Lydia Longley had been in the church choir since she was ten beginning with the Junior Choir. Everyone said that God had given her a beautiful voice and, indeed, He had. Lydia was musical and smart. The choir directors always had her sing in the alto section because she could read music and was a strong enough singer to hold up a part against the melody which not many children could do. Lydia had never suffered from stage fright so she was also often called upon to sing featured solo parts in their choral pieces.
Later, as an adult she became a mezzo-soprano and professionally trained soloist. It suited her body type, as well as her temperament to be a mezzo. Handsome and statuesque, her 5'9" frame supported her substantial womanhood. She wasn't fat, but she sure was, as they say "built like a brick shit house!" For all of her robustness and diva status you might expect her to be loud and pushy, but her speaking voice and attitude were invitingly gentle and pleasant.
On Sunday's she wore her shoulder length chestnut hair tied with a cream ribbon at the nape of her neck in a neat provincial ponytail. The ribbon matched the color of her mid-calf length, cranberry choir robe's stole.
Because of Lydia's imposing height she often had trouble getting dates in high school and college. Coupled with her semi-professional local fame and her intellect she was an imposing presence that many young men's egos could not tolerate. So at the age of 25 she was still a virgin. She had planned to be a virgin until she was married, anyway, as all that church music and church attendance had really shaped her character in that respect. But she was as sexually alive as anyone else and spent many hours perfecting another solo activity to keep her libido in line with her morality.
Lydia loved to cum. She loved its rapturous release of stress and tension. It helped her to unwind and sleep. Lydia had a variety of techniques. Mostly, she just diddled herself with the forefinger of her right hand while rubbing her breasts and squeezing her nipples. Other times she used a small vibrator to stimulate her clit. She didn't want to buy a dildo or anything that, if inserted, would break her hymen. She wanted her husband to do that.
By far though, her favorite way to get off was in the bathtub. Lying on her back, she would skootch down to the end of the tub so that her butt was over the drain and her legs were straight up the wall. With the water pouring full force out of the spout, she would position her clit right under the flow so that the steady stream of water cascading down could beat on it.
Lydia was never sure just how soundproof the walls of her condo were, so she always played music loudly enough, she thought, to cover the cries of ecstasy she could not contain, as without fail, her urban waterfall would transport her to the perfect climax and multiple orgasm.
But Lydia had become bored with her nightly masturbation routines. What she really wanted to spice things up was a man. But since none were currently in sight, Lydia decided to create an erotic daytime expression.
In her mind the perfect place to start to liven things up was at church. Under the cover of her choir robe, who would know what she did or didn't have on, or in, for that matter?
When push came to shove, Lydia did not at first, know how lewd she dared to be. So the first Sunday she was subtle. Lydia wore a skirt and blouse under which she wore her usual bra, but she decided to go commando under panty hose. Just before the service began, Lydia went to the ladies room and slipped off her short skirt. It couldn't be seen under her robe anyway and secreting it in her oversized handbag she returned to her place in the alto section in the choir loft.
"This is fun," she thought. "It feels so naughty, so sinful. Good thing Protestants don't have to go to confession!"
Next week, instead of panty hose Lydia wore thigh highs and a thong. She took off her skirt as she had the week before, but then she also took off her blouse. Singing with the choir, getting up and down through the liturgy with only her intimates on under the cover of her choir robe made her constantly wet. It was so titillating to sit in church, so sexy and so exposed and yet so unexposed. After a while though, Lydia got used to sitting in only her underwear under her robe and it had gotten a kind of sameness to it. So when the warm weather came Lydia decided to take it up a notch.
The first Sunday in June was especially warm and so she chose to put on a simple black linen shift over her naked body. Her tits were firm and proud under the dress even with out her ritual support and no one would think it odd for her to be barelegged in her sandals at this time of year.
Just as every Sunday before the service began, Lydia went to the ladies room to strip off her clothes. For the first time, she would be in church entirely nude except for the shroud of her choir robe. Her nipples became erect, but their proud stiffness was not visible through the robe. This was exciting. She felt so stimulated, so alive and so free.
