Chapter 3: Relaxing With Daphne – Kate I .3 – Sunday

I woke the next morning on my back under the covers. Daphne was lying on her side facing away from me. I let out a little moan as I stretched my legs, then let my body go limp. Waking up like this felt natural. Normal. It surprised me.

Daphne must have been awake, because she obviously heard me. “What are you moaning about?”

“How big of a pain in my ass you are,” I said, giving her butt cheek a light playful slap.

“I’m quite aware how jealous you are of my ass,” she replied as she rolled onto her back, turning her head to face me. Sliding back the covers, she got out of bed. “You should go do your ‘little workout.’ I’m going to shower and make breakfast before church.” She also reminded me we needed to stop at the butcher to pick up some lamb.

“But it’s Sunday...” I instantly realized I sounded like a whiny teenager. Sunday mornings were always my lazy, do nothing constructive time.

She gave me a stern look and, in an even sterner voice, said, “Yes, Sunday. And we go to church and have a nice evening meal.” Her hands were on her hips as she spoke. It took all my self-control not to laugh because she was naked. She must have noticed my expression, because she gave me a look, pointed at the bedroom door, and said, “Go.”

I did. After dressing, I worked out for about a half hour — enough to work up a good sweat. By then Daphne was out of the shower and doing something with her hair. Another elegant braid. “Your hair looks really nice,” I told her. Then I added, “Do you ever wear clothes?”

Without missing a beat, she said, “You know you’ll eventually just take them off me and have your way with me. I’m afraid someone will be over and find my panties in the couch cushions.”

“I’ve never seen your panties,” I replied. And it was true.

“And you’re not worried about finding any in the couch cushions?” she shot back.

“Do you even own any?” I asked while stripping and walking past her to the shower.

“Yessss,” was her reply. It was her turn to sound like a whiny teenager.

As she left the bathroom, she told me my clothes would be laid out on the bed. After showering, drying myself and my hair, I went back to the bedroom. On the bed was a bra and panties set and a simple but beautiful calf-length white dress with a small red floral print—all of which I’d never seen before.

Dressing, I found the bra covered as much of my cleavage as it left exposed. But it supported well. I was happy to realize my nipples did not hurt anymore. The panties, silky smooth, seemed almost modest compared to the bra. I slipped on the dress. It fit perfectly and looked wonderful. Daphne came in behind me and helped me with the last couple inches of the zipper. She told me I looked very nice and to get out and eat my breakfast—it was on the table—and not to spill anything on the dress. I returned her “Yesss” in the same whiny teenager tone.

I ate while Daphne changed. She came out just as I finished. The first thing she did was compliment me for not spilling on myself. She was wearing a simple gray knee-length dress. My dress shone like a beacon compared to hers. I suddenly felt a little self-conscious.

It was then I realized I didn’t have shoes to go with the dress. When I told Daphne this, she took my hand and dragged me toward the door, saying we were running late. I started to say something about my shoes when she pointed at a pair of strappy nude low-heeled sandals by the door. When I put them on, they fit perfectly, of course.

She rushed us out the door and soon I was driving. I asked Daphne which church she was dragging me to. It wasn’t a simple church — it was the cathedral. As we were driving, I tried to remember the last time I drove in a dress or skirt. Parking was surprisingly easy. The lot wasn’t that busy. We didn’t have far to walk, but the morning humidity felt as oppressive as usual. The cathedral was big and beautiful. I could tell we were early, very early. I asked Daphne when the service started. She said, “In an hour or so.”

“Why are we here so early?” I almost growled.

“You have something more important to do?”

I didn’t reply. As we walked to the entrance, Daphne handed me a beautiful lace mantilla.

“Really?”

She gave me a put-it-on-if-you-know-what’s-good-for-you look. I did.

When we entered the church, I noticed a man taking pictures. Then I got distracted by Daphne grabbing my arm and leading me to a pew. She dragged me to a seat where the light from a stained-glass window was hitting just behind us. I asked Daphne what we were supposed to do for an hour when she grabbed a book from the missal rack and told me to read. I noticed the man taking pictures take an interest in us. Daphne then told me sternly, as she slid down the pew to retrieve another book, “If you behave, I’ll buy you ice cream after.” I had to smile.

As we waited, we talked. I asked Daphne if she always sat at this same pew. She seemed intent on having us sit here. She gave me a look. People were starting to sit near us, so she whispered, “I might have been invisible, but I was still naked. It would be my luck to bump into you while sitting here.” I almost laughed at the image. The hour passed quickly and all the pews were filled well before the service started. I asked Daphne if it was always this crowded. She told me this was a special Mass. A visiting cardinal was here, Cardinal Sean Patrick Killegan. I had to smile because she actually seemed excited. Then she added, “Visiting from the Vatican.” I had to admit that was special.

Soon the Mass started, and it was as I remembered. When I visited my grandparents on Sunday, I attended with them. Cardinal Killegan gave a very nice homily. He really had a great voice. Soon it was over and everyone was leaving. We had sat toward the front, so we were among the last to leave. People were greeting the cardinal, a bishop, and a priest as they left. So it took a while to exit. Many people simply avoided the line.