When Julie woke up on Sunday morning, for a moment or two she felt
confused. Then she remembered that this was University, this was her room, oh, and today is Sunday! A moment of panic controlled her. If it is Sunday, then she must get up and get ready for Church!

Then, just two seconds later, the memories of last night crowded in! The fun she'd had! Kissing Sandy! Oh my goodness, drinking wine! She had felt so happy, drinking wine! Whatever would her father say? Then Julie remembered that new sense of excitement when the boys and girls had got each other wet. It was amazing! Julie had never felt a buzz inside her like this, before!

She settled back in bed for a few moments and closed her eyes. In Julie's mind, she was kissing Sandy, over and over again. Each time the thought recurred, her heart thumped and she felt so excited. She remembered how thrilling her wet blouse felt, clutching against her skin. She loved it when Sandy soaked her with jugs of water!

The wet, clingy feel of his shirt and his body pressing into hers!

In her young adult life, no one had ever seen Julie's breasts. It seemed to her that really no one had ever bothered glancing at her figure before. In her world, as she had been brought up, why should anyone notice her? After all, our sexual characteristics are basically evil, and any sexual thoughts are best avoided. We wear clothes to cover our bodies, and clothes (in the world of her father) are there to hide us away.

But now, she had this immediate memory, demanding attention, of her wet blouse griping against Sandy's equally soaked shirt. The thought would not go away.
Julie knew that she had to go to Church. But every time she moved to get up, the lovely memories of last night suggested that there might be another way to spend the morning.

Julie had carefully divided her available money for the term into weekly amounts. She had ten dollars left for today. She knew that, once in Church, the pastor would make demands on that. The oration from the pulpit always had a strong financial element to it. Julie knew that, listening to the pastor, she would be made to feel that her ten dollars were wholly inadequate. What are ten dollars, set against the sufferings of Christ? Julie was not quite ready yet, at this stage, to wonder how much of that ten-dollar offering was simply set to fund the lifestyle of the pastor.

But Julie was strongly influenced by reality. So when she did get up, it was her leggings and t-shirt that she reached for. Not her Sunday Best outfit; a long, plain dress. As each item of clothing went on, it seemed that a decision was being made. Julie's black leggings stretched tightly over her thighs and her cream-coloured t-shirt flopped loosely over her bum.

In the kitchen, Julie met Sandy. She blushed, she stammered, but Julie managed to smile and Julie was delighted when Sandy kissed her.

"Enjoy yourself last night?" Sandy grinned.

"Yes! Yes!" Julie couldn't think of anything else to say.

"You've got to have some fun, you know!" Sandy went on, in a friendly tone. "Work hard during the week, and even at the weekends, but have some fun too!"

"Oh yes!" Julie agreed. "I'm supposed to go to Church this morning!"

Sandy didn't look too surprised, "You really want to?"

"No, not really!" As these words came out, Julie felt panic rise. It was as if she was uttering blasphemy.

"Well, you should choose what to do!" Sandy added, helpfully. "That's what being a student all is about, isn't it? Making choices! If you change your mind, you can always go next week!"

Julie grimaced. "It's not as simple as that!" She felt that she could trust Sandy. "If I don't go, word will reach my father, and he'll be furious!"

Sandy looked concerned. "That sounds like emotional blackmail to me. Well, you choose. I'm going out this morning, there's an exhibition at the First Nation Heritage Center, and I'll have a coffee there too! Do you want to come with me?"

Julie blushed again. Sandy seemed so kind and genuine. He was right, she was free to choose. "Y...Y...Yes!" she finally said.

"OK then!" Sandy's voice rose in excitement. "Give me ten minutes and I'll meet you here! Now don't change your mind!"

"OK!" Julie went back to her room. The decision was made.

So Julie and Sandy boarded a bus and made their way to one of the City's parks, out on the boundary. Julie's Sunday Best stayed on the hangers, in her wardrobe. The pair of them sauntered around, Sandy was carefree and happy. Several times their hands slipped into each other's. Every few minutes Julie felt a stab of conscience. Her mind followed the order of service which she was so familiar with. She knew that all the Churches in her father's denomination followed the same standard service, so the one in this City would be just like the one at home.

