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Confession Ch. 01

By: phsssst



I suppose it began the night my father died. He died suddenly from a heart attack, one moment a healthy vigorous man the next graying flesh sitting on the toilet. Rather undignified, but I have since learned not uncommon. I was asleep at the time, my parents carousing rather late in the evening before returning home. My first inkling that something was amiss was hearing my mother cry. I wondered if it had been a fight, but then dismissed that thought, because although rare when they did fight, my mother gave as good as she got. I got up to find out what was going on and to give my father hell if he had hurt her some way. He had, but not in any way that I had imagined. 

There was a stranger standing in the living room and through her tears mom introduced me to my dad's doctor. I can't remember his name and I am unsure if I ever did know it, because through the open door of the bathroom I could see my father, in the light blue pajamas he always wore, unmoving. I knew instinctively he was dead and my own tears fell unhindered as I took my mother in my arms and yet ended up crying on her shoulder. I don't know who comforted who, and let me assure you there was not much comfort to be had that night. The police arrived shortly thereafter, much to my surprise, and guarded my father's body until morning when the hearse arrived to take him away to autopsy. Such are the joys of sudden death, not only the shock of loss but also the indignity of strangers throughout the house denying access to the one you have loved and lost. The next few days were a blur folding into each other as mother and I dealt with the loss. The one thing I do remember is that I held my mother in my arms as often as I could, or maybe it was she held me in hers, anyways, we bonded into a deeper love of each other, if that were possible. No, there was not anything sexual about it! 

A few weeks went by and we tried to fall back into a normal routine. I returned to school, trying to pick up where I had left off. Mother cleaned the house, cooked meals, and generally looked after me as she had before. Money was not a concern for my father had been a prudent man and financially we were well looked after. To the eye of the casual onlooker I am sure, we appeared to be functioning normally. Mother even returned to working at the hospital as a casual nurse, picking up one or two shifts a week. Life went on. But I knew better, the sobs that could be heard from behind my mother's bedroom door hurt me terribly. Being young, I just didn't know what I should do. Finally, one night in desperation I grabbed a box of Kleenex off the kitchen counter and walked into her bedroom unannounced. I took her in my arms and futilely tried to dry her cheeks. That didn't help so I lay there with her as she sobbed, trying to comfort her. When her sobs diminished, I realized she had fallen asleep. Not wishing to disturb her, I also fell asleep beside her. It became a nightly ritual, she sobbing, my holding her, falling asleep together. As time passed the sobs stopped, but my nightly visits didn't. Mom seemed more relaxed when she was within my arms.

I suppose that this would be as good a time as any to describe my Mom. About five foot five, middle thirties, unexercised body, the beginnings of middle age sag, overall she was not a very attractive woman. Her breasts sagged, her bottom too large, her thighs thick, but she was my Mom and I loved her, and better yet, she loved me. I had often wondered what my father had seen in her being a handsome man himself, and I noticed more than once how a good-looking lady's eye would follow him. But he never showed interest in another woman that I was ever aware of. Fortunately, for me, I had inherited my father's good looks, although I was shy and retiring with the fairer sex. Of course, I was eighteen when my father died.

The nights of cuddling continued until one night, as I guess could be expected, the teenage hormones, which raged through my body, got the better of me. With a hand that shook from fear, excitement and lust I cuddled a soft warm boob as she slept. My body responded to the sensation with an instant hard-on, which pressed against her backside. I thought I could get away with the excuse it had been an accident if she awoke, and I held her most of the night feeling her nipple react to my soft caress. I thought I heard her breathing change to a deeper more uneven rhythm but fell asleep myself still holding her softness in my hand. When I awoke the following morning, she was preparing breakfast and nothing was said so I assumed I had gotten away with it. Instead of paying attention in school, I daydreamed of the pillowy softness I had held in my hand the night before. 

Needless to say I waited anxiously for her to fall asleep as we snuggled the following night and when her breathing settled I again reached for the wonderful female flesh. Cuddling her breast in my hand filled me with lust for my mother as a woman and soon I began to think of other things I might do. She was wearing a nightshirt that buttoned up the front and so with great care I began unbuttoning to hear a sudden change in her breathing. It became deeper more rapid. I froze and when she didn't move I continued my slow unbuttoning until I was at her waist line. I carefully pulled the shirt to one side and once again took the soft boob in my hand feeling immediately the turgidity of her nipple. One of my fingers circled around it before two fingers rolled it gently between them. I noticed she seemed to be almost panting in her sleep. I thought myself clever in my ministrations forgetting all about any excuse I might have if she awoke. Finally, through sheer exhaustion from two nights of little sleep, I too fell asleep still holding her naked breast. The following morning I awoke with a start to find her gone from the bed. I immediately remembered the unbuttoned nightshirt and the way I had left her as I fell asleep. I lay in the bed for a few moments wondering what I should do until I realized there was nothing to do but face the music. When I entered the kitchen, she simply gave me her morning greeting and smile. Nothing was said. 

At college, I realized I had been lucky and firmly resolved not to molest my mother again. I noticed mother was wearing something different when we went to bed that night. The nightshirt was shorter and held together by two ribbon- like ties. However, my resolve was clear and with hormones held in check, and two rather sleepless nights behind me; I simply put my arms around her as she spooned against me. I started to drift off to sleep, when my mother with a shift of her shoulders changed position in her sleep, and a naked soft warm boob fell into my hand. Somehow, inadvertently, my mother's shirt had become completely undone. She sighed heavily, but seemed to continue to sleep, but now my hormones ragged, my blood seemed to race hot through my body. I shivered all over.

I was still trembling when I slid my shaky hand down over her soft belly, under her the elastic wasteband of her panties, until my fingers were deeply entwined with the silky tresses they had discovered. My penis was hard against her bottom and with a fugitive movement; I rubbed myself against her large warm buttocks. Suddenly she moved again rolling into me as she moved onto her back. My hand was forced between her now slightly parted thighs and for the first time I felt the wondrous wet, the incredible softness and the heat that seemed to be a few degrees warmer than the rest of her body. I trembled, not knowing what to do, thinking she must be dreaming of my dad, when her hand came down over the crotch of her panties holding mine in place. 

My fear peaked, I don't know what my emotions were when she began to speak, "It's okay son, just rub me gently. She rolled towards me a little more, taking my head in an encompassing arm and pulled my face into her bosom. "Suck my titties honey, it makes my pussy feel good," she cooed and with the hand that covered mine began a back and forth motion between her legs. I took a nipple into my mouth and began to suck occasionally rolling it around with my tongue; my hand took up the motion she had instigated with hers. "One moment honey," she said as she released my head and moved slightly away from me, "keep your hand there." She brought her knees up and slid her panties over her large round bottom and up her thighs to her knees. Then bringing her knees even further up slid the panties down her legs and off, throwing them casually from the bed. 

Her legs returned to their former position although I was certain that her thighs now gave me even greater access to her astonishing wetness. My hand continued the motion she had imbued. Her arm once again encircled my head, her hand in my hair drawing me to her pendulous tits. Her nipples were long and fat and she told me later aching with desire. I inhaled a nipple trying to give her pleasure, running on instinct having had no practical experience. After a little while she pulled the nipple from my mouth and with her other hand presented her other nipple for my attention. With that accomplished her hand returned over mine and with her index finger she pushed mine deep within her. What an astonishing wonderful feeling of softness, warmth, and wet. When I changed the angle of my hand to create greater penetration she said, "No dear, when you do that you're not rubbing against my clit." She again used her hand to guide mine, while I thought,

'Clit, what's a clit and where is it, what's it do and how do I help?' Then I realized she had given me a wonderful opening and I asked, "Mother will you teach me how to make love to you like a man loves a woman?" 

She lay there for a few minutes, breathing heavily, obviously enjoying my feeble attempts to make love to her. Then replied, "Wait here a moment, there are some things I want to get." She left the bed, I could barely see her large bum flex as she left the room. It was then with a certain amount of trepidation, I took my pajamas off. In a moment, she was back and I realized she was carrying the two large candles that were always on the dinning-room table. She placed one on the night table to her side of the bed, lit it, and then rounding the bed placed the second on my night table. As soon as it was lit to her satisfaction, I was now able to see her large sagging breasts. They were beautiful to my eyes in the flickering glow of the candle light. She returned to the bed but to my surprise lay with her head to the foot of the bed. She asked me to pass her pillows. I passed her two, then a third as she adjusted her self so she could look down her body and see, what I understand now to be an extremely hairy muff. Once satisfied she spread her legs and asked me to get between them. When I knelt between them, I saw fully exposed for the first time a woman's cunt, lit by the flickering golden glow of soft candle light. It was an erotic sight, the glistening of her preparatory moisture on thighs and lips further enhanced the poignancy of the moment. She slid her hands over her belly and with a finger on either side, covering her hairiness, spread her labia wide showing me her rose petal pink interior. 

A sudden whiff of scent pervaded me. Strong, intoxicating, compelling, I leaned forward trying to inhale more of the brain-numbing odor. Suddenly I wanted to kiss the source of that tantalizing smell emanating from her gash. But I hesitated fearful she would find me gross lapping at her sex. What if I didn't like the taste? How could I retreat with out insulting her? These fears froze me and she began to talk not as a lover but with more of a mother/ teacher tone of voice. She allowed her labia to close and pointed with each finger to the creases formed where her legs joined her torso. She explained how ticklish she was there, how it was a sexual kind of ticklishness, which would make her stomach and pussy quiver. Mom moved on to her anus explaining how she liked to be gently rubbed there and in the throws of passion penetrated slightly with a finger. She showed me her perineum, the soft hair covered skin between her pussy and her anus explaining when to touch her there. Perineum, I had never heard the word before. She drew my attention to the plump folds of her outer labia covered in her soft pubic hair telling me how much she liked having the area gently massaged to build her sexual tension. Once again she used her fingers to pull her outer labia apart exposing the inner darker pinky brown raggedy flaps that still hid her inner sanctum. She told me how much she loved to have them fondled and titillated, licked and sucked, allaying my first fear that she would be grossed out if I kissed her there. Finally, she pulled apart her sexy flaps to show her rosy pink interior once again. She pointed out her urethra dispelling my naive conception that some how her vagina was involved in elimination.

"Now for the very best part" she said, where upon her fingers went to the top of her labia and pulled apart the area that stuck out were they came together. There amongst the hair and fleshy flap lay a little pearl of exquisite daintiness, a tiny knob of moisture-covered flesh that she announced with pride was her clitoris. This she declared was her source of pleasure always to be licked, touched, and stimulated any way imaginable as long as love came with the stimulation. I remember her emphasizing the word love. Her final act was to slip her finger deep within her virginal sheath, withdraw it glistening with moisture in the soft candle light, and slip it into her mouth. It shocked me and yet answered another question as to whether or not I might be able to enjoy her exudate.

