's hand reached the girls' blouse, it went into another of it's terrible dances. The out-of-control hand bounced between the massive breasts, and Jane soon felt the oddest sensations. It was so insane! Her very sensitive nipples were feeling as if they were being pulled and twisted, and were diamond hard as a result, while her poor breasts were being squeezed and even slapped! Hunched over on the kneeling bar, she prayed desperately that no one could tell what was happening to her poor chest. But the effects were driving her crazy, butterflies were growing in her tummy and she was feeling so strange in her cunny. She had to stop it all, somehow.

Finally she looked desperately at the old woman and begged, "Please." She saw Mrs. Murphy gallantly try to stop the offending hand by firmly grabbing the front of Jane's blouse and holding it in place with her right hand, but the shaking hand just pushed up her loosened bra until is was up over her massive tits and crumpled uselessly under her chin. Jane never noticed in her distress that the blouse had lost a few buttons in the process.

"Oh No!" a devastated Jane whispered, wanting to nurse her sore breasts but not daring to in public. "Now what am I going to do?" It was incredibly obvious that under her sheer expensive blouse her bra was off of her chest.

"You have to take if off, honey."

"What? Oh, but I can't!"

"They'll know you lost it for sure if you don't. Come on honey, you know how. Just pull your arms into your top and take your bra off."

"Oh, this is terrible."

"Stop making a scene. You want people to see you like this?"

"Oh no, not like this. Please! Anything but that."

"Then hurry. We're going to stand up again soon."

"Okay (sniff), okay. Just give me a minute."

"Here now," Murphy whispered as she pulled Jane's blouse completely out of her skirt. "Just drop it through your blouse and you'll be fine."

Jane stopped her efforts and turned a flushed face to the old woman. "Thank you," she whispered sincerely. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome. Now get busy," whispered Murphy and playfully swatted Jane on her delightful behind.

As Jane became completely absorbed in the taking off of her precious bra, Murphy reached under the girl's loosened skirt and began tugging on the waist of her pantyhose. She would have preferred the girl to be in a thong, those garments were made for seductions, but pantyhose it was and pantyhose it shall be (can't be lucky all the time). At lease it was the kind that came without the built-in absorption panel. Jane would never miss them, even though it would leave her delightfully naked under the short skirt. Besides, Murphy knew that pantyhose can certainly come in handy, although not in any way Jane would ever have imagined.

Murphy had worked the top waist of the pantyhose down past the girl's navel when the bra clattered to the floor.

"Good girl" Murphy muttered approvingly as she patted the teen on the back with her left hand while putting the large thin bra in her purse with her right. "Now, isn't that better?"

"Oh, yes. It looks much better thank you. But it feels very strange to be without...you know. And here of all places! Perhaps I had better go and..."

"Can't leave yet, we're standing up again."

"Oh. Darn. Okay." Jane rose slowly, careful not to cause any sort of naughty jiggle. This was a church after all. She was sure her nipples were poking out like bullets but there was nothing she could do about it right now. Jane wondered if they had some sort of intermission coming, so she could safely go and fix herself up.

While she was thinking how she could get dressed again, the teen heard a faint sliding sound, then a soft plop. She looked around, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary among the singing parishioners.

"Oh dear," whispered Mrs. Murphy.

"What's wrong?" asked a very concerned Jane. The woman sounded so tragic. What could be the matter?

"Honey," gasped Murphy. "It's your skirt."

Jane looked down and could only stare in disbelief at her fallen skirt.

"Just stand still. You are blocked by the pew. No one can tell anything as long as you don't move."

"Oh my God," gulped a horrified Jane.

"Be still I said. And for goodness sake stay quiet."

Jane nodded her head rapidly in assent, and waited in humiliating silence while the old woman fixed her skirt for her. OH MY GOD! This was terrible! What was wrong with her clothes today?

She felt Murphy clutch a withered hand to the back waistband of her pantyhose, probably as a handhold. It was only then that she noticed how her pantyhose top had strangely worked its way down her tummy and almost past her waist.

The left arm started to twitch again and Jane in horror felt the back of her pantyhose pulled to half-way down her buttocks! But with vast relief she saw how Mrs. Murphy quickly reacted and grabbed the front of her pantyhose, and pulled them up. A silent battle then began between the left and right hands, with the helpless Jane caught in the middle. As one pulled the hose down, the other hand pulled it up, Murphy making sure each time the warring hands 'accidentally' caused the elastic nylon to dig farther and farther into the poor unsuspecting girl's crotch and between her quivering ass cheeks, and then sawing the bunched material front and back. This was causing the innocent Jane to experience the most extraordinary of sensations. The bunched material soon became slick with girl-cum, which made them even more effective in driving the hapless Jane out of her 19-year-old mind! She soon became so affected she forgot her humiliation, her near nakedness, everything except the exquisite if inexplicable sensations coming from between her legs.

