Written by little girl Watcher
It was Sunday when all this happened of course. My husband Ron and our two boys, Jack and Steve and I were gathered around the altar of our church while our priest, Father Gandan, christened our seventeen month old daughter Paula. Everything was just about perfect. Ron looked happy, and was working the camcorder to record our little girl's baptism and both the boys looked adorable standing there in their church suits. They weren't fidgeting or fighting at all, which is quite a feat for two little boys, nine and ten years old respectively; during -what for them- is a boring Sunday service.
We were standing in front of our entire congregation and the church was, as usual, packed. I had warned the boys earlier that they were to be on their best behavior during the service today. No fart jokes, no fighting and no playing with their little cocks in front of the crowd.
As exciting as my husband and I might have found THAT particular idea, we somehow didn't think the congregation would feel the same, and while our ties with the church were tenuous at best...our personal philosophy being what it is...we respect the beliefs of others and had no wish to make anyone there uncomfortable.
Still in my heart of hearts I did find the idea of both my sons jacking themselves off in front of everyone to be a mild turn on. My pussy began to get moist under my tan knee length skirt and I felt my nipples stiffen inside the thin cotton of my bra. I bit my tongue hard enough to make my eyes water. My husband and I didn't have many morals, as I think you'll agree by the end of this story; but getting horny in church was a common no-no we both agreed on. It seems disrespectful somehow. On the other hand, I knew that the baptism here was only the first shower my baby girl was going to get today, and the second would be a lot wetter, a lot hotter and a lot more intimate.
My bladder gave a little twitch and my mind wondered some more.
With trouble I got the mental picture of my little boys shooting their cum all over the front row out of my head and turned back to the sight of my beautiful baby girl going through a special experience. Watching Father Gandan baptize Paula didn't help break me out of my horny mood especially. Oh, he was doing everything okay alright, all the right words and actions; and when we all looked at the videotape later everything looked perfect, was perfect in fact; but I would have been happier if the old fuck could have kept his mind on the service and his eyes off my son's asses! We usually sat in the front row at church, we didn't go that often so it seems like a good trade off; and often during the sermons I'd watch his eyes flicker across my sons crotches over and over, and then today whenever we'd walked up to the front he'd made it a point to let us pass and then stared at my little boys asses while they walked.
I even saw the old bastard lick his lips!
Ron always thought it was funny, but I wasn't nearly as thrilled. I didn't have a problem with a man who liked little boys, my husband had sort of a passing interest in young cocks himself...now and then; but Father Gandan made it a point to drone on endlessly about the "evils" of sex and pornography and perversion almost every week! Well, every week our family managed to attend anyway. His calling down fire and brimstone on anybody who would dare to admit they enjoyed fucking, while at the same time having a whopper of a hard on hidden in his black pants left a bad taste in my mouth.
I have no use for a hypocrite.
So while he droned on I let my attention travel to Paula. She was cradled gently in his arms, and soaking wet from her recent dipping. I had dressed her in a beautiful little white dress and tights, with black shoes and, more importantly; a thin black belt wrapped around her plump little waist. White signifies that which is pure and wholesome, which Paula with her thin pale blonde curls and rosy pink cheeks -both sets- certainly was. Black on the other hand is more traditionally reserved for the darker end of the human spectrum....hate, death and selfishness all come to mind; but the earthy basis I had In Mind when I dressed my daughter that morning wasn't fear or pain, but sex! Perverted, disgusting, kinky....and highly satisfying I might add...fucking!.....(cont)
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