"Kiss me honey," she said and I moved up her body to give her a soft gentle kiss. Her mouth opened beneath mine so I emulated her and her soft wondrous tongue filled my mouth with just a hint of the flavor of her exudate lingering. More boldly my hand returned between her thighs, my index finger found her anus and rubbed it gently before dragging over my new found word and entering the sticky wetness that I was so curious about. Careful to include her clit I began the back and forth motion that would bring sexual satisfaction. Her pubes pushed against my finger one now deep in her sheath while the others massaged her outer puffiness. I was always mindful to maintain friction on her clit. She broke our kiss, her breathing heavy, and pulled my head to her tits. I latched onto the nearest nipple and suckled like a child. Her moans of appreciation encouraged me. She began to pant. I asked her to lift her ass and I slid my other hand beneath her, forefinger finding her anus as she settled back on the flat of my hand. Now with one finger stimulating her ass and another, her clit, her moans changed to a guttural growl whose pitch increased with her sexual tensity. With each stroke of finger she became more vocal until with a climatic shudder she shivered out her orgasm, her throat raw with sound. 

"I'm sorry dear, I should've warned you, I'm very noisy when I'm enjoying a good cum." She smiled at me and made a motion as if to pull her nipple from my mouth. Not wanting to let go I shook my head negatively and mmmmmmmed my appreciation of her tender flesh as I scooted forward reestablishing my mouth around her nipple, until I was firmly attached to her tit. 

"You haven't changed a bit" she announced, "you were just the same when you were a baby." She told me how, as a baby I had continued to play with her nipple long after I was finished feeding. If she began to pull away, I apparently would begin to suckle again as though I wanted to feed. As soon as I was confident she wasn't going to take my comfort away from me I would go back to playing only to repeat the process if she moved. 

"You latched on hard when you suckled on my teat and sent such delicious sensations to my pussy I enjoyed feeding you. After awhile I began to touch myself down there while you fed. Until finally, one night, while you suckled for your nourishment I slipped a finger over my clit and stimulated it to orgasm. After that, it was easy to do again and again and I began to wear a robe when I fed you so that we both had easy access to our satisfaction. Your father caught on and once while I was feeding you, he pulled my bum to the edge of the chair, sat and sucked on my clit while you sucked on my tit. It was the most loving erotic experience of my life. I felt as though I was giving nourishment to the two people I loved most in life, as the two of you drank my body's fluids. I think you were both surprised at how much noise I was making when I came. I wouldn't let him do it again because I was unsure of how I felt about involving you in our sexual union. I have often regretted my decision, after all just how did you come about in the first place. However, he accepted my decision. I think he kind of agreed with me.

But from that time on, he took an interest in my lactating teats sucking them dry every night after you were finished. I was soon producing huge amounts of milk my tits distended with fluid becoming extremely sensitive just before I'd feed you. Often aching in need of being emptied. I woouldn't let him touch me until you had your turn. One night my teats dripping, needing to be emptied he told me he'd show me away to take my mind off my teats. He lay on his back his dick rampant and invited me to mount him. I knew he had chosen that position because he didn't want to press against my breasts, possibly causing me further distress. I mounted him and soon felt an orgasm coming on, my tits dripping on his chest. With the first orgasmic seizure, I squirted milk all over him with tinier squirts following as my seizures diminished. I burst into giggles causing further drippings. He loved it and we repeated that loving many times. But enough of reminiscing, I did love your father so, I think you need some satisfaction"

Pulling her teat forcefully from my mouth she slid down my body and engulfed my cock in her warm wet mouth. Soon I could feel her saliva sliding down my dick and she used her hand to rub it into my shaft. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked strongly. It was terrific, bringing about my orgasmic spew in a matter of moments. She then kissed me again tasting strongly of my virginal spend. I was reminded how much I liked her own sexual stink and this time reached between her thighs, while we continued to kiss, to probe her deeply with two fingers. I bent them slightly, tried to scoop out her moisture, and then, breaking the kiss, brought them to my nose. If anything, the strong pungent scent was more wondrous than my first experience. My head dizzy with lust I sucked them into my mouth and found to my joy, I loved the taste. Although certainly answering the promise the heady scent suggested, I found the flavor milder, sweeter, possibly more delicate, although I hesitate to use the word delicate because the taste was even more compelling, intoxicating, and addictive than the scent. Mom pulled my fingers from my mouth and replaced them with her tongue. It swirled through my mouth and I realized it was searching for a taste of her sweet self.

I broke the kiss wanting to go to the source of her ambrosia. Kissing my way down between her floppy tits over her rounded belly and through the forest of pubic hair, I soon found the genesis of what was to become my life long addiction. First I inhaled deeply filling my nostrils with her redolence, savoring her fragrance, anticipating her flavor. Then I slid my tongue through her raggedy flesh and tasted her elixir straight from the fountain of its making. Overwhelming lust pervaded me, my mind befuddled with need, while I sought a comfortable position. First by trying to lay between her legs, then pushing her legs up high. She helped by holding her thighs against her tits, exposing herself as completely as she could. I licked her perineum, and then in my lust stabbed her in her asshole with my tongue eliciting a squeal of delight. I sucked heavily on her raggedy labia and finally still unsatisfied I jumped from the bed and dragged her bum to the edge. As I knelt on the floor, I beheld the source of my delight once more in the flickering soft candle light. Little shadows jumping, droplets of moisture sparkled in the light. I brought her legs over my shoulders, her inner thighs warming my ears, as I slid my tongue deep into the warm embrace of her sexy folds. Her honey, coated my tongue with her pungent flavor. Her body began the age old hump of love bruising my lips with the force of her desire. Her moans of delight enflamed my own passions as I drove deep seeking all of her juice. Soon her hips were thrashing so hard I just kept my tongue flat. She pulled my head hard against her cunt holding me in place as she kneaded her clit against my nose and tongue. Her moans turned to a guttural, raspy, scream deep in her throat as she shuddered out her orgasmic seizures, smearing my tongue with her delicious cum. 


Confession Ch. 01



Part 1 – Introduction

I shifted in the pew to see Father Damian better.

He stood at the lectern; his homily had just ended. It had been quite good. I wasn't bored, and even my mother's eyes didn't have their characteristic at-church-glaze-over. My father looked impressed and pleased. Father Damian said a prayer – and silence filled the church as everyone bowed their heads. I didn't bow mine, but took the opportunity to get a good look at our new priest...and when his eyes found mine he didn't look away. Of course I blushed and looked down, quickly.

When I looked back up he was still looking at me. He smiled a little and winked – ever so quickly, almost imperceptably – and then looked away and began to recite the next part of mass.

Did he really just wink at me? I looked down at my feet, my breathing sped up substantially. I was ashamed to realize that I was wet, down there, and peered slightly at the people around me. As if they could tell. Of course they couldn't. But, I reasoned, he was rather good-looking...he was about my father's height, late 20s or early 30s, with slightly darker skin than the rest of my primarily white congregation. He had just a hint of dark stubble on his face, and his black hair stood up a bit in the back. And his eyes – the reason for my stupid, blushing schoolgirl reaction – were a vivid, dark green. Like intense green.

I excused myself and went to the bathroom until I was more composed.

We all filed out of the worship space at the end of mass and everybody went, en masse, so to speak, to the community room for donuts. I found some of my girlfriends and grabbed our usual table. We were the nice girls – the ones always on mission trips, on retreats, at the forefront of the youth group activities. So it took a while for anyone to mention Father Damian's good looks, but eventually Tara said, almost whispering,

"He's pretty handsome too, isn't he?" she immediately blushed.

I was comforted a little that my reaction wasn't isolated, but still weirdly defensive about it all. "I guess," I said, "If you like old guys. He could be your dad."

"No way. He's too young." Tara looked injured. We usually agreed on everything.

I shrugged and changed the subject. "Have you guys signed up for JFest yet? The forms are up."

There was quite a bit of buzz about that, and, for the time being at least, Father Damian was forgotten. JesusFest was like church, a sleepover, and a school dance all in one. It was where we hung out and read scripture and sang songs and told secrets and met good Catholic boys. For once we were the cool kids at Jfest; we were the girls everyone wanted to talk to, and the ones the boys held hands with. It was church kid mecca. We immediately begin making carpooling plans.

At home that night, in bed, I caved in and broke my two-week streak of being good. I touched my pussy lips cautiously, and they were warm and wet and hungry so I couldn't help myself. I stroked my labia, gently, and circled the area around my button over and over and over. I didn't touch it. I always saved that for the end. Just circling, and writhing, and thinking of Father Damian and how I felt when he stared at me. That wink – and I felt dirty, because that was such a fatherly gesture. But it set me over the edge and I rubbed my clit and arched my back and gasped into the darkness as I came.

Part 2 – Confession

Every church in the diocese sent a priest up for Good Friday. Our church was the biggest – our Lady of Lourdes – and we needed help to manage the throngs of sinners hoping to purify themselves before Easter. My eyes were red and puffy...Father Damian had given the most brutal homily I had ever heard. It was an in-depth description of crucifixion, of the torture, of the slow and horrible death of Jesus. I was so penitent. I was ready to cleanse myself of these horrible desires. And who better than to confess to than the source of them, I reasoned. I needed to confront this. I had been clutching onto that single memory – of Father Damian staring (no, just looking) at me the first week – for almost three weeks. I had touched myself every single night. I still hadn't violated myself with my fingers, but I was getting close to not caring. This had to be fixed, somehow.

Because there were so many priests, they set themselves up in stations around the worship space. There was a line leading to each priest, and a suitable amount of space and privacy for each confessor. Father Damian's station was actually inside the sacristy, the back room of the church, the line stretching around the side of the altar. I hurried as much as I could, but I still found myself towards the back of the line. I had a long wait. 

The closer I got, the more nervous I was.

And somehow, my pussy was getting wet again. I hung my head in shame, and my cheeks burned.

It was my turn. I walked slowly into the sacristy and sat down. It was disorganized, yet seemed like someone had tried hastily to clean it up. There were banners from lent, a broken pew, assorted stage props from stations of the cross. Father Damian sat in a simple folding chair with his back to the door, and I sat down gingerly in the chair opposite of him.

I shakily said hello and crossed myself. Father Damian smiled warmly at me, and rattled off, "May the Lord be in your heart and help you to confess your sins with true sorrow. How long has it been since your last confession?" His eyes were so green. It was too much.