Taking care to keep her movements to a minimum, Murphy knew no one could tell that anything was happening under the teen's blouse, and unless someone walked down the aisle, no one could tell the girl had lost her skirt. Enjoying herself immensely, she took the opportunity during her fake battle to mercilessly tease the girl's clit and anus whenever she could, deliberately driving her closer and closer to the brink.

Almost sick with fear, Jane's dazed mind could not comprehend what was happening to her inexperienced body. She was in a church, yet wave after wave of wonderful, maddening, sensations kept shooting through her as if her crotch was now in control and not her brain. Her knuckles went white as her hands held desperately to the pew in front, but she could not stop the strange fire that was building within her, a bizarre pressure that was seeking a terrible release.

The battle between the left and right hands took its toll, but not just on Jane. The pantyhose began to shred under the strain. As the material became a series of very narrow strips, they were able to dig that much deeper into Jane's heating flesh.

Murphy was so happy she was almost singing. Jane's hips were now jerking in rhythm with the actions of the hands and Murphy knew the moppet was unconsciously trying to enhance the sensations, the little dear. The girl's wide blue eyes were glazed, all thoughts turned inward. The nostrils on her button nose were flared, her chest heaved, and a single line of sweat ran down the side of her beautiful flushed face.

It was time.

Murphy gave up all pretense. The teen was hers now, all hers. There was no need to pretend any longer.

She deliberately pulled the ruined pantyhose down past the girl's hips, thoughtfully planting a kiss on each of the girl's naked buttocks under the blouse as she did so. When the tattered nylon remains lay tangled at Jane's feet, she brought the skirt back in place, tucked in the blouse, then loosely fastened the skirt.

When the dazed girl was dressed, Murphy had her step out of her ruined underwear. She put that in her purse as well, content in the knowledge that she would be savoring the teen's sweet essence for years to come.

As Murphy sat beside the standing girl, a wonderful aroma came to her from under the short skirt. Murphy reached out, and holding on to Jane's right thigh, pulled the teen close to her. She then reached up with her perfectly good left arm, slid the hand between the smooth inner thighs, noting with approval the vaginal fluid dripping down them, and lightly fingered the teen's steaming cunt. Murphy heard a low moan, and thoughtfully plunged two fingers deep past the swollen labia and into the tight, wet cunt.

"Ohhh," Jane sighed as she automatically rose on her toes to escape the sudden impalement.

"Soon baby. Very soon now," whispered Murphy as she gently teased the girl's erect clit out of its protective hood.

"Ooohhhhh."

"Almost there, dear."

"Uuuhhhhh," grunted Jane as Murphy deliberately began to finger-fuck the helpless teenager as she continued to tease the defenseless clit. The cuntal walls hungrily clutched her busy fingers as Murphy expertly brought the girl to a white-hot intensity. Her hips were no longer just moving reluctantly, they were now trying to drive the unwanted intruders in as deep as possible.

The priest made a motion with his hands and everyone sat, everyone except Jane. Murphy smiled and pulled the confused blonde down to sit on the edge of the pew and spread her thighs, allowing her plenty of access to Jane's hot honey pot.

"Cum for me, honey."

"Wha'...?"

"Be a good girl and cum for me," Murphy whispered seductively into Jane's delicate ear as her hand began its final ravagement of the girl's golden pussy.

"Oooooohhhhhh nnnnnooooo," moaned Jane as the blood rushed to her cunt and she had a massive climax! The hot girl-cum gushed over Murphy's hand and she loved it. Jane leaned over and curled up on Murphy's lap as her overheated pussy began a series of devastating contractions which shook her entire body. Happily abusing the erect nipples, the old woman watched the golden skin blush prettily as the jerking girl silently came again and again.

When the spasms finally stopped, Murphy rolled Jane onto her back over her lap. She flicked up the front of the girl's skirt and enjoyed the sight of the teen's trim golden muff gleaming in the light of the stained glass windows. The thin slash of white flesh, obviously the limit of the girl's bikini bottoms, glowed palely alongside the surrounding deeply tanned skin. Murphy reached down and deliberately teased the helpless girl into another climax, just to let her know who was in charge now. When the second set of spasms stopped, she removed her hand from between the delectable thighs, flipped the skirt back down, and contentedly licked her fingers as Jane's wonderful body slowly calmed down. Her sharp eyes spotted an usher coming over and Murphy reluctantly stopped teasing those fantastic breasts.

"Can I be of any assistance, ma'am?"

"No thanks, sonny. I have everything I need right here. She's just not use to the incense, that's all. Happens all the time here."

"True, but please let me know if there is anything I can do."

"You bet."

