God's Flock 3


By Katzmarek


Nan and I drove back to camp. We were grinning stupidly at each other, patting each other's leg and making indecent remarks.


It was a bright spring day, full of hope, prospect and new beginnings. The East Coast of NZ's North Island has some of the greenest countryside around in that season. By high summer its usually burnt brown. Suffice to say it was day to remember.


As we rounded a wide curve I noted a large blue Volvo coach waiting to turn from a side road. It just didn't register with me until we were nearly up to it. My mind was simply away with the fairies.


Nancy clicked first and exclaimed,


"SHIT it's THEM!"


She then threw herself across the seat with her head in my lap, a somewhat compromising position to anyone observing.


Now my old Bedford Beagle died long ago but needs some mention. It was basically a 1968 Vauxhall Viva van specifically for 'commercial' use. Unlike the Viva it had no side windows, except the driver's and passenger's, of course.


This meant there was ample area for some decoration. Its original green colour had long been augmented by grey primer around the guards, sills and bonnet. On the sides I had painted 'Black Sabbath Birmingham Rocks'in large black gothic script. It was the sort of thing you did in those days.


Needless to say, it made the van somewhat distinctive. Upon reflection it wasn't the most tactfully illustrated vehicle to take to a Christian camp.


The Volvo had a considerable height advantage over us and Nan's reputation would have been better served if she'd remained upright in her seat.


As we passed the bus I could see John standing next to the driver staring straight down into the Beagle's drivers seat.


There was only one woman at the camp who had as blonde a shade of hair.


"Do you think he saw us?" Nan asked, hopefully.


"If he didn't he should wear glasses," I told her.


We spent the rest of the journey working out some plausible excuses. None seem to fit the available facts and were far from believable. Unless John was a complete idiot, of course.


When the bus arrived, Nan and I were sitting on the bench outside the dining hall bracing ourselves for the forthcoming lecture. As the sightseers alighted they waved and laughed in our direction. We waved back and laughed along with them.


John stalked up to us, glaring at a few eavesdroppers who had lingered to watch the fun. John watched them wander away before speaking to us.


"Where did you two get to?" he asked.


"We went on a picnic," I answered, " down the coast a way."


Although I answered his questions, all the time he was directing himself at Nancy.


"Did you tell anybody where you were going?"


"I was going for a drive when I spotted Nancy walking along the beach," I lied."We decided to go on a picnic, it was a spur of the moment thing. I'm sorry if I broke the rules."


"Yes... well, we can't have people going off like that," he continued, "Nan, you should know better. Your parents would be upset if we allowed you to go driving around the countryside. What if something happened to you?"


I had to accept that he had a point. Charged with the responsibilty of ensuring the group's safety it would have been their necks that would be in the noose should anything happen.


"I'm sorry John," I conceded, "put it that way and of course you're right.  We'll tell you when we're going out again."


Nan gave a little start beside me. She sensed I was baiting him. Ignoring me, John continued addressing Nancy.


"Nancy... your behaviour... We need to think about how we're to serve Jesus's expectations of us."


'Here it comes,' I thought to myself.


"God wants us to follow the path of righteousness. The temptations of the Devil are everywhere waiting to deceive us away from His path."


All this time Nan looked at a spot near her feet. She was worried John would convey news of her 'behaviour' to her parents.


"God wants us to be happy," Nan said, almost inaudibly, "I did nothing wrong... I was with Don all the time. I'm old enough to..."


"Old enough!" John bristled, "to do what, Nan?"


"To look after myself, John," she replied defiantly.


"Fornicate with the Devil you mean!" John spat.


Nancy stared at him open mouthed, we both did. I wasn't sure what to say lest I make the situation worse. Nan mouthed some words before she was able to say,


"WHAT?"


"FORNICATE, Nancy. Lying with someone who is not your husband who, for all we know, has been sent by the Devil to blind us... to lead us away from His path..."


"Oh bullshit, John..." I couldn't contain myself any longer.


Nan sent me a warning glance, I subsided.


"I never... I didn't sleep with him!" Nan protested.


"Don't lie... God hears everything you say."


I was getting angry by this stage, my caution was ebbing away.


"She's telling the truth, arsehole," I said, "and what fucking business is it of yours anyway? She's over 16 for Christ's sake."


Admittedly I could have put that rather more delicately, oh well...


"YOU TAKE YOUR FILTHY MOUTH OUT OF HERE," he roared at me.