"About a month."

"Okay. Tell me your sins."

"I cheated a little on a math test. And I stole $20 out of my dad's wallet." I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. This was probably a horrible idea. But I had to come clean. "And...Father, I have been touching myself. Every night." I flushed. "I haven't penetrated myself yet...but I want to. I don't know how to stop."

He paused. For too long. And looked deep in my eyes, his face gentle. When he spoke, he almost whispered. "Yes, that is a sin." He leaned back. "But it is not such a horrible one. Don't cry."

I didn't realize I had been crying. I wiped my eyes.

He leaned forward again and continued, never looking away from my eyes. "God designed our bodies...lovingly, carefully. He put these desires inside of you that one day you may have children. They, by themselves, are not sinful desires." He still had not looked away, and he dropped his voice almost to a whisper again. "It is acting on them that is a sin. But that is what confession is for, my sweet girl. None of us pass muster in the great question of being worthy for God. Not a single one of us. This is why confession is such a grace." He put his hand gently on my knee. "Have you considered coming to confession weekly?"

I was suddenly much, much more wet. I swallowed. "Yes, I have, but school makes me so busy..." I paused to consider it. "But I think you're right. I think I should."

He patted my knee and removed his hand. "Think on it. I am in the small chapel every Friday...one of the things we must learn to do as we grow in our faith is to forgive ourselves for our weaknesses. I could tell you what you already know...that this is a sin and that you should stop." He paused and looked in my eyes. He licked his lips, and slowly looked at me from head to toe before continuing. "But I know you won't." His voice was lower, slightly husky, his eyes once again caressing mine.

He sat up quickly and cleared his throat. "And you are forgiven. I absolve you of this and all other sins in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

I mumbled thank you and stood awkwardly to get up. He lazily leaned back over his chair and said, "I've seen you with the other youth group kids. What's your name?"

My breath catched. "Emily."

He smiled warmly again. "Nice to meet you Emily."

As I walked away I got the feeling he was watching me. But I was too nervous too look behind me and check.

Part 3 – Exploration

I didn't even say goodnight to my parents. I just went upstairs and quietly shut the door. Luckily mom believed in privacy back then, so I had no explaining to do.

Two things were significant, and buzzing around in my mind: the first, that I had basically been given a Catholic Church-sponsored green light to pleasure myself as much as I wanted, as long as I went to confession. Second: maybe I was imagining it (I probably was) but Father Damian seemed to be flirting with me.

I never thought to second-guess Father Damian or doubt his intentions. Priests are men of God. And if this one said I could orgasm and be forgiven, then that is exactly what I was going to do, no more questions asked. I removed my white, flowy church skirt...and gazed in the mirror.

I never thought I was pretty growing up. I wasn't skinny like the popular girls, but my hair always attracted attention. It was a bright, sunflower blonde, and it was thick and curly. My skin was pale, and my hips were ample and my breasts hung lazily, and were soft and round. I was jealous of the perky, small tits that the other girls had...but in this moment, I allowed myself to love my body just a little. I was about to make it feel really, really good. I slipped off my panties, and after a few seconds, took off my shirt, too, and crawled into bed.

I licked my fingers and began. Slowly. It was always better if I started slow. I slowly plucked at my labia, and lightly ran my fingers up my sides. I stroked my breasts and I tweaked my nipples. I ran my fingers back down, shivering with goosebumps at the feeling of my fingers barely grazing my sides.

I licked my fingers again. Slowly, sensually, loving them.

I circled around my slowly swelling clitoris with my forefinger and my thumb. I dipped into my pussy just barely for lubrication, the sweet, musty scent now beginning to reach my nostrils. I was so wet already. It was so easy.

I rubbed around and around and around and around my clit until I began to feel the hints of my orgasm creep up, and then I stopped. I used to stop right here, for the past two years of my life. But when I finally let myself come, there was no turning back.

I stopped myself three times, and worked myself back up again. I just kept thinking of Father Damian's eyes – so bright green – and his hand on my thigh. Stop. 

The way he slowly looked me up and down. Stop. 

That...that wink, like he knew about my wet pussy. Stop. 

The darkness in his eyes when he said... "but I know you won't – "

I plunged a finger into my pussy and nearly died from the pleasure. 

And I immediately knew that, again, there would be no turning back. This is what I was doing now, forever.

I fucked myself with my hand, gasping, quietly moaning, and my skin tightened and twisted and I spiraled out of control into the most intense orgasm I had ever had.

I lay there, and I had never been drunk, but that's the adjective that floated into my mind. The air was thick and sweet with the smell of my pussy. I wiped my hands clean on my Hello Kitty bedspread and sighed...deeply, slowly, contentedly.

Then I licked my fingers and I did it again.

Part 4 – The Chapel

"Hey Heather!"

My friend from youth group turned around quickly, the strap of her violin hugging her chest between her breasts, which outlined them perfectly. I blushed and wondered why I kept looking. I felt shame creep up, but shook it off quickly. I had to get a ride somehow. Her mom was the liturgical minister so she was always at Our Lady of Lourdes.

"I was just wondering if I could catch a ride with you to OLL after school? I think I'm gonna go to confession." I shifted my backpack awkwardly, nervous she would question my sudden piety. She didn't know how sinful I really was. She didn't need to know. 

Heather just smiled brightly. "Yeah sure! That's a great idea. I keep meaning to go every week but I have so much homework with these AP Classes...I usually need some more study hall when I'm at church."

I smiled back. "I think God would approve. We have to use our talents to glorify him, right?"

"Right!" She looked up at the clock. "Hey gotta go to dorkestra. Meet me at the flagpole?"

"Yeah! Thanks!" And just like that I felt a flash of heat in my pussy. Confession...

When we arrived at the church I was surprised to see that almost no one was there. I always figured that weekly confession (held from 2-4) would be popular with the elderly churchgoers. Maybe they had come and gone already. It was 3:30 and I hoped that Father Damian hadn't closed up shop.

The chapel was small, with about 10 pews, a small lectern at the front, and a statue of Mary on the side. A wall of flickering candles for prayerful intentions was behind her, and around me, stained glass windows depicting the stations of the cross. Father Damian was in the front pew, stretched lazily with his feet far out and his arms resting on the back of the pew. His eyes were shut.

I felt nervous. Should I go? I cleared my throat. "Father...?"

He lazily turned around and smiled when he recognized me. "Emily. Come sit down."

I walked around the pews and sat down beside him, slowly. He chuckled a little.

"Never been to confession in the chapel before?" He leaned over, his eyes lingering on the low-but-not-too-low cut of my shirt. "The confessor usually sits in the pew behind. But I like this better." He flashed me a smile and signed the cross over me. "May the Lord be in your heart and help you to confess your sins with true sorrow. How long has it been since your last confession?"

"Seven days."

"Tell me your sins."

I exhaled, slowly. He was wearing jeans, I realized belatedly. Tight, sexy, slightly faded jeans, with a tucked-in black button down shirt and his priest collar. It suited him.

"I have been good...in most things...because I haven't had much time to mess it up." I shrugged. "But I have...touched myself..." I looked down, "To orgasm...sixteen times since my last confession." I did not look up, and he did not say anything, so I slowly raised my eyes up from the floor and met his. He exhaled, almost as if he had been holding his breath.

"Sixteen?"

My face was burning hot. Maybe I misunderstood him before. Maybe this was not okay. Shame quickly and violently shot through my gut. I nodded, full of sorrow. "Yes, father."

He stroked his chin and his eyes were laughing. "It's good to delight in God's forgiveness, isn't it?"

The relief was like cold water over my red-hot shame. I bit my lip and looked up at him gratefully. "Yes, it is."

He gently put his hand on my knee, just like last time. "And you are forgiven. I absolve you of this and all other sins in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen." His eyes looked directly into mine, and I felt a surge wetness in my panties.

I was hooked.

I went to confession regularly for the next three weeks, and every time it was the same. Every time I confessed to touching myself, and every time Father Damian absolved me of my sins and made my panties wet.

I wore my best, most flattering clothing to confession. On the fourth week I wore a sundress – a light purple and white one, that cinched my waist and flowed out. It went down to just above my knees. It was the most skin I had shown, but it was also getting very warm outside. That day was in the eighties, I reasoned, so a sundress was a reasonable choice for church.

I went in to the chapel again, and as usual, Father Damian was waiting for me. He heard me come in and turned around to greet me. "Hello, Emily..." he said, his eyes slowly drifting up my legs, lingering at the hemline, lingering at my breasts, and finally meeting my face. He did not even try to contain the lustful expression on his face. "You look nice today." He cleared his throat. "Come sit."

I came and sat, smoothing my dress before I sat down. I almost crossed my legs but instead held them together at the knees. We looked at each other.

I smiled, slowly, awkwardly. "Um...it's been seven days from my last confession."

He belatedly signed the cross over me. "Yes. Tell me your sins."

"I have touched myself to orgasm twenty two times since my last confession." I looked directly in his eyes and bit my lip. I don't know why, but I was beginning to get nervous. This was becoming very real, very fast.

He put his arm around the pew behind me and moved closer, like we were conspiritors, and leaned in very, very closely, and whispered in my ear. His lips were so close they brushed against my earlobe. I felt his breath on my neck – and it made my pussy actually clench with desire.

"Have you fingered yourself yet, you sweet, naughty girl?"

I paused, shocked, aroused, my stomach in knots. He leaned back, but not too far, and did not raise his voice above a whisper. "You mentioned on Good Friday it was a temptation that you were struggling with."

"Yes, father."

His eyes seemed...hooded. "Yes what?"

"Yes, father, I have fingered myself."

His eyes closed, and he drank in my answer.

"Do you lick your fingers? Do you taste yourself?"

"Yes." He began to play with my hair.

"Do you like the taste?"

I swallowed. "Yes."

"What do you think of?" His hand drifted to my neck, and he began to rub out the building tension there, teasing my hair, looking at me, intently.

I looked right into his eyes, and said it slowly. "Confession."

It happened very, very fast. Faster than I had hoped.

Father Damian leaned in and kissed me. Lightly, gently, teasing my lip, then faster, harder, more passionately, running one hand through my hair and the other clutching my hip.

I moaned.

He grabbed both of my hips and forcefully moved me onto his lap, and I straddled him on the pew, one knee on each side of his waist. We continued to kiss as his hands moved up my dress and cupped my bottom. I could feel him through his jeans, very hard, very big, very thick, and pressed against my white cotton panties. He kneaded my cheeks as he continued to kiss me, with tongue now. I had only ever kissed one boy before, Kevin Sloderbeck, at my 18th birthday party, and this sensual onslaught was paralyzing. I pressed against him and let him mold me like putty, his tongue masterfully caressing mine...and I broke the kiss, breathing heavily.