The usher left and Murphy went back to teasing those fantastic breasts. After a moment's consideration, she flipped the front of the skirt up high over the girl's indented waist. She did not plan to do anything at the moment, she just liked sharing the view of an innocent's defenseless pussy, especially one as delectable as this.

"Ohhh," moaned Jane when she finally got her breath back. She was laying over Mrs. Murphy's lap and she had no idea how she had gotten there. She looked up into the sparkling blue eyes of the kindly old woman and tried to smile. "I think I had an accident."

"No doubt about it," agreed Murphy pleasantly.

"Oh. What...what are you doing?"

"Trying to get your nips to go down before you start a riot. This massage usually worked for me. A little Greek girl taught it to me on an airplane long ago."

"Oh my. You shouldn't...do that...not...here...uhhh...here...not...ooohhhhhh..."

Murphy watched happily as Jane raised her right knee and pressed the right thigh tightly against her left.

Murphy opened the girl's blouse enough so that she could continue her assault directly on the proud breast tips.

After one particularly nice dual nipple twist, Jane's hips rose high in the air with her thighs clenched tightly together. After a spectacular shudder, she then collapsed devastated back onto Mrs. Murphy's lap.

"That's odd," observed Mrs. Murphy. "I never saw that happen before."

"Oh God. I need to go home. I need to go home. I really don't feel well."

"But it's not over yet."

"What?"

"The service, it's not over. We still have to take communion."

"What! Oh no! I couldn't possibly." Jane tried to sit up but Mrs. Murphy easily held down the dazed teen. "Please, I must get my jacket and go home. Where is it anyway?"

"We need to pay our respects. Not polite to leave without paying our respects to the host, or hosts in this case."

"But I'm...I'm not dressed. I can't go up there, not like this. I'm practically...naked."

"You said I could use you for as long as I needed you. And I need you to go up there with me. Period."

"Oh! Yes, but...but...oh my...but that was...was..." The old woman was right, she had promised to do just that. But still...!

"Come on! We need to get moving otherwise we'll miss it. They're almost finished."

Murphy finally allowed her to sit up. The distraught teen wanted to reason with her friend but almost screamed instead at the sight of her poor exposed pussy. Murphy was quick to cover her mouth with her hand. Jane slammed down the front of her skirt, then realized that half of her blouse buttons were undone or missing while the amused Mrs. Murphy slid out from under her.

"Oh No!" she moaned as she frantically buttoned her open blouse s Mrs. Murphy pulled her into the isle and started to lead her the long walk towards the front of the church. Jane was halfway to the alter before she realized where the old lady was taking her. There were no other people standing, so all eyes were on them as they made their hasty way forward.

"Please, no. Please, please, no," the woozy Jane pleaded, but to no avail. Mrs. Murphy was leading her firmly by the hand, so she could not even prevent her large breasts from bouncing all over the inside her blouse because of Mrs. Murphy's rapid walk. She had never felt so humiliated.

They reached the front of the alter where the priest was waiting patiently with the chalice and brass spoon.

"What am I suppose to do?" Jane asked.

"Wait here. Watch me."

Mrs. Murphy stood before the bearded priest. Jane could see her talking swiftly, then the man turned to stare in disbelief at Jane! Oh no! What did she tell him? Bushing beet red, Jane turned to look at the parishioners and was shocked! A sea of eyes were all staring at her! Most of the looks were quite angry, while others seemed frankly admiring, and even a few which were envious, but it was too much for her shaky condition. Jane froze under the intense scrutiny.

"Pesst. Pesst!"

Jane broke from the stares and turned toward the sound. Oh no! It was Mrs. Murphy! She was finished! They were all waiting for her! The entire church! Waiting for her!

Without thinking, the terribly embarrassed Jane ran the short distance to the waiting priest who was already holding the spoon filled with the sacrament for her to take. She jerked to a stop close in front of him, but she misjudged the distance and her wildly bouncing right breast bumped the underside of the priest's right hand and knocked the spoon from the shocked man's hand. Red liquid lightly sprinkled across the white blouse covering Jane's heaving chest as the heavy spoon spun slowly up through the air, halted at the top of its arc a brief moment as it shined magically in a colored beam of sunlight, then fell with a muffled clang inside the chalice.

A gasp went through the church! Jane could hardly breath. She knew she had just done something very wrong, but she was not sure what it was. The priest glared at her, said a few choice words in Greek, reverently fished out the spoon, and, muttering softly, returned carrying his implements of communion to the alter.

"Bow," said Mrs. Murphy.

"What? What?"

"Bow to the priest. It's the only way to save the situation."

"What! Why? I didn't see anyone bowing."

"You're the guest here who just screwed up, that's why."

"Oh. This is awful."

"Bow."

"Look, I just want to leave and...Hey!" Mrs. Murphy was suddenly pushing her with surprising strength on the back of her neck and Jane had to either start bending or fall over.

