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Please note: All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.

Please keep in mind the difference between fantasy and reality. *******************************

All my stories can be found at here.

After my little masturbatory experiment in the church baptismal fountain, I became obsessed with the idea of masturbating in church. Just thinking about what I did, the fluttering water, the intense orgasm, made me tingle with delight. More often than not, these memories made my crotch a little damp and I usually ended up with my underwear pulled around my ankles, touching my little button.

The next weekend, I went to the church early on Saturday and met with Father Terry. I convinced him I could clean the church alone and that he should stay home and relax. My heart skipped a beat when he said yes. Why not? He had nothing to suspect. I was a very well-behaved and responsible ten year old girl.

I let myself into the church and made sure to lock the doors behind me. All week long I had been fantasizing about being naked in church again. Relishing the naughty feeling, I quickly stripped off my clothes until my bare skin prickled against the cool church air. I folded up my clothes and put them in a pew.

I started walking around the church, pretending to be casual in my nakedness. As I said before, I always had a deep yearning to be a nudist. I began my cleaning duties, arranging the hymn books and tidying up the pews. At one point I tried sitting down, wanting to see what the cold pew would feel like against my bare skin. It was neat!

I continued tidying the pews, naked as a jaybird, my skinny little butt waving in the air every time I bent down to rearrange a kneeler. I was only halfway done with the cleaning when goosebumps started to prickle my pale skin. It was the eternal problem of every nudist! I was getting cold but I didn't want to get dressed. Shivering, I had an inspiration and headed for the church dressing room.

Returning five minutes later, I was decked out in one of the altar server robes. It was just a full-length robe made of heavy cotton that slipped over my head. It was a compromise since I wasn't fully naked anymore but I had nothing on underneath the robe so the cool air still tickled my young body as I continued cleaning the church.

My thoughts began to wander as I resumed my mindless tasks. Previously, I always had clothes on underneath when I wore the altar server robes. It really felt much more freeing to be naked underneath. The familiar naughtiness crept back into my mind, making my privates tingle. "If I had shoes and socks on, no one would even know I was naked," I thought to myself.

Looking back, it was at this point that my fascination with nudism started to take on an exhibitionist slant. I started to imagine what it would be like if I were naked underneath my robe during a Sunday service. I would be fetching the communion hosts and holding the prayer books for the priest in front of hundreds of people who wouldn't know my naughty little secret.

The thought of being covertly naked in front of so many people really started to turn me on. By the time I finished rearranging the last pew, I was very worked up and more than a little damp in the crotch. I walked to the front of the church and stepped up to the pulpit. The empty pews surrounded me 180 degrees almost but I pretended for a moment that they were full of people.

The thought of all those eyes watching me made me incredibly horny. My privates were tingling like mad now and my little button was itching to be scratched. Even though I was only ten, I needed relief. Swallowing hard, I had another naughty inspiration.

The wooden altar table on the pulpit had caught my eye. During mass, Father Terry would lay out the communion hosts and wine chalices on it to bless them. I clambered onto it, straining my arms to pull myself on top of it. Laying down on the altar table, another wave of naughtiness washed over me as I thought about what I was about to do.

Lying down flat on my back, I started to tug the altar robe up my skinny frame, pushing my butt of the hard wooden surface to allow the robe to slip higher up. When the robe was hiked up to my chest, I took a deep breath and spread my legs to the rows of empty pews.

The feeling was electric. The cool church air felt like almost breezy against my open crotch, emphasizing the growing wetness in my privates. To this day, my mind's eye enjoys the imagery of that moment: a ten year old girl lying on the altar in a stately church, her hairless pussy facing the rows and rows of pews.

Except I remember fantasizing that the pews were filled with people. Watching me. Staring at my privates. I felt like such a dirty girl as I reached down between my legs and started massaging my little button. The touch of my hand was a pure jolt of electricity.

It didn't take long for the good feeling to come that time. I was so turned on and caught up in my exhibitionist fantasies that, for the second time, I had an orgasm in church. I remember the way the hard wood felt against my back and how I was staring up at the high vaulted ceiling of the church when the good feeling crashed into me. My fingers frantically kneaded my little button as I thrust my crotch into the air, spreading my legs even more to the imaginary onlookers in the pews.

After getting my much needed relief, I lay flat on the altar, exhausted. I always enjoyed that warm fuzzy sensation after the good feeling would come. Like previously in the fountain, the good feeling was exceptionally powerful this time. Sprawled out on the altar with cool church air drying out my slick privates, my young mind started dreaming of more ways I could touch myself in church.