They wandered into the coffee shop and Julie felt relieved when the clock passed twelve and on towards twelve thirty. The service was over now. The damage was done.

The breeze dropped and the sun came out. It shone brightly and it felt very warm in the fall. They strolled over the grass and down towards a wide lake that glistened and sparkled at the foot of a long slope. Little rowing boats were tied up at a short wooden pier and several boats were scattered out over the lake.

"Hey, let's take a boat!" Sandy stepped out purposefully towards the moorings.

"OK then!" Julie broke into a shuffle to catch up with him. "I'll pay! You got the coffee! I've got my Church offering money!" she added, sheepishly.

Sandy tried to stifle a laugh. "Well, you seemed to have calmed the storm, anyway. I wonder if you can walk on the water?"

Julie looked a little shocked by Sandy's irreverence.

The boat boy untied a brightly painted small boat. It was two seats wide in the middle, where the oars were, and had squat benches in the bow and the stern. It looked like it would only just hold four people. Sandy stepped into it, balancing effortlessly as the boat bobbled beneath him. He held out his hand to Julie. She clasped it tightly and carefully planted one foot in the bottom of the boat, lifting it and keeping her weight on the pier as the boat wobbled in response.

"It's OK!" Sandy reassured her, shuffling his feet outwards and shifting his poise from side to side. "It's steady now!"

Julie tried again, this time stepping onboard and quickly sitting down in the front of the craft. The bow seemed quite high in the water; the back looked precariously low.

"Want me to row?"

"Yes!" Julie agreed. She had never been in a rowing boat before.

Sandy sat down facing her. They were so close that their knees almost touched. Julie stretched her legs out on either side of his.

Sandy was no expert rower, but once the oars were firmly in their locks he got into a rhythm and they began to make steady progress out into the lake. Every few strokes an oar cut the top of the water; the boat would swing from side to side and he stopped, raising both oars together before starting to row again. Every few strokes a big splash of water churned up on one side or other, and several of the splashes entered the boat. Most of these splashes went behind Sandy, but several landed on them both and Julie squealed and giggled every time. Church was almost forgotten now.

Sandy loved hearing Julie's little shrieks. He really liked it that she seemed to be feeling more relaxed. Now we cannot be certain about this, but it is fairly likely, at least, that he started "missing" his strokes deliberately. Sandy quickly saw how the splashes came and learned the correct angle at which to hit the water to make them. What is plain is that, as they went on, his use of the oars (from a rowing point of view) got worse, and the frequency of splashing increased. Furthermore, when the splashes came, more and more of them seemed to head towards the front of the boat.

"Hey, I'm getting wet!" Julie exclaimed, but the excited tone of her voice suggested that this was not a complaint. Half a dozen dark blotches marked her t-shirt, with a dozen smaller spots in between. The sun sparkled off little flecks of water on her leggings.

Sandy tried to look surprised. "Do you want to move?" he tried hard to sound concerned.

"Oh no!" Julie replied firmly. "It's too wobbly! And it's even worse at the back!" The bench at the back of the boat was covered with a sheet of water and little rivers ran backwards and forwards along the floor.

"You could sit beside me?" Sandy suggested, helpfully.

Julie pulled a face. "No, you just row!" They were about a hundred yards out by now.
Sandy dropped both oars into the lake, having carefully angled the blades upwards and pushing them slightly forward. A shower of splashes hit the side of the boat and Julie's arm.

"Hey, you did that deliberately!" Julie laughed.

Sandy looked as innocent as a choirboy. "No, I didn't! This is hard work, you know!"

His very next attempt at a stroke was remarkably similar and a bigger shower of splashes landed on Julie's face. She brushed wet strands of hair aside. Her short sleeve was quite wet now and hung limply against her arm.

"Yes, you did!" Julie was trying to sound cross, but her laughing gave away any attempt to reprimand him.

"I'll get you back!" Julie dropped her right arm over the side and scooped a handful of water right over Sandy. He glanced down at the dampness on his jeans. Julie was so pleased with her effort that she did the same again; a bigger handful this time, which took Sandy unawares.