"But I..." Jane started to protest as she resisted the pressure, but Mrs. Murphy cut her off with a low growled, "Bend over and BOW!" Afraid she was doing something even more wrong if she didn't, she did as she was told. But she was surprised at how far the old lady wanted her to bow. Over and over she went, the pressure behind her never stopping, until she was so low her head was far below the level of her skirt. Sneaking a look through her legs, Jane could not believe how intense everyone was staring at her. So many wide eyes and open mouths. She was bowing wasn't she? She was dressed enough, even if she did have a few accidents with her underwear. What more could they want?

By the time Mrs. Murphy stopped her pushing, Jane was bent so far over she had to support herself on the floor with her hands. For some reason the old woman still kept the puzzled Jane pinned in her embarrassing position. She could hear the crowd murmuring behind her, but she couldn't tell about what. It wasn't her fault, what ever it was! Not this time!

Jane did not know that her massive mammaries were clearly visible inside her partially buttoned blouse. Nor did she notice that her short skirt was pulled up so high that her swollen labia, shiny with her private juices, were protruding from between her tightly squeezed thighs. Jane's secrets were on display in front of the entire congregation!

Jane finally understood what all the fuss was about. It must be because she didn't "bow" in the first place. Of course! Mrs. Murphy tried to tell her but she didn't listen. Jane realized that if she hadn't been so resistant to following church procedure in the first place, then she wouldn't be receiving such nasty looks from the parishioners right now.

When Jane felt the pressure on her neck stop, she thankfully rose to her feet. Dizzy from being bent over for so long, she was grateful when Mrs. Murphy put her arm around her waist once again and led her down the center aisle to the back of the church.

She was so relieved to be on her feet once again and finally leaving that she didn't even realize that Murphy's arm around her waist was also holding her skirt high up against her back, clearly exposing the teen's perfect buttocks!

Jane was desperately trying to focus, but too much had happened to her and life remained a cloudy blur. "Thank God for Mrs. Murphy", she thought. Without the old woman's help, she would not know what to do. Even now the old lady was kindly guiding her down the aisle. What a treasure! Mrs. Murphy was helpfully gesturing which way they are to go, but kept inadvertently bumping the front of Jane's blouse, but Jane understood. People bumping her chest was something that happened all the time. It's so common that she even stopped protesting whenever it happened. Why bother? It certainly was never intentional. Who would do a thing like that on purpose?

The dazed Jane never realize that with each inadvertent "bump" on her huge tits, a button on her blouse came undone. She was so confused by the sensations of her recently unexpected climaxes, and from being held bent over for so long, that she could walk in whatever direction the wonderful Mrs. Murphy pointed and that was all. Her breasts certainly felt funny, but after Mrs. Murphy's toe-curing massage on her nipples and all the recent bumping, Jane knew her large breasts would be tingling madly for the rest of the day. All she could do now was to place her trust in the wonderful Mrs. Murphy to see her safely out of this mess she had gotten herself into. It was typical of the old woman's kind heart that she was now taking care of her, rather than the other way around.

Jane noticed how everyone's eyes were staring at her breasts, but it didn't matter. She knew that people stared (even when they were trying not to) at her special chest all the time, and had learned to ignore it, so Jane though nothing about it now, except to think that it was a little strange to have it happen so openly in a church of all places.

Mrs. Murphy, still clinging and clutching at Jane as they stumbled down the main aisle together, has discretely opened Jane's blouse and pulled sides completely apart, all the while maintaining her firm grip around the unsuspecting girl's waist to keep her skirt tightly pinned against her lower back.

Mrs. Murphy had gleefully put the unsuspecting blonde on public display once again!

An astonished usher opened the door for them and they entered the large empty vestibule.

Jane looked around in relief. They were alone! A few more steps and they would be out the door and this terrible nightmare would be over.

Mrs. Murphy said, "I need some candles. Be right back."

Standing alone, she missed the comforting presence of the old woman. But Jane was finally able to start getting a grip upon her surroundings. Thankfully, the world was coming into focus again! She sensed an odd feeling of chilliness on her chest and looked down to see that her stained blouse was open, her swollen breasts completely exposed, her nipples thrusting hungrily into the cool air. Tears of total humiliation formed in her eyes and quickly trickled down her face. How could she be so careless? What was happening to her?

Her silent tears soon turned to heart-breaking sobs as Jane's careful world crumbled about her in chaos and dismay. She fastened the few remaining buttons on her blouse with numb fingers.

"Come on my little cum-bunny," said Murphy happily as she led the devastated blonde by her left hand, a fistful of long candles in her right. "Let's get you someplace quiet so I can help you calm down a little."

"They saw...they saw," moaned Jane.

They went to the right where a spiral staircase ran down into the bowels of the church and up above the main floor. Jane was wondering which way they were going when a young alter boy, rushing up the stairs from below, carrying a brass chalice covered by a gold embroidered cloth, slammed directly into the startled Jane!

