Publish Date: May 15, 2009
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The young priest walked out of the confessional after hearing what he thought was the last confession of the day. He waited several minutes, but heard nothing before he peeked out. He saw one person, a young lady, much younger then himself which drew a grave looking expression on his face. He wanted to be done hearing all the sins of others.
He asked solemnly if she was there to confess any sins. In a pensive mood the girl with her head down, stared at the tiled floor pondering what she did knowing where she came from was as sinful as it gets. Slowly her head rose as she nodded yes, but with tear stained eyes. He told her he would listen to whatever sins she wanted to confess, but she feared anything she’d say would echo through the high ceilings of the church and be overheard by others.
“Well, would you care to tell me in the chapel instead?” he asked. “It is much quieter there and there isn’t any echo like in here” he added. His palms facing the ceiling, they separated to signify how the noise would carry with its high ceilings.
She nodded, but the grim expression still remained on her face. Not a particularly pretty girl, she wore glasses and had unusually big lips and teeth as well. She seemed scraggly and a little unkempt like hair which added to her unsightliness. He noticed her perfume. Hints of it hanging and drifting around the immediate area, Fr. Peter Martin promptly became fond of its imposing and alluring nature. That scent, enticing as it is was not something he was too familiar with. But on her it helped him and possible others overcome some of her unsightly features he thought.
So why was she guilty and what was she guilty of suddenly? Then he thought, that’s an appealing aroma. And it was. Much too appealing for a man of the cloth, he told himself as he tried, as subtly as he could, to sniff as he made sure she caught on.
“Father,” she began to say.
Her voice was so timid and it came off as that of a young and tender teenage girls. It had fluctuations and touches of a girl who could have been 15, possibly 16. But she wasn’t. He could see that. He watched her, studied her face, and her body and he surmised the young woman had to be about the same age as his sister or his two cousin. She had to be around 19 or 20 at best. He reminded himself she didn’t sound it.
“Yes, my child” the 31 year old handsome forgiving priest came back.
“I have sinned. I have…sinned horribly and I must con…confess these sins.”
She paused, looked around the chapel, and held off confessing. He told her to take her time. Still she held off. He felt she was still uncomfortable telling him her sins. He told her when she was ready and she didn’t have to rush into it she could do this at another time and if necessary, another location. Sometimes those who come to confession do not feel at ease telling their sins “out in public.”
The church and even the chapel even to her were “public” domains. Anyone could walk in on them or stop short of her confessing and hear her bleed out her heart as she told her wrong doings to their priest.
“You appear as if you are still uncomfortable telling it here in the church and chapel. Some of my parishioners are like that and I’ve suggested we do it inside at the rectory, at a table in the main room, across from one another. It allows a person to relax without the pressure of the holy domain hovering over their soul, my dear” he told her.
She looked up. Yes, she wasn’t that pretty, but she did offer what seemed to be a bit of a smile at that moment. When she looked up and smiled, slightly, he saw how the younger girls’ eyes sparkled and noticed how she could be a bit more attractive then she initially came off. He liked when she smiled. It made him feel connected to her somehow. Seeing as she was hunched over with her arms on her lower thighs, he saw nothing which defined her as pretty, but he would. He would be blessed with what god provided this young beauty soon enough.
“How does that sound, dear?” he asked.
She nodded, smiled again, and finally she sat upright. He saw one trait or two features which some boy somewhere would find highly redeeming. He tried as hard as he could. He forced himself as best as he could and he succeeded at not allowing himself to look. Sitting upright they formed solicitous, embedded, and large spheres inside in what he previously thought was an oversized sweater. It was not. It was far from it. And even though he did not look at them directly he knew he could see their large dimensions from the corner of his eyes.
Ohhh my good and forgiving lord she is endowed, he told himself. He still didn’t look.
“Yes Father…I think I would like that much better” she replied.