People stopped in their tracks all around the camp as his voice echoed off the buildings.


I stood up, Nan cried,


"NO! it's alright..."


Nan pushed herself between John and I.


"Just GO!" she exhorted me, " go on... get in your van," then more quietly, "I'll be alright...please!"


"I'll need to get my gear... from the hall," I told her.


"Get it and go, please... it's not worth it."


She pushed me away from John in the direction of the concert hall.


"My number's in the book," she told me quietly, "call me, during the day, when we get back."


I complied with her instructions, loaded up the van and left the camp.


The group had another week before they were due to return home. A week of anxiety for me and, god knows what terrors for Nan. The film, 'The Exorcist' had just come out, I recall, and it gave me no comfort.


I was also broke and the Government Labour Department had firmly suggested that I seek paid employment. At the top of the list I received from them was the Council Bus Service.


I indignantly dragged my heels all the way to the job interview, determined they would find me unsuitable. They didn't, I got the gig, I was to become a Trolley Bus driver.


15 years later I left the, now privatised, bus service as senior driving instructor and employment officer, but back then, I gave myself a month, tops. Life is full of surprises, so they say.


In truth, I loved the job the moment I sat in a cantankerous, 30 year old B.U.T/ English Electric/ Metro-Cammell Weyman Trolleybus. The brute had no power-steering, an unsprung driver's seat with a sheet of hardboard as padding, well it felt like it, and a cab layout requiring the maximum amount of effort to do the minimum task.


Wellington is much like San Francisco only smaller, and steeper. The streets are impossibly narrow and no logic seems to have guided the original town planners. 


In my little rural township where I live today its impossible to imagine how anyone managed to guide an electric bus, confined to a strip of road 20 feet wide, by virtue of the need to stay underneath overhead wires, through rush-hour traffic. Go wide of the lane and the poles mounted on the roof would come off the wires and leave you like a floundering whale, dead. There was no battery auxillary power because of weight considerations.


Anyway, I would have three weeks training before sitting the three licenses required to drive city Trolleybuses. It was a cruise and a lot of fun. 


I spent my evenings propping up the bar at the 'Green Howard,' a popular musician's haunt in those days. Wellington's small rock community hung out there to relax, swap gossip and check out any gigs that might be on offer.


One day I got talking to a couple of guys who'd just returned from Australia. Their band had tried to break into the Aussie scene but had broken up in the process. These guys had decided to return home.


"Have you heard of a band called 'Slowhand'?" I asked them.


"From Adelaide?" one said, "been going for years... I hear they're playing metal these days, like every other sod."


"This guy used to play for them, a kiwi," I told them, "he's a Christian now."


"Aw bullshit," the guy said, " they've had the same line-up since 1968."


"That can't be true," I replied, "that would mean this guy John was playing with them since he was about 12."


"Ask Brent," the guy insisted, "he opened for them in Melbourne last summer."


I asked Brent Raymond, drummer for ace guitarist Billy T.K's band 'Human Instinct.' He confirmed the information, John had never played in any band in Australia or anywhere else that anyone could remember. In short, Youth Leader John of the Assembly of God was a liar.


I admit, I felt a malicious glee at the news. Some bike dude had even seen John's Ariel Square Four customised motorcycle, in 'Custom Bike' magazine. The talented builder was a Dutchman from Groningen, not a Kiwi from Lower Hutt.


The more I thought about it the angrier I became. John had spun me a crock  that I'd swallowed hook and line. He and his friend had then scared the living crap out of me that day in the room above the church. They'd got me so worked up I'd halucinated angels and bolts of bloody lightning. I felt an absolute fool.


And he had the temerity to accuse my Nancy of lying to him! Damn! I wished Nan had not stood between us. Ok, he was bigger, fitter and stronger, but just one swing at his sanctimonious, holier-than-thou face and I would have worn my subsequent injuries with pride.


By the end of our second week of training on the buses we were to sit the written exam for our licenses. The test was ludicrously easy and seemed designed to ensure no-one failed.


1) When you see an amber light, do you:


a) Speed up to get across the intersection quickly?


b) Slam your breaks on as hard as you can?


c) Slow down and prepare to stop?


Doh! That was an absolutely true question from the exam.


It was a simple multiple choice exam with the Police Department generously supplying the answers several days before. Therefore it was no more than a straight memory test. Nevertheless we were allowed time off work for 'study.'