"OOFF!" gasped Jane as her wind was knocked from her. Caught by the massive tits, the boy lost his grip on the chalice, and the entire contents of the high brass cup spilled over the top of Jane's chest.

"OH NO!!" cried Jane in dismay as she looked down upon her red soaked blouse.

The boy took one long wide-eyed look at the girl's chest, the huge breasts clearly visible under the wet blouse, turned and fled back the way he had come.

"Thanks for nothing you little shit!" called Mrs. Murphy loudly after the fleeing alter boy.

"Whaaa!" wailed Jane over this latest disaster.

Taking her by the hand once again, Murphy led the soaked teen up the stairs. "Okay, honey. Let's go and get you cleaned off."

They followed the narrow winding set of stairs up and up until they reached the large deep balcony which hung over the back of the church. At the entrance, Murphy placed her right index finger across her lips in a gesture of silence, and the crying Jane nodded her assent. The last thing she wanted was to be noticed by anyone ever again.

It was the choir loft, and its loudly singing members was facing forward toward the alter. Only the choir director faced the rear, but, intent on her work, she only gave the two intruders a brief annoyed, then surprised look as they made their way across the back of the balcony.

Angela loved to sing, and was one of the few people in the choir who could actually read music, so it was the natural choice for the beautiful brunette to be offered the position of choir director when the old director had to suddenly leave town because of some ill-regularities with the collection plates.

She could tell something odd was going on down in the church, but was not in a position to understand what, and really did not have the time for it anyway. It was only when she saw the two strangers inter the back of her loft that she began to have an idea what night be happening downstairs. It was a very old woman, and she was leading by the hand a very pretty blonde with a soaked blouse. Even the brief glimpse she had of the girl told Angela that it was the biggest chest she had ever seen. It was absolutely breathtaking, although why she would feel that way about it she had no idea.

Normally Angela did not allow people up there during services. Shed would quickly chase them out, but this pair she left alone. The poor girl was obviously in some kind of trouble and it was apparent that she was in the good hands of her grandmother.

After services she resolved to find out what had happened, and if she could help them in any way.

Murphy settled Jane in the far corner of the back pew. When Jane felt her shoes being removed, Murphy told her that it was just so that she could find it easier to relax.

For Murphy, now came the fun part.

"Take your blouse off, honey."

"What?"

"Take your blouse off."

"Oh, no! I can't do that!"

"You are a total mess. I can't clean you up unless you take if off."

"Why can't we go someplace else, any place without people?"

"Because this is a church. There are no places in a church on Sunday without people. Now, take it off."

"But what...what about the ladies room? They have to have one somewhere."

"Do you really want to go back through all of those people looking like that, especially after what you did?"

"No! No! Anything but that!"

"Well, then?"

"Oh, this can't get any worse," Jane whispered sadly as she removed her damaged blouse.

Jane sat in the pew and covered her chest as best she could. This was awful! How could she be so clumsy as to spill all of that stuff on her new blouse? And now she has be topless, topless in a Church!

Murphy looked around and found a very dirty cleaning rag on the floor. She wrapped the blouse tightly in the rag, then threw the bundle into a far corner.

Having taken care of the blouse, Mrs. Murphy's mind raced with wonderfully deviant thoughts. Now for those succulent tits and that tight little pussy!

"That will soak out the wine," Murphy said. "Oh, dear, I hadn't realized..."

"What? What's wrong now?" demanded Jane as she looked around frantically.

"Your chest! It's covered!"

"Yes, that boy spilled this red juice all over me." Jane went to wipe off her upper chest while keeping herself covered, but she found her wrist in the iron grip of Mrs. Murphy.

"You will commit a grave sin if you wipe off that wine."

"Oh no! Really?"

"Yes, that is consecrated wine. Blessed by God. It is actually...blood."

"Oh No! Blood? I'm covered in blood?"

"Yes, holy blood, very sacred. Quickly, stand up, and put your hands on the pew in front of you."

"But they'll see...!"

"Quickly, or you'll be cursed forever!"

Jane slowly rose, a sacrificial lamb going to the alter, and placed her shaking hands on the back of the next pew. She looked at the backs of the choir members one last time, then shut her eyes tightly. She couldn't bear to see what happened next.

Murphy kneeled on the pew's seat and hefted the vast mounds of succulent flesh in her hands. She gently squeezed them a few times. Glorious!

"Hey." Jane wondered what Mrs. Murphy was doing to her chest.

"Now lean forward."

"Like this?"

'No, more. Much more. There, that's it."

"Oh, awful! Now...now what?"

"I will now remove all of the sacred blood from your body," intoned Murphy as she reluctantly released her firm grip on the massive mammaries. "I can not afford to miss a single drop, otherwise...!"