Before he could stand, she was on her feet and turning around. She was tall. To him she was built beautifully. He asked for forgiveness as shockingly looked at her features. There were faint chubby like qualities to her unexpectedly curvaceous frame. And he quickly looked at one- her butt. He felt euphoric like reactions assaulting him. He did not like these emotions. He closed his eyes. His body shuttered. He asked for forgiveness, again. He quivered excitedly. But when she turned and bent over to retrieve her purse he saw them after opening his eyes. He gawked at them. So round, so globular, and so defined in that tight knit sweater she had adorned that cold day. However, her butt, larger then most girls her age had an even more endearing twist to it. As he caught himself again stealing quick glances of the youthfully cheeked pair he defined hers as one fine apple shaped ass.
Forgive me lord for I have sinned. I am a sinner. I am a sinner, he again said. Emotions skyrocketed throughout his holy like body. He had to do something, he told himself. He knew he had to focus, do the lords work. Let me do your work…please allow me to do your work, lord.
But all things considered- her perfume, her breasts, and her curvaceous body which displayed slight hints of stirring chubbiness he weakened and weakened while he led her towards the rectory. She thanked him, in the youngish juvenile tone he was growing fonder of.
That along with all the other attributes and the perfume would slowly break down the pious stature bestowed upon him. From the chapel to the sacristy, the followed along a narrow corridor to one door with a small window he unlocked. She followed as he stopped to lock that one. Then walking to another door, he opened it, allowed her to go first, and they were inside the rectory’s vestibule. She looked around mentioning how nice and quiet it was. He said to her the other two priests he lived with were on retreats for the day so they would have peace and quiet while she unloaded her sins to him.
After laying down her coats, he seated her, and offered her a glass of water getting one for both of them. She watched him, admiring the nicely trim brown beard that covered his lower face. It was maintained in impeccable fashion and she believed it offered him a sense of commanding authority plus a handsome look for such a young looking priest.
After coming back, he sat, and told her when she was ready to begin. She looked down. She recounted everything she did earlier that morning and finally she broke what silence there was. Her voice again was timid and shaky, but she proceeded.
“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned… My last confession…” he heard her say, but wasn’t tuned into the introductory, standard opening lines.
He was beside himself as he envisioned her unattractive but attractive young lady’s physical features when she was standing around. He was ready to hear her sins wishing her to unload them and ask her if she was truly sorry for them. Her voice was so sweet sounding. He loved hearing her speak. Talk about anything you want to, he thought. I love that voice. Gosh it is so nice and pleasant. Fr. Martin then lifted his head and looked at her. Staring at her she began her confession.
“My boyfriend I were sitting around” she began, her eyes looking right at the table top in front of her. She was picturing the event as it unfolded. “We were talking, how much we loved each other, and then it happened.” She faltered, stuttered, and then found the courage to go on with her confession. I was sitting on the end of a bench at a park, Father. I was turned away from him while we talked. One time, a long time ago, he and I talked about having sex…about making love to one another, but we or I decided I was too scared to do that. He told me he loved me either way. And I told him I love him with all my heart, with all my heart and soul…and my body too.”
Fr. Martin was intrigued. His eyes focused on her with deep intent. He watched her, looked at her globular delights discreetly hidden beneath the bulky looking sweater, and never once did he pray for forgiveness while listening and lusting for the younger woman who actually found her attractive too.
“But as we talked about that, I felt something as if he was moving on the bench” she said.
Then she paused. She looked up, looked into his eyes, but did not notice or comprehend the expression in the slightly horny priests’ eyes. He nodded and told her to go on.
“Well as I sat with my back towards him he scooted towards me. His arms and hands, he wrapped them around me, hugging me, and holding me lovingly. He told me he loved me. He said it so quietly and tenderly that I fell backwards against him. He kissed my neck and I felt his warm breath against my neck. Father…it was so romantic” she told him. “But he felt me…felt my boobs… I’m sorry…I mean my…my breasts, Father.”