"Wait." I leaned in and whispered his ear. "Father...I'm a virgin."

He moved his hands lower down my thighs and clutched them, possessively.

"I know, my sweet girl, I know. I'm not going to take anything that isn't mine."

I sighed with relief, and then whispered, "Will God forgive us?"

He pushed his hips upward so that his cock was pressing hard against his jeans, against my panties, against the entrance to my pussy. "Yes, my child. Yes, he will." He caught my mouth again and kissed me, hard, and I saw stars. "We all delight in God's grace." He moved me up a few inches and stroked the outside of my panties. I heard him gasp as he felt the soaking wet fabric, and Father Damian immediately stuck a finger up my slit for confirmation.

I moaned and arched my back.

Father Damian slowly pumped two fingers in and out of my slick, hot pussy, rubbing my clitoris with his thumb. Over and over and over, slowly, kissing my mouth, nibbling my bottom lip. He fingered me faster, and moved his fingertips relentlessly against the back of my pussy. I heard the word slip out of his mouth.

"Fuck."

I unraveled – ignited – exploded – into a million pieces, my world shattering around me as I came on Father Damian's hand.

My head slumped on his shoulder as I caught my breath, and he drew his fingers out of my pussy. He put them in front of my face.

"Taste yourself, Emily."

My lips closed around his fingers and I sucked and licked all of my juices clean. I lingered on them for some reason. No, not some reason, I knew exactly why: I wished his fingers were his cock. I wanted that in my mouth.




Confession Ch. 01



He smoothed my hair and guided me down beside him. He kissed me, chastely.

"No more today. I am being tempted into far greater sin right now" – he gazed at my lips – "and I think it is time for you to go, right?"

I followed his gaze to the cell phone sticking out of my purse. 4:32. Heather and her mom would be looking for me any minute now.

"Sh-ooot." I shot up – straightened my dress, messed with my hair, grabbed my purse. I spun around to look at Father Damian and the bulge in his pants made me gasp. This was the first I had seen (or at least noticed) it.

Were all men that big?

He stood up too, grasped me by the waist, and kissed me hard. "Come back next week."

I stared at him. "I can't. Next week is Jfest."

He smiled darkly. "That's right, I forgot. I'm a chaperone." He leaned forward and bit my lip. "Go. Hurry."

I scurried out of the chapel. I reached the doorway when Father Damian said, "Emily. One more thing."

I spun around. "Yes?"

"This is a sacred commandment...what is shared within the bounds of the sacrament of confession must never be shared." He smiled at me warmly, but his eyes were very serious as he signed the cross. "And you are forgiven. I absolve you of this and all other sins in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

I crossed myself. "Amen."



Confession Ch. 01



I was enjoying, if that's what one can call it, another ritualistic Saturday morning. My coffee cup was filled with Starbucks, a donut rested on a napkin on my kitchen table, Sportscenter played in the background and I was thumbing through the local alternative paper much too early for a late 20's, healthy and virile male that should have be sleeping soundly after another late night of fun rather than taking on the persona of a man more than twice his age. 

My life at that time had become very boring. Too much focus on my career had left me in life limbo. I was too old to really enjoy the bar scene, and I wasn't making enough money nor did I have the aura around me to make it work at the nicer clubs and restaurants in the area. The few friends I had were beginning to settle down, so their weekends were committed either to kids or future wives. I hadn't had a serious relationship in years and my dating life was pretty much a constant stream of speed dates. As sad as it was, the weekends had become nothing more than time I had to kill before I could get back to the office and focus on building my career. 

I flipped through the pages of the paper. The schedule of local concerts, check. Dan Savage's advice column, check. Naive letters to the editor, check. I read through all of those column inches to help me rationalize my true intentions; I had picked up that newspaper to read through those last couple pages that promised lots of adult fun. As of that time; however, I had yet to act upon any of that promise. 

Don't get me wrong, I did not lack for an amazing sexual imagination. Even my weekdays were filled with multiple masturbation sessions prompted by rabid reading of various erotic literature sites. The internet was still new at that time, and I routinely started my day with a quick review of new postings on my favorite sites; Richard's Realm, Ann Douglas's homepage and Nifty Archive. For a boy that didn't start to masturbate until he was 21 and didn't lose his virginity for another two years, lots of masturbation had given me an advanced degree in understanding my body. 

Oddly enough for that same 28 year old "boy," erotic literature turned me on much more than naked pictures. Even as a youth, Penthouse letters elicited a more acute erection than the pictures within the magazine. The advent of the internet allowed me to revel in my desire for erotic stimulation pretty much whenever and wherever I wanted. A picture or a porn dvd just couldn't match my imagination, and an explosion in masturbation soon followed. 

Solo fun only can get one so far, though. It had been years since I'd been intimate with anyone, and I was craving touch. My right hand was a poor substitute for the soft skin of a woman's hands or lips. This was the day I decided to act upon my need. 

One of the ads promised an erotic body rub. I liked the sounds of that. There were others that offered sex, but I wasn't quite ready to pull the escort trigger. That would have to wait. No, an erotic body rub was just what I needed. I collected my thoughts, took a deep breath, paced back-and-forth in my kitchen as I stared at the phone and finally worked up the courage to the call the number in the ad. It went straight to voice mail; damn! If the advertiser knew how nervous I was, if she knew how much courage it took me to make that call, she'd punish herself for putting me through such agony. I left a message and went back to my coffee and donut. 

A few hours later, the phone rang. 

"Is Justin there," a female voice said very matter-of-factly. Shit, I hope it wasn't a bill collector or telemarketer. 

"This is."

"This is Sarah, you left a message for me a few hours ago." My mouth went dry. My stomach turned over. I actually felt like I was going to get sick. The moment of truth was upon me. 

"Hello. Yes, I...I...I saw your ad in the paper. I'm sorry. I've never done this before."

"Would you like a body rub?"

"I would."

"How is your schedule this afternoon?" This was my first time, but it clearly wasn't for her. 

"I'm free all day."

She asked me a few questions. My age? What I looked like? What I did for fun? We talked for maybe 2 or three minutes and then she asked, "How's 3:00 PM work for you?"

"Not a problem."

She gave me the address of the hotel where she was taking appointments and told me to knock on the door at 3:00, no earlier,no later. 

I hung up the phone and looked at the clock, 1:15. I had some time to kill before I left. It was then that I started to have second thoughts. What if she were a cop? What if she had a pimp? What if she had a gun? The questions running through my head had my heart beating at an accelerated rate. It's not as if I could call one of my friends and tell them if they never heard from my again it's because I was killed by a pimp. Still, for my boring life, there was an undeniable thrill I simply had to realize. 

I made the trip to her hotel. It was off the highway at the outskirts of a smaller suburb, ironically enough, not too far from my house. The hotel really was a motel. Doors opened to the outside rather than a hallway. I'd driven by that particular motel a thousand times to and from work; I never drove by it the same way again. 

I entered the parking lot and drove around the entire hotel once. I was much more nervous about a sting than a pimp. A pimp only would take my money; the police would ruin my career...my life. There only were a couple cars in the parking lot, and I saw no signs of a police presence. I parked, swallowed hard and walked to her room. 

My stomach was in knots as I lightly tapped on the door. My hands were sweating, my heart was racing. I hadn't felt that way since my college sports days. Adrenaline was racing through my body. If there were a pimp on the other side of the door, he would have had a helluva time controlling me. 

The door slowly opened. She stood behind it and whispered that I should come in. All of the blinds had been drawn. A dozen or so tea lights provided the only light for the room. She closed the door, locked it and turned to face me. 

I put her in early 30's. She had sandy blond hair down to the middle of her back, wore little make up and just the slightest bit of perfume. Her smallish chest was covered with a bikini top, her bottom a wrap around skirt. I gave her a 7 in looks. She had the look of trailer court queen. She wasn't as refined as the women in my fantasies, but I wouldn't have been worried about being seen with her in public. I simply stared at her; I didn't know what to do. 

"Do you have something for me?" she asked. 

"Pardon me?"

"Do you have my donation?"

"Oh, yes, sorry. Where should I put it?

"Just put it on the TV and then take off your clothes."

I was so nervous I was shaking. I actually think she was laughing to herself, just a bit. Similar to my girlfriend that took my virginity, I think she also relished in the knowledge that she was going to be my first, albeit a much different first. I took off my shirt, my shoes and my pants. I was still in very good shape from my college sports days, and her eyes lit up when she saw the definition in my chest and the thickness of my legs. I left on my boxer briefs, because my cock had shriveled up to the size of an acorn. I didn't want to embarrass myself too much. She told me to lie face down on the towel on the bed and relax. Easier said than done. 

I could feel the heat of her body as she knelt beside me. She poured some oil on my back and slid her hand across my shoulder blades. It had been so long; her touch was amazing. She dragged the tips of her fingers across my back and down my arms. My nervousness soon turned into goosebumps. She finally could see the tension leave my body. 

She settled in between my legs and ran her hands down my hamstrings and over my calves. She lightly rubbed my feet; a first for me. Her fingers slid between my toes, and I began to feel a tingling in my cock. I was still shriveled, but there finally was life in my shorts. 

Her hands climbed up my thighs, she leaned over my back and whispered in my ear that she wanted to help me take off my briefs. I shook me head and raised my hips just a bit. Her fingers worked their way inside the waist band, and she slowly pulled them down my legs. I now lay on my chest, legs spread, covered in oil waiting for her touch. 

It was then that I experienced another first. She poured oil on my lower back and traced its flow down through the crack of my ass. Her hands cupped my ass and massaged my buttocks. I'd had plenty of massages in my life but never had received anything like that. I couldn't believe the strength in her hands nor how good her hands felt. Blood was now racing into my cock. 

She pushed my legs further apart and ran her hands up and down the crack of my ass. Worries that I was gay because I enjoyed that stimulation ran through my head. I quickly started to understand why gay men enjoyed someone toying with their ass. Her fingers probed my opening, and I moaned. I'm sure she was smiling to herself as I let her have her way with me. 

Her fingers continued to circle around my rosebud and my cock began to stiffen. She penetrated me with one finger and drug her fingernails across my balls with the other. My cock now was so hard it hurt. I was aching for more of her touch. I raised up on my hands and knees and her hand snaked between my legs and found my shaft. She sighed when she wrapped her hand around my stiffness. 

Here I was in a highway motel, on my hands and knees, my chest on the bed, my ass in the air and a strange woman with a finger in my ass and a hand wrapped around my cock. I'd fantasized about a lot of things, but this position was never one of them. It didn't really matter, though. It felt too good to complain. 