"My God! Please, please get all of it!"

"Anything you say, honey."

"Oh!" gasped Jane when she felt someone move her hair aside and then start to lick the left side of her neck.

"Don't say anything, or you will ruin the ceremony."

"Oh, sorry."

Those magnificent breasts were in front of her at last, an offering that Murphy planned to make the most of, whither Jane liked it or not.

Careful to first lap up every drop of wine on the girl's body, Murphy licked and sucked on Jane's smooth neck until the teen had become very flushed.

Jane felt totally humiliated but what could she do? She has "blood" on her and it must all be cleaned in the approved way! She was confident Mrs. Murphy would know what to do.

Murphy began to lick and suck the shoulders and upper chest. When the girl was quivering nicely, the crone started sucking and licking her way down the massive left breast while gently massaging the right. When she shifted her mouth to the right breast, squeezed both breasts much stronger this time. Finally only the nipples were left to do. She first bathed each with her tongue and each quickly achieved an even more astonishing length and hardness. Then the dedicated teasing started. Using every technique she knew, Murphy worked on the defenseless nipples.

The old woman's experienced mouth sent shivers through Jane. Her btreasts felt swollen and incredibly sensitive. Each strong squeeze remarkably good. Her nipples felt hard as diamonds as the kindly old woman cleaned them of 'blood'. "There must be a lot on them," Jane thought. "Mrs. Murphy sure is spending a lot of time with them." Her bare toes were curling at the exquisite sensations coming from her breasts.

Forced to lean over topless as her breasts were cleansed, Jane's hands begin to sweat against the wooden pew back she was holding to support herself. Her increasingly confused mind was going crazy with wild thoughts of guilt, disgrace, humiliation and even pleasure. Jane could not deny to herself that what Mrs. Murphy was doing to her very dirty nipples was really starting to get to her in very unusual ways.

So clouded did her mind become, that Jane never felt her skirt unzip and fall softly around her ankles. Now completely naked, Jane's privates were firmly squeezed and caressed. She didn't understand where these 'extra' feelings were coming from, only that they were wonderful. Instinctively her legs spread a little.

Angela, the choir director, happened to look off to the right and was stunned at what she saw going on behind the choir. She did not believe her eyes! It just could not be true, it couldn't be!

It looked like the cute blonde was completely naked and the old woman was...was eagerly sucking the girl's huge tits like a newborn baby! Sweet Jesus! What the hell were they doing back there?

Watching them, Angela felt a strange fluttering in her tummy. The girl was so pretty that she could hardly take her eyes off of her. And that chest! She wondered what it must be like to take a pair of tits like that and...

Whoa! Angela shook her head slightly. What the hell was she thinking? She never thought of girls like that.

She tried to return to her job of directing the choir and listening for cues from below, but, because some of the choir members shifted their places, no matter were she stood now she could always see what was going on with the strange pair in back. She was trapped!

At the realization that no matter what she did, she couldn't get away from watching the strange scene, Angela's tummy began to get very big butterflies moving in there.

Unaware of how naked she really was, her mind clouded with overwhelming sensations, Jane was only aware of how her body was building a terrible, wonderful pressure within her, and that, unless she prevented it, would erupt and cause her to have yet another accident in church. In church! How humiliating!

Mrs. Murphy was only trying to do the right thing for her, yet because of a simple cleaning her nipples felt electrified, and were causing heart-stopping shocks to run through her entire body every time that nice Mrs. Murphy touched them. And her poor cunny! Oh My God! What was happening down there? She was feeling the most exquisite sensations there, driving her mad, but from what? Her own over-heated imagination?

She fought against the rising pressure, tried to focus on anything except her body, but it was too much for her. Her cunt wildly, eagerly convulsed and Jane was overwhelmed! Her sightless eyes flew open!

"OHHhhhh!" she groaned helplessly as her legs gave out and the shuddering teen collapsed on her waist over the back of the pew.

"Oh, no," said Murphy kindly. "Not again? You poor dear."

The old crone carefully licked her hands clean of the teen's sweet essence, which had gushed from the pulsating vagina, as she watched the blonde twitch helplessly from another orgasm. "Mmmmm, mmmm, good," she sang contentedly.

When she was finished and her hands were clean, she pulled the helpless Jane forward into the pew with her, then set the naked teen on her lap, facing toward the front of the church.

Murphy smiled. Her right hand teased the still-pulsating cunt, and her left squeezed those fantastic mounds of tit-meat, as the old woman got comfortable. She was going to keep at it until she drove this sweet innocent girl out of her mind!

While trying not to be too obvious about it, Angela watched fascinated what was happening behind everyone. She noticed how warm it was becoming under her robes. Whenever the girl moved and her breasts shook, Angela's mouth went strangely dry. When the beautiful girl flushed and fell over the pew, the director's heart skipped a beat, but instead of worrying if the girl might be in trouble, she could only stare at the wonderful body that was now on display. She was looking at a beautiful girl naked in church during services, and all she could think about was that magnificent ass gleaming under the loft's lights!