He saw a hint of gratification in her eyes when she told him. He felt his crotch tingling. He felt his penis harden. He lowered his hands as if folding them and nodding as if he wanted to try and understand the temptations. He lowered and his hands settled between his legs, between his thighs. It was becoming hard, excited, and he felt thundering pangs. His skin above his eyes developed creases. He did not like the sensations but enjoyed the unusual experiences engulfing him.
She looked up and saw the concerned and pained look in his face. She grew worried she couldn’t confess her sins; that it was too much to hear. She felt bad and stopped. She did not want to go on. Looking at realizing she may be feeling super guilty, he insisted, if she truly felt bad that she must confess. And that’s what she did.
“Father…it felt nice. No, it felt wonderful” she said. Her eyes roamed the heavens as if reliving the moment right then and there. “His hands were so gentle and so soft and loving like that I told myself I wanted more. I leaned into him some more. He let go of them. I closed my eyes and suddenly I felt them, underneath my sweater, but on top of my blouse.”
Her eyes were closed, her hands were flat on the table top, and her head was tilted towards the ceiling. But her chest appeared as if it was jutting forward in a pronounced manner. She noticed it immediately. His eyes were focused on her boobs. She looked down. She looked at him. And she looked down again. He realized what he had done. He didn’t see it, but she actually smiled. Her eyes twinkled slightly. She liked how the priest found her tits to be enticing or alluring. She never covered them up. But she remembered she still felt guilty and had to confess her sins.
“And the worst thing was when his hands were underneath…this sweater…they were on my blouse, this blouse, Father.” She crossed her arms to lift it up for Fr. Martin so he could visually see it, see her large boobs; not that she intended him to gaze upon them. “Father, when he did that, it felt…it felt” and she took a deep and exciting breath “soooo, soooo euphoric or I felt like I was in a state of euphoria.” Her eyes closed and opened. They swirled in every direction. He looked right into her face. But he was going mad inside. “I wanted more and more of that from my boyfriend Father. I wanted him to squeeze them harder….and harder…and I mean really hard. Ohhhhhh Father…Father, I wanted him to…to…to unbutton my blouse and…ohhh I can’t tell you. I shouldn’t.”
Fr. Martin knew he had to pray. He was extremely distracted by her foolish, but arousing antics. He made a point of paying closer attention to her physical features. He arched his back as if searching for moral ground. His penis was no longer only a penis. It had becoming a raging erect monster. His cock, like his thighs, throbbed wildly. With his hands placed beneath the table top, he was massaging it cock, and telling himself be strong Peter, be strong…strong. Keep god’s faith within you, beside you. He tried to tell himself, but he urged her to proceed with her story, her confession.
“And what happened then…my child” he asked, his voice wavering almost quaking.
“I…I said to him I wanted to make love and we…well we did but we didn’t. We kissed and kissed passionately. His hands, mine too groped…no hugged one another fervently, ardently Father. He told me later he loved feeling these” and she pointed to her round, wholesome, and globular treats.
Damn, he thought, I want to do that too. No, no I mustn’t think this way. Give her a penance and now! Now…just give it to her…get her out of here…before I do something I will…I will always forever regret. But Fr. Martin was quaking and quivering and he wanted to do things to her he only heard of somewhere in religious journals or something like that somewhere. He wanted to more then test whatever waters she tested, do whatever she did, and he wanted to do so, soooo unsanctimoniously that he’d throw away the bible for it. And hope this young lady would never speak a word of any possible experience again in her life.
“But as we kissed, something happened, but it wasn’t like we did it” she said in that sweet youthful downy tone. “We started to make love, but Father we never took our clothes off. He made love, we dry-sexed each other up. I wore my clothes as he pushed and pushed and pushed up and down and up and down over my…my…my vagina. And I…I orgasmed Father, but he didn’t so I…so I undid his…his…his pants, Father and” and she closed her eyes, tears streamed out, and she wept for a few seconds.