The next Monday I rang Nan at her home. Her parents both worked so she was  on her own.


She told me that John had confined her to camp for the rest of that week. She had been required to learn some selected Bible texts and recite them that evening in front of the whole camp.


While in front of the group, she had to pray for forgivness and 'suffer' the 'hands on.'


That meant kneeling while John placed his hands on her head and begged the 'Lord' to raise this poor sinner up.


I told her it was a corny bit of theatre designed to cement-in John's control. She told me she wasn't sure. She was just glad he wasn't going to  tell her parents.


Nancy was shocked when I told her about the lies John had told me.


"Are you sure you heard him correctly?"


"Absolutely! Bikes and bands, I remember everything."


"That's dishonest. He can't make up stories about himself like that. What's his problem?"


"Trying to impress, I guess. I think he has a crush on you, by the way."


"Oh that!" she laughed, " I've known that for ages. He asked me out once but I turned him down."


"Imagine a date with him?" I joked, "nothing 'unwholesome' like a movie, no sir. Sitting reading the holy book together, that's as good as it gets folks."


"Stop it, you're cruel," she chided, " he's not that bad."


She told me she missed me and I told her I missed her.


We talked on the phone for about half and hour. She was worried about her parents. It bothered her that she was deceiving them and realised that someday they would have to meet me.


Nancy was very close to her mum and dad. Her family, she had a sister and two older brothers all married and moved away, were the tightest I've ever seen. There was nothing her parents wouldn't do for her.


This made it harder for Nan to keep secrets from them.


Nevertheless, we arranged for me to visit her when I was on 'study' leave. I suggested we go riding on my motorbike, a Kawasaki 650.


I picked her up the next day. It wasn't the most successful ride. One carburator had a sticking float and petrol was dripping out of the breather tube onto the back tyre. After standing at the lights for any length of time the tyre spun on take off and slewed sideways. To feel Nan gripping me around the waist in alarm was almost worth the hassle.


Unfortunately it terrified my Nancy and she never pillioned with me ever again. She never watched me at the track during racedays either. She wouldn't relax until I got home in one piece. However, that was all in the future.


She made me burgers for lunch. They weren't the same over here she told me. There was probably more meat in the patties and less additives.


Her house was expensive and very modern. He father was an Electrical Engineer who designed production control equipment for a large multi-national glass manufacturer. Her mother owned a small chain of florist shops. 


Both her parents worked hard and long at their occupations leaving their youngest daughter considerable independence. Needless to say, money wasn't a problem in their household.


After lunch she asked me if I wanted to see her room. Her sparkling eyes and silly grin made it obvious she had something more in mind.


Somewhat incongruously, she had a little collection of Teddy Bears. Each one had a name, Mr Snuggles, Droopy, Celie, were a few. She picked each one up and gave a short history before carefully placing it back.


She was wearing tightfitting pre-faded Levis and a billowy floral top. Each time she stooped my eyes fixed on her too-perfect bottom, my mouth went dry.


I came up behind her as she stood and slipped my arms around her waist, drawing her carefully against me.


"When are you parents getting home?" I whispered.


Swallowing, she replied,


"Mom around six, or later, Dad won't be in before 7, at least. They have a problem at his work with the glass kilns and..."


"So we have 5 hours?" I interrupted.


"4, you'd better be gone in case mom gets home earlier, she does that sometimes when..."


I kissed her neck gently and sucked her little single earing into my mouth.


"Um, she always stays until closing so she can lock up. Hmm, then she cashes up and..."


I moved my hands up to her breasts, she wore no bra and I could feel the warmth of her flesh through the cotton of her top. I teased her nipples, they stiffened to my touch.


She moved suddenly to the window and pulled the curtains.


"Shut the door," she instructed me quietly.


"Do you want to get in bed?" she asked shyly, "it's a squeeze..."


"Ok," I smiled.


In the dimmed light she began to undo the buttons of her top. I faced her in anticipation and pulled off my T-shirt. I watched her as she shed her blouse to reveal her pale skin and small breasts, bobbing slightly on her chest.


Grinning self-consciously she started to undo her jeans, I copied her actions and undid mine. We were in our socks as this was a household where you left your footwear outside the door. Therefore there was no messy moments of trying to take shoes off with pants around our ankles.


Soon Nan was standing in her panties, white with a blue daisy pattern. She giggled as she looked down at my erection straining inside my Jockeys.