Returning to her place in the choir she thought, "Well, we are all naked in the sight of God, I've just given him a few less layers to peel off!"
Lydia loved her Sunday morning nudity especially when she sang solos. Standing down front on the altar before the entire congregation singing of God's eternal love, divine grace and supernal power was a spiritual and erotic rush. It was after her solo on the second Sunday in June that she vowed she would never wear anything under her robe again.
* * *
In the fall, Justin Johnston, joined the choir. He was 35 years old and a widower. His wife and only child had died suddenly in a fatal car crash. He had been reclusive for the year following the tragic event, burying himself in his grief and his work, but he knew his wife would not want him to crawl into a hole and withdraw from life. So he gathered his resolve and made his first foray back among the living by going back to church.
He had a fabulous deep bass voice that was just what the choir needed and the easy welcoming fellowship of the Sunday morning choristers was a good place to make his reentry. By being in the choir he wouldn't have to experience the awkwardness of picking a place to sit in the congregation, either. Should I sit alone or with someone? If I sit with someone, who should it be? What would be proper, appropriate? Joining the choir removed the dilemma. They'd tell him where to sit and who sit next to in the bass section.
The choir was set up in two rows. In the front row were the sopranos and tenors and in the back row the altos and basses. As fate would have it, Justin ended up sitting next to Lydia in the center of the back row. Lydia and Justin developed an easy friendship and on Valentine's Day six months after Justin had begun in the choir, he asked Lydia for a date.
A mature and established man, he was not intimidated by Lydia's talents or brains and at 6'2" her 5'9" was not an issue, even in heels. He treated her to intimate dinners out at restaurants and at his home. He took her to the theater and to concerts and sometimes they went for walks or picnics or sat quietly reading books or the paper. They kissed, hugged, walked hand'n'hand and got to know each other very well.
Lydia had fallen in love with Justin back in October and she was thrilled when he finally asked her out in February because she had been going crazy sitting next to him with nothing on but her thigh highs under her choir robe every Sunday.
Justin was a wonderful man and their relationship grew to include a lot of heavy petting so they did share the intimacy of orgasm, but he loved her virginity so he did not pressure her to give it up. This meant, too, that they never spent the night together because they knew they would never be able to resist the temptation. Justin and his first wife had been virgins when they married and he had not forgotten the special connectedness they shared in that bond. No matter how horny he got or how wonderful he knew it would be to penetrate her, he held back.
Lydia was no better off. Her ardor had been so piqued that when she could not be with him she had to masturbate twice a day. She loved Justin and dreamed about their ultimate consummation. How wonderful it would be to experience his full manhood deep inside her, but she had to hold out.
A year passed by and Justin and Lydia had developed what seemed to be a perfect relationship. Justin had fallen in love with Lydia, but he was not sure he was ready to marry again. He wondered if he should terminate their relationship because of her stance on virginity. He didn't want to defile her or hurt her and she deserved to have her ideals at least the first time around. Perhaps he should go away and find someone else.
Despite their closeness, Lydia had not yet divulged her secret to him. What would he think when he found out that sitting next to him every Sunday morning she wore nothing but her birthday suit under her choir robe? She knew she should tell him if their relationship was to be based on honesty and so decided to confess her strange proclivity the very next Sunday.
It is rude to chat during the service at church, so Lydia brought a pad of Post-its to write on. That way she could pass him notes silently during the sermon.
As the minister began his homily she penned the first missive that queried, "What do choir members wear under their robes?"
Justin though it was the lead-in to a joke, so borrowing her pen he wrote back, "I don't know, what do choir members wear under their robes?" and showed it to her.
Taking the pen back and on a new Post-it Lydia replied, "Nothing," and handed it to him.
Puzzled and somewhat put off that Lydia would bother him with something so unfunny during the sermon, that happened to be a good one for a change, he crumpled the note and crossed his arms.