God, lord go on…go on tell me will you he thought. His mind raced, his cock was raging hard, and his hands pressed and pulled at it without her seeing them doing it at all.
Composing herself she continued. “I pulled out his…his penis, Father. It was you know…uhhhh hard? He had an ummm erection and we looked at each other and I got down on my knees and I…I uhh…” her voice trailing off. “I swallowed his erection. I put it all the way in my…my mouth and I sucked it off and he came. Cum blew from…he exploded and I swallowed every last drop. Not one drop dribbled on my sweater Father” she told him and then she erupted. She broke down. I felt guilty doing it. I felt soooo bad” she said as she began weeping again.
She was crying and crying and he sat across from her feeling his own erection. “My dear” he began as she wept, holding off a few seconds. I want you, do you know how much I want you to do those same things to me. “My dear… Suzy?” he said trying to recall her real name. She was surprised. He knew her name?
“Are you sorry, really sorry for this sin?” he asked, standing with a huge bulge in his slacks and walking around to her side of the table. She looked up, tears running down her cheeks, and never saw his erection piloting its way towards her. “Will you ever do this again…with your boyfriend? This is a sin of fornication Suzy and we must obey his commandments. You want to follow in the lords footsteps don’t you?”
She felt better. He sounded as if he was forgiving her. He sat, bulge in his pocket practically and smelled that incredible perfume. He loved it. So tempting, so alluring, and letting him believe she’d do it with him? With Father Peter Martin too what she did with her boyfriend?
“It will be okay but my dear you must do penance. I know a way you can do it. You can do prayers…or you can do service hours with me. Doing service hours with me can be an enriching and most fulfilling experience and…and I would love working by your side. You seem to be a wonderful…” and he paused a second, “and a beautiful young lady.”
Her eyes focused on the carpet when he told her. His eyes focused on her and her inconspicuous large youthful bosoms. He could “see: them. He was able to envision their true size and in her bra and nothing but her bra. He could easily picture the slight tufts of rolling flesh as it ran horizontally across her belly. Ohhhhhh yes, yes he’d think…her belly, my hands, my…my lips…ohhhhhhh yes, he’d tell himself. That soft and…and sensuous tummy and he wanted it all to himself. Feeling it, kissing its gentle layers, and adoring her body’s enticing…Stop it Peter, he said in a frustrated thought. He wanted her body especially her soft jelly like features of her figure suddenly.
“I would like that very much Father. Where, when, and what time could I do this penance you mentioned?”
He stared at her face. Along with his soft warm eyes he eased her guilt. But something happened. And he felt he needed to confess and he felt to someone other then another priest.
“We as priest, we confess to each other. I have never enjoyed that part of this calling. We go to each other to confess our sins. I bet you didn’t know this did you?” She shook her head. “Anyways, I always wish I could confess my sins to someone besides a priest… and ask for forgiveness. Like say for instance, you. I’d tell to you, my sins. I’d lay it all out there. I’d tell to you from the heart and soul and ask for forgiveness in this way? Now that’s something I would love” and he paused. “I’d adore doing that if I was able to.”
“Father…would you like to confess to me?” she asked meekly, her voice so youthful and gentle. She excited him his body’s biorhythms played head games on him. His hands, still beneath the table top, squeezed his erection firmly.
He shook his head no but looked at her and she studied his face. She told him she’d be willing to do whatever there was to be forgiven. He personally forgave her already, but gave her penance in prayer, and suggested a few service projects they could do together.
In that simple and naïve tone she again asked if he wanted to confess whatever sins bothered him. He knew better. As he argued with himself to tell her anything he knew he wouldn’t be absolved of them.
But Fr. Martin caved. He decided he’d unload the impervious, immoral, and evil thoughts and acts which ran rampantly through his mind. Father Martin wanted to at least hold her throughout his confession to seek a form of “absolution” only so he could feast his mind while hugging her burly breasts and slightly chubby figure while she was in his presence.