"Angela, are you all right?" asked a member of the choir.

"Yes (gulp). Yes I'm fine. Just thinking about something."

Angela could not understand what was happening to her. She could only pray that the two strangers would quickly finish whatever they were doing, because she was frightened of what it might be doing to her.

"Let's put on a nice show for that lovely girl who keeps staring at us," Murphy whispered in Jane's ear as her clever hands continued their insidious work on the defenseless blonde. Jane, sweat dripping from her naked over- heated body, started grinding her hips in response to the old woman's experienced touches.

"That's a good girl. Give in to it."

Murphy masterfully brought Jane to another heavy orgasm. After that, Murphy knew whatever remaining resistance the teen had would be gone. The girl will be hers! All hers! She thought of the candles she had stolen from the reception area and grinned evilly. She would certainly put them to good use.

Aware once again they was being watched, Murphy looked directly into the fevered worried eyes of the beautiful choir director. Well, perhaps Jane was not just for her after all. She whispered in Jane's ear, "Cum for the nice choir director. She's watching you, watching you grind. She can see your nakedness. Cum for her, my precious."

Jane, nearly blind with arousal, tried desperately to focus on the choir director to see if it's really true and was stunned to realize that IT WAS! The woman was watching her! Jane weakly tried to paw at Mrs. Murphy's thin wrinkly arms to push them away, but she was too weak. She could not believe that someone was actually seeing her naked, not to mention while she was being hand-cleaned by an old woman, IN CHURCH! She can't believe what's happening. Her overwhelmed mind had no idea what to do or how to escape. Every time she tried to move, she only squirmed. Her hips rolled around and her ass rubbed gleefully onto Mrs. Murphy's thin thigh bone. This was terrible! She can feel beads of sweat roll down her back into her ass crack, down her sides, between her breasts. She wanted desperately to leave but her hips just rock back and forth.

"Oh no!" she screamed in her mind! "I'm cumming again and I can't stop it. That lady is going to see me cum! Oh God! Oh God! She's going to see me cum!"

"AAAhhhh!" the teen moaned in her torment. Why can't she stop it?! She feels so weak, so helpless! Her arms lay limply at her sides. She can't move them. What must she look like to that lady? An unbelievable thought entered her ravaged mind. Is it Mrs. Murphy? Is she causing this? She looked down to see her sweaty body was now cleaned of all signs of the spilled wine, but the old woman's hands were still on her, touching her privates. And not just touching! She saw how the fingers of old woman's right hand were deep in her poor cunny! NO! IT CAN'T BE! IT CAN'T!! Is she really ALLOWING this old woman to finger her and play with her tits like this? What's wrong with her? Why was that nice Mrs. Murphy doing this to her?

But her suspicions came much too late for Jane to save herself.

Jane, her mind already overwhelmed by all that had happened, was pushed over the edge by the shocking realization that it was Mrs. Murphy who was touching her, abusing her. This gave Murphy the opening she was waiting for with the devastated teen.

"Cum for us. Cum for us now," the old woman whispered.

The teen, her mind now a complete void, began to hear strange things in her head. "Cum." That's what she kept hearing. "Cum." Yes, that was what she would do. It was what she wanted to do. Pushed beyond endurance, the person that once was the demure Jane Tarp now only wanted to cum and cum and cum!

"UGHHHH!" Jane grunted helplessly as her young body climaxed once again. Her hips pushed frantically onto the intruding fingers, trying to drive them deeper into her tight cunt. Her shoulders were thrust back, offering her proud breasts for more exquisite touching. She couldn't fight it any longer. Her needs were all she had left, and at this point, her needs were insatiable!

The beautiful blonde 19-year-old opened her tanned legs as far as possible so the evil Mrs. Murphy could easily reach her steaming cunt while the teen started to maul her own giant tits.

Jane Tarp was out of control and Mrs. Murphy couldn't have been happier!

Angela felt the strange nervousness within her becoming almost intolerable. Her mouth was so dry she had given up singing some time ago, yet her palms were ridiculously sweaty.

The choir director became more beside herself the longer she watched the fascinating events going on behind the choir. Her choir robe was like a sauna suit. She felt smothered, it was so hot inside. Each time she moved her arms, puffs of heated moist air billowed out through every opening. Her clothes are cutting into her flesh under the robe and Angela could not understand why they were suddenly many sizes too small. She could barely breathe and found it getting almost impossible to concentrate on the music any longer. Her eyes keep flicking to the cute blonde and less and less on the choir. Thoroughly ashamed by the realization, she suddenly needed to touch herself in the worst way. It all became too much for her to ignore. Angela started to squeeze her nylon-covered thighs together and rub her legs. Surely everyone will think she has to go to the bathroom, but she doesn't care. All she wanted to do was watch the beautiful girl continued to be abused in the worst way.