I tilted my head and looked down as she stroked my cock. Her hands looked so small wrapped around my engorged cock. My head was purple it was so full of blood; it almost looked angry. She started to finger fuck my ass as she quickened the stroking of my cock. And as fast as I started to buck my hips, my cum exploded on the towel she had laid down for me. 

I collapsed on the same towel on which I had just had one of my greatest orgasms. She may have been talking to me, but I can't recall. There was a euphoria I was feeling as she lightly tracked her fingers down my back. She leaned forward, kissed my cheek and asked me if I'd had a good time. 

"Holy Shit," was all I could mutter. 

"You have a nice ass," she told me. "I liked exploring it." I think I could hear a smile on her face as she said that. 

"I've never experience that. That may have been the most explosive orgasm I've ever had."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. You're welcome to call me anytime," she whispered to me. 

I laid there for a few more minutes collecting my thoughts before I slowly got dressed. I would have loved to have known what she was thinking when she watched me dress. Did she know she'd just put me on a path I'd never known existed? Did she know how much joy she had just given me? Did she think I was a shitty male paying for her sexual services? 

I contemplated these and many other things as I drove home. I alternated between hating myself for searching out her services and loving the touch I had been so desperately missing. I had felt sick in my stomach, yet the only thing I knew would help me deal with it was another orgasm.



Confession Ch. 01



When her seizures subsided, I stood and prepared to mount her. Suddenly her hand covered her pussy disallowing me entry. I was so hard my cock ached, so distended the skin shinny in the early morning light. Oh god I needed to fuck. Lines of perspiration ran down my chest as my over heated body tried to cool itself. My lust almost overcame me; fortunately, I could vaguely hear her speak.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry, I'm not on the pill. I'm at that time of month. You would make me pregnant. I promise I'll start taking it tomorrow. Come here. Lay on the bed. That's it. 

The next thing I knew, she had straddled my head her hairiness descending on my face, her tits pressed against my abdomen, her mouth, hot, wet, and soothing on my cock. Her floppy sexy labia encompassing my tongue, enfolding it as though it was their own sweet treasure. My body so libidinous I came in seconds spewing first into her mouth and then over her face and tits. She used my orgasmic cock like a fire hose spraying herself with my semen. She turned in the bed straddling my abdomen as she faced me. Ropes of cum covered her face and dripped from her tits. Her open mouth dribbled more cum over her lips and chin. Then with sensuous, sexually soft hands, she began to knead my semen into her tit flesh. Slowly, luxuriously, bathing herself in my cum. Smearing my potent moisture over her neck and shoulder and then spreading it over her face. Finally, she allowed more to dribble from her mouth onto her hand, which she rubbed into her belly before swallowing the balance. It was at that moment I understood what my father had seen in my mother. Why no women, no matter how beautiful was able to turned his head. She was a sensuous sexual goddess of intimacy, transcending any bodily imperfections with a soul made for love. As the morning light grew brighter all I could see was this beautiful gorgeous apparition of passion. Tears came to my eyes as I mentally thanked my father for having the wisdom to choose this woman to be my mother. From that moment on all I ever saw again was the sensuality of her movement, the sexuality of her spirit, her loving soul. I felt deeply privileged to be the object of her love, as I'm sure my father did before me. 

She smiled down at me and I am sure recognized the poignancy of the moment as she explained, "My nature really needed your creamy spend deep inside of me, I wanted you to fill me. Although a poor substitute it seemed to be the next best thing." 

I felt a pang of loss when she left the bed to snuff out the two candles, which had become nubs of their former selves. "Come on get up" she ordered, "we have things to do and talk about. Go get your robe, and meet me in the kitchen. Bacon and eggs okay?" I nodded my assent and headed to my room to get the robe. When I arrived in the kitchen the bacon was already sizzling in the pan and eggs were waiting to join them. My mom was wearing a short terry-towel robe that barely covered her beautiful ass. With newly educated eyes, I noticed the sensuality in every movement she made. She was one of the few women in the world who exuded sexuality without conscious effort and it was a delight to watch her move about the kitchen. 

She turned to me and said in a very serious tone, "I want you to understand that I am about to phone the school and get you a day off. This is a one time only happening because your greatest obligation to me is to work hard and to excel at school. I don't want you sloughing off your work. I'm still you mother and I intend you to become the man I want you to be. However," she said with a twinkle in her eye, "you've had three sleepless nights; largely my fault and I want you to lay around in bed today and rest up." Whereupon, she turned and pushed the bacon to one side and broke the eggs into the frying pan. She waited a few moments flipped them and took them off the heat. She then told me to get the toast started and picked up the phone. She soon informed the school I had had a very rough night and would not be in school that day. I set the table and buttered the toast while she prepared two plates. We ate silently together and when finished we put our dishes in the dishwasher. She then sat me back down at the kitchen table and asked me if I had any reservations about last night. When I replied negatively, she went on, 

"Then I expect you want me to become your lover. Well I want to become your lover too. But you had better understand as both your mother and your lover I will be very demanding. I will not be your pal. I will not be taken frivolously. I will not accept the back talk that as a son I sometimes allowed you. You'll have the privileges of my bed and I expect the maturity that goes with those privileges. Excellence in school and a willing hand about our house is a must. It will be our house for I will have our lawyer change the deed so it is in both our names. It is your responsibility to be a willing partner in looking after us. One last thing," she admonished, "never ever tell anyone anything about what goes on between us. It could get us both in serious trouble."

I took her warning to heart and never told a soul. You can imagine my surprise when a few years later she revealed our secret to another. Any ways I promised I wouldn't and with that she stood up and led me to the bedroom. She leaned over the bed and her short robe rode up over her ass. As she threw the pillows towards the head of the bed her hairy pussy would occasionally peak between her thighs. "Come on," she said breaking my reverie, "help me make the bed." I went to the other side and helped her straighten the sheets apologizing for not helping earlier explaining I had been daydreaming. "I saw what you were day dreaming about." She laughed and when the bed was made, she dropped her robe to the floor behind her. I no longer looked for shapely, I looked for sexual succulence, and it was all there. Fleshy opulence, sexual succulence as she turned and purposely bent from the waist to pick up her robe, mooning me with fleshy buttocks and fat hairy pussy lips. She held that poise for a moment, teasing me, making sure I had a good look, before standing and turning with a Cheshire grin on her face.

She bent forward as she climbed into bed, her tits dangling from her chest bringing my attention to the baby gummed nipples fat and long. I realized my father and I were responsible for their condition and loved their beauty. She held the covers open for me asking if I was going to join her any time soon, snapping me out of my contemplation. I dropped my robe and joined her in the bed laying flat on my back while she tucked a shoulder under an armpit and rolled in close to me. Her head on my shoulder her breasts against one side of my chest. A leg came over my leg pulling it to one side and tucking it between her legs. I felt warm moist heat as she squirmed for comfort and then settled one hand gently touching my cheek easing my face to one side for a gentle kiss. Seventy two hours with hardly any sleep had taken its toll and I fell asleep with my naked mother tucked in beside me.



Confession Ch. 02



I awoke in the early afternoon to a mother's loving kiss, not so strange until I noticed her naked wet hairy pussy was humping my thigh. I rolled towards her, retuning her kiss, ready to initiate another bout of loving. But she stopped me and told me nothing more until we had a shower. "I stink of stale pussy juice and semen," she declared. "I want you to eat me again like you did last night, I had a terrific cum and I'm hoping you'll be able to do it again." It was one of the things, which, I was to grow to like about my mother, there never any equivocation with her. In the bedroom she always stated firmly what she wanted and then with her partner's agreement did it. She told me that she felt that fucking was the nicest thing two people could do for each other and she didn't care what race, nationality, or sex they were as long as they could bring each other pleasure. A very hedonistic viewpoint, but one she obviously believed in. 

We used the shower off the bedroom, which was a small corner cubical that just managed to hold the two us. As the warm water slid over our bodies, making them slick and slippery, I grabbed a bar of soap and lathered up my mother's tits, reaching around her while her bum wiggled against my hard-on. I dropped the soap and played, allowing the heavy balls of flesh to slid and slip in my grasp, paying particular attention to her long fat nipples and puffy areolas, until the water washed the soap away. I bent at the knees and my face slithered down her back until my nose was between her large white round buttocks while I tried to get the soap. She wiggled her bum some more, knowing it would entice and I yelled for her to get her big fat bum out of my face, which elicited the exact response I expected. Further wiggling and greater pressure as she shoved it back against me. I gloried in it for a moment, then retrieving the soap; I stood giving her ass a good smack as I did. It must have stung on her wet behind because she whooped and giggled her belly jiggling under my soaping hand as I carefully washed her abundant pubic hair before sending a finger, then two between her raggedy lips. Her hips thrust her pussy hole against my penetrating fingers enjoying the sensations I gave her, moaning out her joy before she told me to wash her bum. 

I turned her sideways to me, my cock libidinous, humping her slick hip, while I ran the bar of soap over the fleshy mounds of her ass carefully making sure I washed her anus which I knew she found interesting if not stimulating." No not like that," she said taking the bar of soap and lathering up her hands, "like this." She bent herself forward arching her back exposing her little brown pucker. I swear I saw it pout for a moment before she slide a soapy index finger deep rotating it while it stroked back and forth in her rear. She then handed me the soap saying, "here you do it." I soaped up my fingers and slide one in her ass rotating and washing as she had showed me. She pushed back against my finger for a moment before pulling away and saying, "not me silly, you." Taking the bar of soap away from me and with a pretended exasperated tone of voice said, "Here I'll do it." She lathered up her hands then turned me around so she could see what she was doing and slid a finger into me. It was my first experience of anything penetrating me there but as she thrust and rotated, I found the sensation to be strangely pleasurable. When she finished she reached around and lathered up my cock before turning me back to face her. She went up on her tippy-toes, slid my dick between her legs so that her cunt lips began a back and forth motion on the top of my cock. I was very aroused when she pulled me from the shower to dry off. While I was drying, she reached into the medicine cabinet and took out a package of pills. Took one from the dispenser and popped it in her mouth dry swallowing it. "Well that's a start," she said.

We move to the bed. "Want to try something different?" she asked as we climbed into bed. 

"Sure," I replied willing to try any of her sexual games, loving her more deeply with each passing moment. 