Behaving contritely, the “mature” and solemn but handsome priest finally caved. “Yes I believe I would like to confess my sins, but not here…not at the table. Let’s…may we sit there” pointing to the couch and chairs across the room. “I would…I’d be…I’d be more comfortable telling you but you must hold a promise. A priest can never tell another living soul what he has heard in the sanctity of a confession…never” he told her. “It is deemed holy and special and if that vow of silence is broken…then the other person who holds those secrets also…they have sinned, again. And I hold yours in the strictest of secrecy. My child, do you understand?” he said using the humblest of tones.
She nodded and stood. Walking over, he watched the apple shaped ass and his soul, his loins bled with amazing erotic reaction. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to be held by her. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry with her.
“Bless me…lord” he began. His eyes and head looked towards the heavens. “For I have sinned, sinned recently, and I ask for forgiveness.” She reached forward and touched his hands which were clasped in a prayer like manner. The other hand came forward. Now both of her demure warm hands clutched his. “These are my...” and then Fr. Martin looked at her. He looked into her eyes, through the unsightly glasses, and began to confess his recent sins.
“I have looked at…at people…women, young women, and…and I have fallen from grace. I want to be close to these…these young women. I want to hold them…in immoral ways lord. And my lord…I do not believe…I don’t believe my soul truly seeks absolution from these thoughts, these wants…these yearnings I have for the young women I have been around” and he looked up, into her eyes, into her face, and gazed upon what beauty there was or wasn’t. “Lord…I want to be with this person. I want to…ohhh lord…lord I want her to know…I want Suzy to know-”
“What?” she exclaimed. She instantly pulled her hands off his. “What… Father, what did…did you…you just say? Oh god! Ohhh…my…god” she called out.
He sat up. He looked right at the nubile 19 year old. He had to confess the sins of his heart and she wanted to hear them, hear them all she said. But he didn’t move. He watched. He waited. She was frigid with surprise. Her mouth, agape as much as she was stunned reflected her every emotion. He tried to explain.
“Suzy?” he began saying in a sedate voice. “Suzy…I am…sorry. His tone was somber and tranquilizing. His tone was remorseful. Influencing as it sounded, she was still jarred from his initial confession. “I have…I’ve no explanation. Wait…I do. I do have one.”
“What?” she wanted to know, her tone sounding like a brat or selfish young girl.
“Listening…to…you when you confessed…coerced and…and reeked havoc on my soul. I am a lost, lost man. I…I…I want what he wanted. I want what your umm…what your boyfriend has. I…I desire that too, Suzy. I am…a priest but…but I am also a man, a loving and caring person. I’m a man who like others has a heart, but has dreams and desires, and who yearns for all that a boyfriend years for.”
His voice was seductively calming. Listening to his words, his “confession,” and how he put it to her, she liked what she heard. She understood. She was not the prettiest. He was a priest. She became fond of him earlier and accommodated her and her needs. And he was a handsome, handsome man willing to take her concerns and absolve her. Then she thought how he had listened to sins of the soul, sins of the body, and he sat there never once trying to infringe upon her womanly facets ever.
“It’s okay, Father. I forgive you…I understand. I do…I really, really do.”
He nodded, but didn’t look at her. He was grateful, calmer then earlier, and no longer existed was his raging hard erection underneath the zipper of his slacks. He wished it was there, but this was better for all. He smiled, faintly, and wished she’d take his hands and hold them making him feel better.
Standing up, she said again that it was okay he told her his sins. She told him what he said would always, and she reiterated it, what he said would always remain private and between them.
“Father, I hope nothing like this ever happens to me again, but if it does can I do it with you” she added. She meant confess her sins. But he took it to mean, have sexual relations. Then she realized how she put it. “Oh no, Father uhhhh I uhh mean…I meant uhhhh…” and she was blushing and almost about to break down and cry once again when he tingled all over saying to her he understood exactly what she meant to say. “Thank you” she told him as she headed towards the front door.
