Commando Catholic Church

The TMI today made me think of commando stories and I remembered some things which I wanted to post, because while my life currently may be waxing a bit mundane, I still have stories from the past, and I mustn't forget that.

I used to go commando in my Catholic schoolgirl uniform all the time. Those skirts are made for going commando, and you add in the thigh-high tights and you've got just about the greatest image ever. My brother certainly enjoyed it, and I'm pretty sure Dad did too, plus any other recipients of my sexual largess. Anyway, I always tried to go commando on Mass days, because I liked sitting bare-ass on the pews. Made me feel incredibly naughty, usually left some wet spots, kept me interested during long, boring Masses. I am going to Hell if the Catholics are right, because while I may never have actually had sex in the church itself, I've cum during Mass. It's not easy to accomplish, but I did it on several occasions.

Since I'm not a screamer and I can have varying levels of orgasm, a small flush and a few short breaths followed by a sigh of contentment isn't really all that noticeable. It helped that the teachers kept us spread out in the pews to make sure we weren't doing anything. There were feet of space between students.

Now, ideally, I could have sat next to a guy and tempted him from a distance during church, which would have been further proof that I am an unholy succubus. But we sat boys on one side of the aisle, girls on the other, and there weren't too many lesbians at the school I could tempt, unfortunately. But still, I could get up on the kneeler, leave my hands down below the pew, and tease myself. I had to be fairly circumspect while doing it, and ordinarily it would have been impossible, but there was something about the risk and the basic naughtiness that made it fairly easy.

Then, when we sat back down, I'd flip the back of my skirt up, just a little, so I'd be sitting with my cunt against the bare wood. Sometimes the texture would be enough, sometimes I had to shift around a little, but I could usually manage to go in peace before I went in peace (that's a Catholic Mass joke; don't worry if you don't get it).

Now you may argue, and perhaps rightly, that there's no reason I couldn't have gotten myself off while wearing panties. And that's true. I'm not above masturbating through panties. I do it fairly regularly, because I enjoy it sometimes. But in this case, there was something about being bare and sitting on the pew... I guess it's just my basic lack of respect for religion. I don't have anything against it, really, but I'm not Catholic and I kind of resented being forced to go to church when I was younger.

The annoying thing about my little mea culpas (that's another Catholic joke) was that they would just get me wound up. Then I'd spend the rest of the day dying for a fuck of some sort or other. Mike and Dad usually reaped the whirlwind on that once I got home, although occasionally I got other outlets. For instance, the guy with whom I got lucky in the back of the bus once got head out of me after church, which would have been difficult to pull off except we both had a study hall the next period. We just showed up a few minutes late, and the teacher didn't ask questions because she was nice. I think she may have suspected some kind of hanky-panky, or maybe she figured like usual that I was late because I'd been having a cigarette somewhere. Yes, I smoked when I was a yoot. Not often at school, but I'd take the opportunity if I had a rough day. Anyway, she wouldn't have been wrong; I gave head and then smoked and wished I'd gotten penetration. She was young, not particularly devout, and a good teacher who let us have a fair degree of liberty anyway. I took full advantage of that liberty on several occasions.

That, in turn, started a small tradition: I had found the perfect spot behind the church where no one ever went and which was out of sight of everything, so at the end of the day if I wanted some, I'd take my partner, sometimes Mike but often others, there and we'd fornicate, in the parlance of the building behind which we were doing it. I say small tradition because it didn't happen often. I say sometimes Mike because usually I wanted to go home and do it there with him. It was usually with other guys I couldn't really bring home, or didn't want to. There was a wall with no windows and a row of bushes and a tree, and we'd fuck up against the wall. The uniform made it incredibly easy to do; just flip up the skirt, unzip the pants, and go to town.

All of that was set-up for my most embarrassing commando story. As I said, I would flip up the back of my skirt when I sat back down, just a little. I guess one day I flipped a little too hard, and there was a teacher there to see. After mass, she called me aside and said that she wasn't interested in being embarrassing to the church, so she'd overlook it this time, but if I ever did what I was doing again, she'd make my life miserable. Not in those words, but that was the implication. I thought she meant she'd caught me diddling myself in church, and it was one of those moments when I really wished God would smite me just so I wouldn't have to live with the embarrassment of the moment. I tried to explain, to lie, let's face it, but she wasn't having any of it, and she said, "Besides, think if the boys had seen. Good Catholic girls don't show off their flesh in church." At which point, I realized she'd just seen me flipping up my skirt. She gave me a lecture about modesty and how good Catholic girls wear modesty shorts under their skirts, and it was all fairly awkward, but it wasn't as bad as I'd originally thought. It did scare me straight for a few church visits, which were the most boring church visits ever.

But with some distance between me and the event in question, I've had some thoughts. For one, if the boys had seen, I would have been perfectly okay with that. Nothing wrong with advertising in the church bulletin, as it were. For another, I'm not a good Catholic girl. I never have been. There are a few doubts in my mind as to whether I'm a good anything girl. But I'm not Catholic. Sure, I suppose refined young ladies of any stripe don't show off the goods, let alone pleasure themselves surreptitiously, in church. Me, I wish I'd been able to pull off having sex in church, either during the service or afterward, even in the confessional. Talk about hot. Yes, my upbringing has warped me slightly.

Now, all joking aside, let's just consider the point that good girls are supposed to wear shorts under their Catholic schoolgirl skirts. I was never one, but some girls didn't like the skirts at all, and unless they were forced to do so, they wore pants. But even they had to wear the skirts on Mass days. We all know Catholic schoolgirl outfits aren't exactly the purest things ever, and not just because their purity has been corrupted. I mean, the skirts are short, the stockings draw the eye... yeah, there's a certain element of purity corrupted there, but that's not all there is. Do Catholic schoolboys have to wear hotpants?

The admission that good girls should wear something to keep from being revealing underneath the uniform suggests to me that the uniform is revealing. And Catholic schoolgirls don't choose to wear this uniform. So the school is making girls wear revealing clothing, then expecting them to cover themselves up voluntarily. I call bullshit on that. Further proof that repressed sexuality will get you in the end, no matter what.

Anyway, after a few weeks, the embarrassment reduced, and I got really bored again, so I was just more careful from then on. I'm proud to say that, at the graduation ceremonies (which were held in the church, with a long Mass included) I wore no panties under my robes. I had to wear clothes under the robe, but no panties. The robe made it impossible to leave one last butt print on the pew, but I was doing it in spirit.

As an editorial addendum, I have nothing against Catholics, and have grown out of my rebellious stage, so I hope I'm not offending anyone (well, anyone I'm not already offending with my lifestyle). And I know that Catholic schoolgirl uniforms have skirts which are longer than miniskirts, and that a certain portion of the blame must be parceled out to us schoolgirls who went out of our ways to roll up said skirts so they'd be thigh-high. Got in trouble for that on more than one occasion. I just never understood why they were skirts and not either dresses or pants. And I always felt really sorry for the girls who had to wear skirts even if they didn't want to. I was friends with a few of those girls. They had rights too.