"Lay on your back and put your head here," she directed while she stuffed pillow after pillow under my head. She straddled my face her thighs warm against my ears. I could look up her body; see the descending hairy, hot, wetness; her soft voluptuous belly, her pendulous tits, and finally her loving eyes as she looked into mine, while she slid her soft pussy lips over my lips, tongue and nose. Soon that wasn't enough and while my hands played with my own dick and balls, she reared up, taking my head in her hands and pulled my face tightly against her thrusting loins. Thirstily I drank from her humping, heaving sex and her vaginal walls contracted pumping more of her sexual exudate into my craving mouth. My absolute addiction to her odor and flavor further confirmed by my complete surrender to her requirements. It wasn't long before her quivering body and throaty raspy scream announced her orgasm and her warm sweet cum flowed down my throat. My hands brought my own satisfaction and I spurted load after load of warm white cum onto my belly. When she noticed, she carefully licked, following with her tongue, the lines of semen before kissing me with her cum loaded tongue. We continued to kiss long after my flavor had been consumed, simply enjoying warm bodies and soft lips, loving contentedly.

Later she explained why she felt it would not be a good idea for us to consummate our love before her next period, worrying about the possibility of pregnancy. We were like two kids waiting for Christmas. Mom marked a calendar when she thought her period would be and each day before breakfast we would x out the new day as the count down continued. Fortunately, she had an active imagination and found all sorts of sexual positions that required mouth and hand rather than the ultimate conjunction. For the next two weeks she took her pills faithfully and she kept us both sexually satiated with a variety of positions. One night she invented, at least for us, something new and different that I particularly liked. I was laying flat on my back recovering from an unusually long bout of cunt kissing when she spread my legs a little and positioned us so we were bum to bum. My head to the head of the bed, hers to the foot. Her legs over mine her bum nestled in the v formed by mine. She took my rampant shaft and pulled it against her wet, hot cunt. Her four finger tips holding it tightly against her. Her floppy inner lips surrounding the tube of my masculinity, the tip poking above her hairy muff. She began to hump her pussy up and down against the back of my penis, making sure her clit was well stimulated. It was masturbatory, but the closest yet to all out fuck. Soon I was spewing hot cum, like a fountain into the air. It fell splashing both our bellies, leaving us satiated for the moment. 

The night before her period was to start, I thought I tasted a hint of blood as I further satisfied my addiction to her juices. Feeling her body wither and gyrate under my invasive tongue, listening to her sexually inspired moans and whimpers added to my joyful oral fixation. I told her of my suspicions and she confirmed that she had felt some cramping during the day. She once again asked me if I was sure I didn't want to wait until her period was over, explaining that it could be very messy, and I might be put off by the blood. I had suffered through two weeks of what amounted to teasing before the real thing. Now that the day was almost upon us, there was no way I would be deterred by a little blood. I went to school the following morning and spent a useless day dreaming of what might occur after school. My dreams didn't come close to what actually transpired. 

As soon as she heard the door slam she called to me. "Hurry up son, come to me. I need you." I hurried to her bedroom my dick hardening as I almost ran. There she was, naked on the bed, two large beach towels spread under her body, obviously to protect the bed. Yet I still needed confirmation and asked if her period was here. She smiled her affirmation as I stripped readying myself. She spread herself open and revealed a small string dangling form her swollen cunt lips. "I had to put in a tampon," she told me, "so I wouldn't mess up the bed before you got here." As usual there was no prevarication on her part. "Pull it out son, hurry, I need to be fucked." With trembling hand, I reached for the string and pulled gently, slowly revealing the white plug that had been pushed inside her. As soon as the top was revealed, I saw that it was now red with blood. Her raggedy lips seemed to cling to tampon as the body of it came in sight. Mixed with the blood were her mucilaginous excretions giving testament to her needs. I pulled it out. It dangled from the string. I wrapped it in a Kleenex and threw it on the floor, not wanting to waste the time of finding the wastepaper basket that I knew was across the room. I got between her legs ready to mount her. 

The wait of the last two weeks overpowering me with the need to feel the sensation of her warm sheath surrounding my dick for the first time. Her hand took a firm grip on my sex as I leaned into her allowing her to guide me to her opening. I don't know why, but my mind registered that it was just after four as my hardened flesh entered her body. My whole being seemed to become more focused on the female flesh beneath me allowing the bedroom to recede from what little consciousness remained to me. For a moment I watched my mom's face as the expressions of want, need, lust and joy traversed her visage before her arm wrapped itself about my neck pulling my mouth hard against hers, our tongues battling for supremacy. One of her hands held a tit manipulating the nipple, while she opened herself to me. My prick plunged deeply within her, my mind continued to recede from consciousness leaving me only with the awareness of the wet, humping, warm, breathing, heaving, feminine flesh below. 

This was no loving, although in the future we would love a lot. This was the shedding of generations of sexual repression. It was the primeval mating of two animals in heat. With each downward thrust my body attempted to force itself into my mother's core. She told me later that she had similar sensations, spreading her thighs painfully wide in an attempt to unlock her hips. All she could think of was her need of my pistoning flesh to fill her lusting cavity. In my frenzy I pulled out too far and instead of returning to her heat my shaft slid through her pubic hair and up onto her abdomen. I reared up breaking our locked together lips to plunge ineffectively against her legs and perineum until her hand left the large ball of her tit. My mom grasped my cock, wet with her emissions, and reinserted it into her craving loins. As her hand returned to re-grasp her tit, she groaned out, "That's it baby you've cocked me so good."

Although I had never heard the word cock used as a verb before, I knew instantly what she meant. I was filling her so full of man flesh her loins were packed. I realized that although a continuous cocking could translate into a fucking, a fucking didn't mean a cocking. In my pride I understood she was telling me I had the equipment to satisfy her cunt as well as fuck her. Her arm pulled my face to hers and our mouths locked in lust. Our pistoning bodies seemed to melt together into a humping, heaving, rutting, oneness. Outside of our puddle of passion, I could hear the heavy breathing, the whistling gasp as my mother's lungs demanded air, amongst the moans and groans of our mating. Thank God she had insisted that we make sure the pill would be effective, for in my primordial lust I was instinctively attempting to impregnate her, seed her within her depths. Slowly the fervency of our coupling built towards the overwhelming need to release. Balls of fire burnt in our bellies until our bodies began to quake together in orgasmic ecstasy taking us higher and higher. I propelled myself as deep into her as I could; my cock spewed its spermy spit. In that instant as she screamed out in her joy, I knew I had cocked her like never before. Our spasms subsided while we remained intertwined. 

I couldn't leave her. I was melded to her flesh. Although my cock began to soften I remained within her. I don't know if it was residual spasms or a conscious effort on her part, but the walls of her pussy squeezed repeatedly on my infatuated manhood and before I softened to the point I would fall out of her my cock began to harden again. Such was the lust I held for her and the abilities of youth. As soon as she felt me stiffen, she began rut against me. I could feel a build up of moisture between us making our bellies slippery. Her cunt was a sea of her emissions mixed with mine and I could hear the squishy sound of our humping as once again I began the primitive movement that would satisfy my instinctual drive. 

With mindless abandon, I pounded her receptive orifice, uncaring as to whether I hurt her of not, although upon looking back I realize the way she held me to her, messaged to me any pain she may have felt was desired. Perspiration built while our fucking became more frenzied making our bodies slippery. My mother grabbed me by both buttocks drawing blood with her nails as she violently yanked me against her. Breaking our tonguing kiss her mouth suckled on my shoulder muscle for a moment before biting down, drawing blood. It was almost as if she feared our slippery bodies would slip from each other's grasp and she was driving her nails and teeth into me to maintain her hold. Her grip may have been a holdout from our primitive ancestry, a way the female of the species maintained her mate deep within her as she attempted to conceive. The pain of the bite hidden in the haze of lust that crowded any reason from my mind. My heaving body drove hers up the bed until her head banged against the headboard. My toes trying to grip the sheets in an attempt to push my way deeper into her body. I strained to bury myself imparting a series of mini-thrusts, to which her pelvis responded, as we attempted to pack her with an extra millimeter of cock. Her panting, her screams of passion, driving all reason from my mind as for a second time I cocked her; as my pulsating prick sprayed its futile seed trying fruitlessly to inseminate. 

As my cock began to wilt my instincts told me I was about to loose her. The two weeks of teasing provided a solution to my lust-maddened mind. I reared up and turned in the bed noticing through a fog of passion the bloodied mottled look that covered her from navel to knee. One tit marked with a clear outline of a handprint in red. Upon reflection I don't know why blood is so effective at dyeing liquids but it had turned our sexual secretions and sweat into a sea of mucus filled red that marbleized her sensual soft white skin, except around her orifice where it was solid, matting her pubic hair over her entrance. In my ardor, my hand wiped at her cunt in an attempt to clear the hair away that barred me from my goal. In so doing I bloodied my hand and looked for a white spot to wipe it clean. I smeared it all over her other mammary before I realized I had been unsuccessful as her matted hair still covered her. 

Using the thumb and forefinger of both hands I spread her labia wide freeing her opening of her hair and allowing my descending tongue to ravish her as I straddled her face with my legs. I didn't understand that my own pubes were as red as hers as I shoved my flaccid cock into her willing mouth, and I don't think I would've cared if I had. My face ground against her drinking what I thought to be her own particular brand of primordial soup. I reveled in her flooding sexuality, my hands leaving her crotch to slide under her ass lifting her lubricous folds hard against my relishing face. My tongue and mouth retaining the gapping breach my reddened hands had so effectively created. 

In the back of my mind I heard a gagging sound and realized I had driven my fat soft flesh too deeply into my mother's mouth. I increased my tight grip on her ass, bruising her in the process, and rolled in the bed so that the body that had so wonderfully humped and heaved beneath me was now writhing on top of me, her mouth still sucking hard on my flaccid dick. She used my cock like a babies soother, gentling both of us with her tender ministrations until a little while later I felt myself begin to swell once again. In my passionate depravity, I could have continued to bury my face in her secretions for hours; the residual semen that occasionally seeped from her simply adding to my pleasure. But she, taking a final shuddering, humping, heaving orgasmic release from my mouth, wanted more. Much to my disappointment she lifted herself from my grasp and knelt on the bed her face pressed to the towels, her ass high. Using language I came to understand she only used in the bedroom she gasped out, "I want you to use me as your heated bitch, sweetie." 