We slipped into her narrow single bed and immediately began kissing each other hungrily. We squirmed and rolled around, as much as possible, exploring every inch of each other's bodies. When I pushed my hands into her panties and onto the cheeks of her bottom, she moaned and kissed me harder.


She pulled my cock out from my undies and caressed and squeezed it. I was the one to moan then.


I rolled on top of her and between her legs. My erection slid tantalisingly over her panty covered mound, she scissored me with her thighs and gyrated herself against me.


I slid my hand between us and pushed my fingers under her waistband. Her pubic hair was warm and slippery as I sought out her slit. Gasping, she whispered in my ear,


"Did you bring anything?"


"Back pocket," I gulped a reply, "do you want to?"


"Get it... I want to feel you..."


I grabbed my trousers from the floor and retrieved the packet of condoms. As I struggled to pull one from its wrapper, Nan bent down and gave my cock a little suck. It sent a jolt of feeling through my body.


I smoothed the rubber over my erection and, almost as an afterthought, Nan took off her panties. She then shuffled to the middle of the little bed and opened her legs, knees bent, thighs splayed.


As I crept on top of her she grabbed my cock and pulled it down towards her waiting vagina. With a look of concentration she fed it into herself.


My cock twitched with the warmth suffusing from her vagina. The tip itched   as I slid slowly into her. She sighed and told me I felt great.


Nan loved sex, even in our lowest moments together. We began our sexual life together that day and it was always good and always full of wonder.


She thrust back at me as fiercely as I did towards her. Moaning, gasping, she clutched me by my arse cheeks and pulled me into her. She came quickly, before me, and again when I finally exploded within her.


Nancy made me feel like I was the greatest lover of all time. Her second orgasm was spectacular. She thrashed, screamed, jerked and stiffened with the intensity, while I held on for all I was worth.


Somewhat later, who remembers the time? she wanted to go again and I unwrapped another condom. I asked if i could come into her from behind and she readily agreed.


I kissed, bit and kneaded her beautiful arse before sliding in again. As I found a rhythm I playfully gave her cheek a slap. Nancy gasped and asked for me to do it again, but harder.


My hands left a red imprint on her bottom as she encouraged me to hit her again. After each slap she moaned and thrust back at me harder. I grabbed her hips and sped up as I neared my own crisis. Nan buried her head in her pillow and screamed out her pleasure as she came.


Afterwards we cuddled together, arms around each other, her head on my chest.


"You don't mind that my breasts are small?" she asked me at some point.


"They're beautiful," I assured her while playing with a nipple.


"They never grew from when I was 13," she told me.


"Do they feel good when I play with them," I asked.


"Hmm, hmm," she replied, "they're sensitive."


"I love watching you when you're turned on," I said, " your face is so sexy."


We kissed some more before I asked,


"Do you play with yourself?"


"Hmm, do you?" 


"Of course! Nan... can I watch you... you know... finger yourself. It's one of my turn-ons."


"Really," she replied, "um... I'm not sure I can concentrate with you watching... but I'll try."


She threw back the covers and spread her legs. Giggling she put her finger over her clitoris and began a circular motion, shutting her eyes.


"Are you going to do it too?" she said.


"Sure." I began to stroke my erection.


"What are you thinking about?" I asked her.


After a bit of coaxing she started telling me her fantasy. Eyes shut, her finger rubbing herself she told me the tale.


"I'm at this party. I have to go to the bathroom but I leave the door open. I'm sitting down on the john... and this guy comes in. He has his zipper open... he has his big cock in his hand... ready to pee. He sees me and... he gets stiff."


"Like me babe?" I interrupted.


"Yes... hot and hard... oh... and... and... he comes up to me and I put my mouth over it... oh... ooo... um... so hot and hard."


"Are you rubbing yourself?"


"Yes rubbing... uh... hard. He grabs me... pulls me up...oh... oh... pushes me over the basin. He does me hard... ooo... from behind. He's grabbing my breasts, squeezing. He's rough... and I'm coming... on his big fat... ooo, babe... nearly... there... OH... AAAHH..."


I was not far behind her. She watched me as I spurted over her chest.


"I win, I win," she cried with satisfaction, " ooo, you've made me all messy!"


We took a shower together afterwards and cleaned each other thoroughly.


"I'm falling in love," she told me as I held her. I was too, but how do we tell her parents?


Katzmarek (C)