He dropped one oar and took the other with both hands, cutting it across the surface of the lake and sending up a fountain of spray, which landed harmlessly to the side.

"Missed!" Julie squeaked, using her hand again to greater effect, sending streams of water all over Sandy. His jeans looked quite wet now and water dripped from his face and his hair.

Sandy pointed at her mischievously. "Right!" he growled, "I'll not miss this time!"

The oar skimmed back and forwards. It took Sandy a few cuts to find his aim, but Julie was asking for it and Julie was going to get it. She couldn't move, as she more or less filled the narrow bench where she sat. Showers of water landed beside the boat, the next two hit the side of the boat and then the spray reached higher and higher. Julie tried to sit back; she pulled her legs back and rested her arms on the wood behind her. But each successive shower of water worked its way closer, up her legs, over her lap, and then Sandy had his target firmly in his sights. With each splash of the oar, Julie's t-shirt began changing from a light cream to various darker shades, the wet patches joined together and the fabric began to cling to her. There was no stopping now. Julie put her face in her hands but the water went all over her hair and long strands fell forward as they dripped in front of her.

Julie was laughing the whole time. A couple of times she leaned forward, put her hand in the water, and splashed Sandy back, but this battle between hand and oar was unequal. Sandy had perfected his technique. He might not have been able to row very well, but when it came to the ability to use his oar to give Julie a good soaking, he was a master at it. The amount of water his oar kicked up increased all the time until it was like he was throwing bucketfuls over poor Julie.

"I surrender!" she held up her hands. "Truce!" Julie was absolutely drenched now.

Only the side of her t-shirt away from the oar had any dryness and even her back was wet. Her hair was dripping all over. The shape of her bra was pressed against her t-shirt and it was fairly obvious that it was soaked through.

"Truce!" Sandy agreed; his mission was accomplished. It was fortunate for them both that the sun was so warm.

"Look at the boat!" Julie pointed to the floor, which was awash with an inch or two of water. "We're going to sink!"

Sandy grinned, "Don't worry, we're OK!"

He set out back for the pier. Sandy's rowing now showed a remarkable improvement. A wave of water ran along the bottom of the boat, sploshing over their feet, backward and forwards, with each stroke.

Sandy maneuvered the boat flush with the pier and the boatman grabbed it with a hook. He held it steady as they both jumped out; he tried to take his eyes away from Julie's soaked t-shirt, as it enticed him as if showcasing her womanly shape as her boobs bobbed up and down.

"You both been for a swim?" the boatman grinned.

"Sorry about the boat!" Sandy gasped, "I'm not very good at rowing!"

"Oh, we get much worse than this!" The boatman was unperturbed; he unceremoniously upended the boat on the tip of its bow as a torrent of water rushed out and disappeared through the wooden slats below.

Julie walked briskly into the lady's room; she stripped off all her clothes and wrung them tightly into a knot. Even her soaked underwear. She rubbed her hair with her now damp t-shirt and squatted under the hand drier while she dressed. She was gone for ten minutes. When she returned, she wasn't dripping wet anymore and her clothes were just heavily damp.

They went back to the bus stop; holding hands all the way now. Julie and Sandy were fast becoming an item.

Back at their student accommodation, two serious-looking elderly gentlemen were standing in the hall. Both had dark, sober suits.

"We're looking for Julie!" one of them said.

Julie smiled and identified herself. "You missed Church this morning," he intoned. "Your father is deeply concerned."

"Oh, tell him not to worry!" Julie replied brightly. "I'm fine! I'm really settling in well here!"

The elderly gent looked less than impressed. "We are all praying hard for you," he continued earnestly. "You must stand before God and explain yourself. We shall hold a service of repentance for you. Think hard, my child, because your very soul is at stake."

Julie gave him a firm, hard look. "I am thinking hard, I assure you." She replied. "And I shall decide what the right thing to do is. And I shall not be pressured."

There was an awkward silence.

"We will go and pray for you, Julie!" There was a trace of sadness now on the elderly gent's face.

"If you must!" Julie concluded. They parted.

Julie was thinking hard. Julie was choosing life.