I was soon positioned behind her, vaguely noticing the large red semi-circles that surrounded her asshole. Her bloodied secretions and mine had run down over her perineum while she was on her back and created a puddle in her crack. Her buttocks had squeezed together forming two mirror images on either cheek, while my handprints smeared more color over the balance of her ass flesh. When I mounted her I reached under her to grasp her floppy jugs pulling on them to pull her sheath over my stiffened prong. I could hear the sloppy wetness as my belly slapped against her buttocks further coating them with color. Yanking on her knockers to change her position and looking at her red patched body, I though she wasn't so much my hot bitch as my piebald mare in estrus as I used her tits as reins. Soon her body responded, as I covered her, while she reared up and spasmed in moaning orgasm bringing about my own orgasmic spermy spew that washed over the walls of her pussy. As my hardness subsided my cock dropped from her genitals to swing between my legs allowing a thin stream of bloodied residue to leak from her vulva onto the bed. 

Having fucked her to exhaustion, she rolled in the bed spreading her legs to accommodate my body. Knowing my mom would be unable to support my body weight I purposely slide lower in the bed so that my stomach was pressed against her pubes, my head rested between her floppy teats. I lost consciousness for a few seconds and when I came to; I found that my overwhelming lust had waned replaced by my love of my mom. The room came back into focus, a darkening sky outside the window. The red luminous numerals on my mother's alarm showing well after nine. I felt her kiss my head and threw back my head to return the kiss. I looked into her eyes and when she returned my gaze, she began to laugh. 

I was more than hurt until she managed to gasp out between what where now almost gales of laughter. "Look at yourself, look at me!" Her voice brought me back to the reality of the moment and I saw her in the same light she saw me. Our bodies glazed with small and large smears of shiny mucus tinted various shades of red, with the exception of our genitals and mouths, which were covered with a much darker shade. Still I wasn't quite finished with her and pulled myself up her body smearing my abdomen with additional color against her pubes, her pubic hair acting as a paint brush. My bloodied face kissing the humor from her eyes and replaced it with a momentary pang of lust, as our kiss seemed to go on and on. Finally, she slapped my ass breaking the kiss and told me clearly it was shower time. 

I rose from the bed and held out a hand to help my mom. In passing her full-length mirror, I saw two bloodied warriors that had copulated furiously, for not the minutes it had seemed like, but for the hours we had rutted in each other's sexual flesh. We could have been two people who had just left the make up room of a movie entitled "The return of the freshly dead." I was both amazed and thank full that the shower washed away the stains of our mutual fuckfest so rapidly as I watched the red wash down the drain. As I look back I feel almost repulsed by our behavior until I understand that if I ever reach that level of need and lust again I'd happily do it again with maybe even more depravity than that day. 




Confession Ch. 02



Sorry it took so long for Chapter 2! I'm in the middle of changing my career and moving across country. Chapter 3 will be out by the end of March. Thank you for all the comments, and enjoy Emily's descent into sin... 

***** 

Part 1: Anticipation 

I had never come in my sleep before. 

I lay in my bed, drenched in sweat. I could feel the juices from my pussy smeared all over my thighs. My panties were soaked. My heart was still racing, and I closed my eyes to try and grasp the fleeting shreds of the dream I had just had... 

Father Damian, with his intense green eyes, his hands on my hips, his cock long and hard - 

- and putting it inside me, from behind, like an animal; 

I closed my eyes again and touched my pussy until I came again, hard, my breaths shuddering as I succumbed to the power of my orgasm. I had it bad. Like, really bad. Was I a sex addict? 

The interesting part was the fact that I had never had sex, so lots of it I couldn't visualize. But I could definitely fantasize. And on that I wasted no time. 

I got out of bed to jump in the shower and wash the sex dreams off of me. As I lathered up I wondered if Father Damian thought of me when I wasn't there. Did he have dreams about me too? Did he touch himself, imagining filling me with his cock? Did he think about me when he was in the shower, or having breakfast, or writing homilies? 

The last thought made me blush and I got down to the business of getting ready for school. 

I picked out my cutest clothes, because it was Friday, and after school we were carpooling to Guerin Catholic high school for JFest. My Candies jeans, the best ones - I usually felt guilty wearing them because they looked so good. A white lacy camisole, and over it, a light blue and brown striped sweater. I began to braid my crazy blonde hair, and the result was super messy, but I liked it anyway. I started to run out the door to catch the bus but had to run back - I almost forgot my Celtic cross and scapular. I would not be the only girl without them. 

On the bus and the entire school day I daydreamed about making out with Father Damien during confession. Maybe more. It would be risky to do more, but maybe when everyone is asleep...maybe... 

"EMILY!" 

I snapped out of my reverie. "What?" 

"Are you ready to go or what?" 

We were standing outside by the flagpole with our overnight bags. Everyone was looking at me. 

"Yeah okay." I shrugged. "Sorry, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night." Sarah rolled her eyes. They all turned around and headed toward the car. 

Tara dropped back and put her arm around my shoulders as we walked. "Hey." 

"Hey." 

"You okay?" She dropped her arm and adjusted her heavy backpack. "You seem kind of out of it lately. Things okay at home? Should we pray for you?" 

"Oh no! It's nothing like that, it's just..." I bit my lip. "I have a crush. A really, really bad one. I can't stop thinking about him." 

Tara giggled. "You should have told me! Who is it?" 

My cheeks burned and I looked down. "I can't tell you." 

"Who?" 

"Nobody." 

"Come on. Who is it?" 

"Nobody!" 

"Emily!" She pouted. 

"Taraaaa!" I mocked her pouting face back at her. "I'm serious, I really don't want to talk about it. He'll never go for me anyway." 

"Ah." Comprehension dawned on her face. "It's a teacher." 

"No!" My stomach dropped and my face flushed again. She hit too close to the truth. 

"It IS a teacher!" She practically squealed with glee. "It's Mr. Richards, isn't it?" 

We arrived at Heather's mom's minivan. Or megavan, really. There were nine Storey children so Mrs. Storey drove one of those huge white vans. Like, a minibus. Which meant she was usually stuck with giving every kid in town a ride. Heather overheard us a little. "What did you say about Mr. Richards?" 

"Emily has a super secret crush on him and it's eating her up inside." 

Heather turned beet red, making me realize she actually did have a super secret crush on said teacher. I felt a little better and glared at Tara. "I. Do. Not." I threw my duffel bag in the trunk. "Anyway, my secret love would never compare to your undying freaking passion for Mark. Did Evan talk to him yet or what?" 

Thank god. She took the bait and prattled off about God knows what, because I stopped actually listening and focused on killing the panic rising in my gut. We were in the car. Going to JFest. Where I would be spending the weekend, more or less, around Father Damian. It was all happening. 

What would we do next? He mentioned something about "far greater sin" last time we were together...while staring at my mouth. I quickly realized that I definitely wanted to delve deeper. I began to think about Father Damian's hard, massive cock filling my throat and I got instantly wet and distracted. 

"Emily!" 

"What?" I cleared my throat. "Sorry, what?" 

"Do you think that when Kyle told Evan that Mark thinks that Torie is cute he meant like baby cute or like sexy cute?" 

I pretended to think on it. "Baby cute. I mean, she looks like she's twelve." 

Tara flipped her hair. "I know right?" 

We pulled up to Guerin Catholic School. Jesus. Christ. And there he was, standing outside with a group of boys from our school, with that sexy hair and those green eyes. Father Damian. I got out of the car with the other girls, feeling so self-conscious of my every movement. I could feel him watching me. 

I glanced over. Definitely watching me. He quickly, ever so slightly, smiled at me. I smiled back, looked down, and bit my lip. He looked incredibly turned on...and quickly looked away. 

He did think about me. I was sure of it. 

I practically swaggered in to Jfest and threw my bags with the other girls' before joining everyone else in the gym. 

The gym was buzzing. Each diocese was passing out t-shirts, taking role, and everyone was forming cliques immediately. At these retreats, my group of girls were the most popular. We were the good girls - the ones that volunteer to go on missions and visit old people in nursing homes. We all had virginity pledge cards to save sex until marriage. And Heather was even sure that marriage was out of the question. She wanted to be a nun and be married to Jesus, so, naturally, she was the coolest. 

Tara found a cute guy playing the guitar and dragged me over, and we sat in a circle, singing worship songs that all of us knew and doing the hand motions together. 

As soon as everyone was checked in, each youth leader collected our cell phones and watches so there would be no distractions...we were on "God's time." The MC jumped onstage, and the retreat started with an excited overview of all of the things planned for us this weekend. For the first time ever, I began to feel a little wary of the retreat that was about to happen. They were huge, emotional undertakings, ones that were supposed to revamp your spirituality like a good spring cleaning. I didn't feel strong enough to undergo something like that at the moment. I was distracted. 

I glanced over at Father Damian, standing in the back with the other two priests. Our eyes met and I looked away, blushing. 

The cute boy who had been playing the guitar scooted to sit behind Tara and I from a couple spots over. He tapped my shoulder. "Hey," he whispered. "I haven't seen you at these before. What's your name?" 

"Emily." 

"I'm Kyle." He was staring directly at my chest. "You have a beautiful voice." 

I blushed. "Thank you." 

Tara had an expression on her face like she had gotten the green skittle. She hated the green skittle. I know it's wrong, but I gleefully began to enjoy the attention I was getting from Kyle, just to spite her. "You're really good at the guitar." 

"Thanks. We should jam some more during free hour. I think it's at seven." 

I smiled. "Sounds like a plan, Kyle." 

Mrs. Storey narrowed her eyes at me and I gave Kyle the, woops, we're caught look and began to fake paying attention. 

In the distance, Father Damian looked distracted. 

Part 2: The Office 

"Office by the pool. 7" it was scrawled on a scrap of paper obviously torn from the program. 

Father Damian had slipped it into my hand during the opening mass. After saying the Our Father, everyone shakes hands, but the JFest tradition was hugs - to everyone. Except priests, you don't touch the priests beyond a handshake. Father Damian clutched my hand and smiled warmly. "Peace be with you, Emily." I felt the paper in his hand and looked up, quizzically, and replied, "And also with you." 

After he left I opened it. At seven o clock was an hour of free time. Traditionally it was used for flirting and hanging with your girlfriends - retreats were the perfect place to find a nice Catholic boy. Some played music, others went outside and played basketball. I had made plans to 'jam' with that nice boy Kyle, but they were instantly forgotten. 

I, apparently, was going to confession. 

The office was not too hard to find. The school swimming pool was next to the gym. The lights were all off but the door was unlocked. Inside, I could see one light coming from the office. There was only one small window, a vertical one in the door. I walked in. Father Damian was sitting at the desk, leaning back. He smiled nervously when I walked in and quietly shut the door behind me. His green eyes were hungry. 

"Emily." 

I sat down. "Father Damian." My heart was pounding in my ears. 

"I thought we would have...some confession. Before the retreat. Cleanse our souls. Is that okay with you?" 

I licked my lips. "Yes. Please." I was nervous. And so, so turned on. I bit my lip. 