But Suzy stopped and turned. She looked into the good looking bearded priests’ eyes. They were deep brown. They were soulful eyes. He was so handsome and she looked at his frame. He was built nicely too. He was in good shape. Slender with broad like shoulders, he was a sturdy looking figure, and something about him made her walk back his way.
“Thank you, Father…for everything” she said.
That tone of hers, the demure teenage sounding voice of a younger girl melted him, riveted his soul, his heart, and the tingling thundered again. His erection on its own came back. Banging and pumping rapidly it sped up his racing heart. He pinched his legs together. He quivered subtly. His neck tensed up. His blood pressure soared. He was hornier then ever. She stood within a foot of her. And he could smell the aroma of her alluring perfume permeating from her.
“You’re very welcome” he replied, his voice slightly stuttering.
And as he felt, as he sensed all the commotion overruling his logic, she made it worse. Suzy leaned in. Suzy put her arms around his waist. Suzy turned her head to the side. Suzy pressed her voluptuous chest and soft slight chubby frame against his.
“Ohhhhhhh Suzy…Suzy…yes oh yes Suzy…hold me…hold me tighter” he said quietly.
And she did. She did not freak out. She did not let go. She did not misinterpret it all. She held his body. She held it firmly. She held on to his loving and caring and understanding pious frame as if he was more then a father figure, a priest, or even a boyfriend. She held it lustfully. She wanted her priest to hold her as tightly as she was holding him.
“Hold me too Father?” she asked. “And firmly and lovingly like this?” she told him.
“I’ll do whatever you want me to…whatever you…desire Suzy. I want to do soooo…so much…” but he didn’t tell her the rest.
She understood she thought. She let go. She looked into his eyes. She took off her glasses. She raised one hand. And she rubbed the priest’s chest. Slowly, she rubbed up it. Gradually it went down to his stomach. He moaned, quietly. His head rose to look towards the ceiling. But he felt it. He felt her retiring gentle hand lowering slowly over the belt, passed his waistline, over his zipper, and feeling it. She felt his excitable euphoria. He breathed, quickly, but deeply. He breathed again and again. And he pulled her unattractiveness against him. Tighter and tighter and tighter she came. And he called out to her.
“Suuuuuzy…I…want…you…to show me…what…to…do! I am…I’m…I am horny. Show me what to do. Please…please…please Suzy?”
And smack dab in the middle of the priest’s rectory, she crossed her arms and grabbed hold of her sweater removing it off her body. Almost whispering, she told him to place his hands on them. She told him to feel them and tell her how he felt. She told him if he wanted to, to squeeze them until he discovered all the pleasure settling in his soul.
She started to unbutton her top, but he stopped her. He was afraid of what could happen. He reached up and carefully, cautiously touched one as she watched it all. She saw how he was frightened, but she noticed a great curiosity lurking in the shadows of his eyes. They close, slightly, and she’d smile brilliantly. She loved how they felt against her boobs. He cried out again as he called out her name in adoration. He wanted so much he didn’t even know it.
He felt them and felt them and pleasured in each second his hands remained atop her breasts. Even with her blouse on both took immense gratification from the intimate experience. Then out of no where he said something surprising.
“I want to experience more of this with you. I want you to see how I feel” he told her. He looked down. She looked down. She knew he was erect and horny and so excited that she caressed the raging erection again. “Ohhh Suzy…squeeze it, hold it, and I want it to be all yours if…if you do.”
“I do Father, but not here and not now. I don’t…ohhh I want to make love to you, Father” she came back. “Could I come back in an hour, two hours…uhh can I, can I?” she asked.
He nodded, kissed her on her cheek, and she kissed the priests’ lips and got dressed. She thanked him again, but he thanked her too. At the door she stopped and stared. She mouthed the words “You make me horny, Father. I want you.”
“And I want you too, Suzy…badly” he told her.
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