"Damn that old lady" she cursed in her mind. "Taking advantage of that sweet blonde girl like that." What worried Angela was that she was not sure if it was pity or jealously which made her think that.

She tried to fight it, tried to keep her mind on other things. It's not that she wanted to watch, oh no. Not at all. She doesn't want to watch because it was all so disgusting and dirty, but she can't stop. Each time she allowed her eyes to shift back to Jane's writhing body, she felt something welling up deep inside her own body. "What's going on?" the very confused Angela kept asking herself. She's never felt anything like that before about a girl. Never!

Her eyes moved to the blonde again and she felt a familiar twinge of arousal in her loins. She squeezed her knees together to try and get rid of the unwanted feeling before someone from the choir recognized her flushed appearance for what it was. This was awlful! She was losing it! She was losing control right there in the choir loft and there was nothing she could do about it!

The poor choir director had never had ANY tendencies toward women before. Not once in 25 years. Always the one in control, Angela has known some very satisfying experiences with men...until now. Now, for some bizarre reason, watching that beautiful buxom blonde girl writhing on the lap of that dirty old woman while the old woman openly fingered her and played with her huge tits was...EXCITING! More exciting then anything she had ever seen or felt before.

She shook her head and tried to clear the growing cobwebs in her head. "STOP THIS!" she yelled in her distraught, confused mind. She desperately tried to focus on the music and the mass, but it had become impossible. Her own heated flesh was driving her crazy and she wanted nothing more than to touch herself in the worst way.

Again she snuck another glance and the blonde girl's eyes met hers. She gasped and held her breath. The young girl froze for a moment, too. Angela looked away and pretended she didn't see anything, but her insides were melting.

Anticipation was killing her. What was happening? She NEEDED to watch. She had to find out what was going on over there. She looked over again and saw the young girl weakly paw at the old woman's arms. "Is she trying to push her away?" Angela asked herself "or is she begging for more?" She could see how the blonde's stomach was heaving in short staccato movements with her eyes squeezed shut and her head begining to roll loosely on her smooth shoulders.

"There doesn't seem to be much "fight" in the girl if she wants it to stop," Angela told herself, "so she must be enjoying it." For some reason the thought of the blonde fighting excited her even more.

The longer the director thought about the blonde girl, the more aroused she became. None of it made any sense. Soon she was burning under her clothes, the slightest movement of her body was causing the strangest tingles to run through her. Why does the action of these two perverts bring her to such arousal? Here they are in church of all places and this old woman was having lesbian sex with this gorgeous young blonde up here in the choir loft. She should be reporting them for their indiscretions, but instead all she can do was watch. Why?

Thankfully Angela noticed that the services were almost over and the choir was preparing to leave the loft and go down to attend the sermon. Thankfully there was a spare classroom in the basement which was always set aside for the choir members and their personal effects, so Angela could count on their quick departure from the loft. Still, she had to make sure that no one found out what she had been staring at all morning. She would die if they knew.

"Everyone, look at me," she said in as steady a voice as she could manage.

She silently led the choir to the exit while trying not to run. She had to get everyone out, she had to be alone in the loft, then she could...find out what was going on. That was all she wanted, to find out what was going on.

Everyone looked expectantly at her as she stopped at the doorway and motioned them to leave. As they were filing out, she said quietly, "Just wanted to tell you that it was a great performance. Have a wonderful week and see you all next Sunday."

The choir members laughed softly at the joke, and went down the stairs.

The last member to leave stopped in front of Angela. It was Mary, a young woman her age who was her best friend there.

"Angela, what is going on? Are you all right? You've been acting a little strange all morning."

"Really?" Angela gulped as she saw the old woman beckon to her over Mary's left shoulder. "I'm...I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Coffee afterwards downstairs?"

"Can't make it today. Next Sunday, for sure."

"Okay, Angela. Take care."

"Bye, Mary. See you Sunday."

The young woman went down the stairs, leaving Angela and the strange couple at opposite ends of the loft.

Murphy watched the choir depart with satisfaction. Now the can really get started. She motioned to the beautiful choir director who still stood frozen by the door to come and join them. The young woman shook her head, then slowly walked to the podium at the front of the loft. Her eyes were constantly on the nude Jane with a fixed absorbed stare.

"She coming for you," Murphy whispered seductively to the teen. "Go to her. Go to her and love her."

"Love!" gurgled Murphy's creation that was once Jane Tarp.

"Yes, love. Go love her."

The sex-crazed teen stood and moved eagerly towards the trembling brunette standing behind the podium.

Murphy gathered up her candles and followed.

End 1 of 2