He sat up straighter, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "Come here then," he said, and all pretense of an actual confession was dropped. 

I came. 

I sat on his lap and our lips met, hungrily. He attacked my mouth like a wolf, biting, kissing, one hand on the back of my head, pulling my hair back so he could kiss me deeper. I kissed him back with abandon. My tongue found his mouth and he sucked it, sensually. I moaned, my hands stroking his chest. 

He cupped my breasts, firmly, his fingers finding my nipples through my flimsy bra. He growled and ripped down my camisole, making my breasts pop out above them. He sucked on my nipples, making me gasp, and teased them with his tongue and his teeth. 

His other hand found my legs, stroking my thighs, working their way up, so slowly, as he kissed me again. He felt me from outside of my jeans and I felt him groan into my throat. "Jesus," he breathed, "you've soaked through your jeans, Emily." I whimpered and kissed him deeper while he undid the top button of my pants. Slowly, deliberately, he unzipped them. His hand went inside, and he cupped my mound, possessively. I moved my hips against his hand, inviting him in, and he stuck a finger in my pussy as I moaned, deeply. 

When he felt how wet I was, he lost it. 

He threw me on the desk and papers and a cup of pens were cast to the floor. All the restraint, the tenderness - gone. He pulled off my jeans, taking my sandals with them, in a single motion, and pulled my legs over his shoulders as he lunged toward my sopping wet pussy. 

The rest of my life I will remember how Father Damian ate my pussy. 

His tongue circled my clit...over and over he circled it, stopping occasionally to fuck my hole with his tongue. He sucked my labia, savagely, and lapped up my juices thirstily. I began to whimper - this was too much, this onslaught of pleasure, such sensuous torture - and he took two fingers and plunged them deep inside of me while he sucked and licked and made love to my clit. He pumped his fingers in and out and in and out and I began to feel it coming, oh it was coming, oh my god and he wouldn't stop fucking me with his hand and he sucked my clit again, hard, and I was coming, oh god was I coming - I was blind and my soul was in a million pieces, shattered, twisting, spiraling out of control as I moaned "ohhhhhhhhh." He was watching me now, his face glistening with my juices, his green eyes boring into me, just his hand kept going, kept thrusting in and out and in and out and oh god there was more, how could there be more, and as I completely lost function of my entire body in my full-body orgasm I heard him whisper, "yessss...good girl, come for me...good girl." 

My body was wracked with wave after wave of pleasure, and eventually went limp...my heart was beating through my chest. I closed my eyes and he kissed me. 

"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," Father Damian whispered. "Come here." 

I sat up and looked at him. His pants were undone, and his rock-hard cock was just waiting there for me. It was massive - past his belly button. It was the only one I had ever seen, but I was pretty sure most men were not this big. They couldn't be. 

I smiled and snaked down to the floor in front of his chair. I got on my knees and he drank in the sight of it. 

I had no idea what to do, but after the way he just made me feel, I sure as hell was going to try. 

I started at the bottom - his balls - and slowly licked my way up, like he was an ice cream cone. I did this a few times, slowly, before circling around the tip with my tongue. 

He exhaled. "Ohh." And I slowly started to take him into my mouth. I wasn't sure I could fit him all, so I did it a little bit at a time. I went down an inch, then back up, and swirled the tip again. Another two inches. Back up. He closed his eyes. "Yes," Father Damian breathed, as I slowly swallowed his cock. It finally hit the back of my throat and I whimpered. I wanted more in me. 

I breathed deeply, slowly, relaxed my throat, and took Father Damian's whole cock in my mouth. He moaned and grabbed my hair. "Yes..." He moved my head up and down, slowly. "You...are...so...sweet...oh Emily..." He began to move his hips up and to fuck my mouth. "Christ." He began to move his hips faster, holding my head tightly by my hair as he slowly pumped my mouth...and I was loving it. Oh God was I loving this. I began to finger my pussy. 

"Good girl," he breathed as he fucked my face faster...and faster. I expertly touched my pussy to orgasm, convulsing on him, and the sight of me coming, my mouth full of his cock, set him over the edge and he came, shooting stream after stream of thick, hot, white cum down my throat. I swallowed it eagerly. 

Father Damian leaned back. The white strip has fallen out of his collar and his hair was sticking up. I stood up and leaned over to kiss him. He tasted like my pussy, and I licked my juices off of his chin and cheeks. He sighed, deeply. 

"Mmm." I said. "I told you I like the taste..." 

He languidly, but passionately kissed me back. "Yes you did, my child. You did." He chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "However, you didn't confess a history with blowjobs..." 

"What history?" We were still kissing between words, my bare ass and pussy rubbing on his jeans now. 

"That can't have been your first time." 

I pulled back. "Why?" Pouting, I asked, "was it bad?" 

He grabbed my hair, pulling my face to his, and kissed me deeply. "No, no no. It was...heavenly. You truly have a gift." 

I put my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. I glanced up at the clock over his head. It was 7:58. "Oh no. It's eight. It's eight." 

We flew up from the chair. I found my pants, and Father Damian straightened the office. I whirled around to help and picked up the name plaque on the desk. It said, "Fr Damian Akey." 

"This is your office?" 

"Yeah," he breathed as he picked up papers. "I share it with two other priests. We coach some of the sports teams here - I do basketball. Helps break up the monotony of the vocation." 

"I think I help with that a little." I bent over to fasten my sandals, giving Father Damian a view. 

He grabbed my hips, twirled me around, and kissed me deeply. "More than you know. Now go. They're starting adoration soon and if you are late, they will notice. Go. I'll follow in a few." 

I turned the doorknob to go, and Father Damian said, "oh - Emily?" 

I smiled. "Yes?" 

"There's mandatory confession. Tomorrow. For everyone, between 2 and 4. Please - don't wear any panties." 

Part 3: Possession 

"Where the hell were you?" Tara was upset. Heather, Hannah, and Lisa were listening but tried not to let on. 

"I...had to go to confession before adoration. I had a few things on my mind. Wanted to cleanse myself before, um, adoring the lord." My breath hitched from lying. I was not used to it. 

She narrowed her eyes. "Kay." She pointed across the gym. "Your new boyfriend was looking for you." Kyle was by the makeshift baptismal font, putting his guitar back into its case. His eyes met mine and he smiled. 

"Oh no," I said, "Shoot, he's coming over here." And he was. 

"I mean, if you don't wanna talk to him, we can take care of that, girl..." Tara glanced over at the rest of our group meaningfully. 

"No, it's fine, I'll - " Kyle came up and hugged me. Hugged me. I blushed at the intrusion. "Hey." 

"Hey," he said. "I was looking for you. Where did you go?" 

I mumbled something about confession and cleansing and blah blah blah. He beamed. 

"That's a great idea. Why aren't there more girls like you?" 

The music started, signaling the start of service, and he sat down with me, his fingers looping around mine. My heart started racing as I looked around to find Father Damian. I had no idea what to do, and I didn't see him anywhere. 

Adoration began and, like clockwork, all of the girls I came with turned on the waterworks. The Eucharist (the host, another name for the bread we eat at mass) was enshrined in an elaborate golden cross. Catholics believe in transubstantiation, or the literal conversion of the bread into the body of Christ. So by that logic, the bread in front of us was Jesus, actually Jesus - a scrap of his flesh, displayed in gold, for all of us to bawl at and repent at and...adore. 

But this year I felt nothing. Was something wrong with me? Was this sin too great for confession, this thing with Father Damian, was this hardening my heart to Jesus? 

So I broke it down in my head. Without the dim lighting...and the soft, emotional music...without the girls standing next to me, sobbing about how much they loved Jesus, and how unworthy they were. Without all of these things, I would feel nothing. 

So nothing is exactly what I felt, and for me it was just fine. 

Next to me Kyle was kneeling, his head bowed, his prayers fervently falling from his lips, his hand squeezing mine, hard. He blinked a few tears out of his eyes and turned to me. 

"I am so unworthy." 

Oh jeez. No. I was not in the mood. 

"It's okay." 

"No, it's not," he said, standing up, and reached to envelop me in a big, tight bear hug. His hips crushed against mine, my breasts were smushed against his chest, and I felt him grow hard against me. Oh my. Definitely not as big as Father Damian, my suspicions were right. This kid was miniscule. He sniffled into my hair and mumbled, "Thank you. You are wonderful." He kissed my cheek, and I pulled back. 

"I have to go." And I walked away, quickly, leaving a very confused Kyle. My friends watched me leave. I darted into the restroom at the back of the gym and stayed in there for a while. When the music became upbeat, I knew it was over, and the masses of repentant adolescents began to cheer wildly. I was still not in the mood. 

I felt totally detached from everyone around me. Maybe I was just outgrowing these things. For the first time, I was keenly aware of everyone and everything trying to manipulate me. I felt like a woman, not a girl. And if I didn't want to do this, I didn't have to. 




Confession Ch. 02



But I blushed at the thought of sleeping in the same building as Father Damian that night. 

I met everyone in the cafeteria for the late dinner, and then we all filed back into the gym for sleeping arrangements. We were all split into classrooms. Our bags had been moved into our assigned rooms and we dug into them, doing our hair, our nails, and putting our sleeping bags all in a circle. This was the fun part, and I began to connect with my girlfriends again as we chatted about school, and boys, and our summer plans. There was a mission trip that summer to help build houses in Appalachia and we all decided that that would be a fun thing to do. I was thrilled. I loved being outdoors and the trip sounded perfect. Especially if Father Damian was going to be there. 

One by one the girls fell asleep. We played "rainbow," which meant that when the designated person (usually Heather, because she was such a snot) whispered "rainbow," everyone who was awake whispered it back. If you didn't, because you were asleep, we took colored markers and wrote on you. Nice, huh? 

When it was just me and Heather, I pretended to be asleep, so she could just get it over with - doodle on my boob and fall asleep. Otherwise she would stay up all night just to win, and I had plans. 

As soon has her breath deepened and I heard the hitch of a snore, I got up and went down the hall to the bathroom. I looked around, cautiously - and when I realized I wasn't being watched, I turned left instead of right. Toward the pool. 

I was barely halfway there before I practically stumbled into Father Damian. He was walking down the hall. He almost ran into me and stepped back. "Emily." 

I bit my lip. "Father Damian. I was looking for you." 

He looked almost angry, his eyes boring holes into the nipples poking through my sheer pajamas. "Were you?" 

"I was." 

His eyes darted around. "Okay. Come with me." 

Father Damian grabbed my hand and led me into the next hallway. He tried the door to an empty classroom. Locked. We walked down to the next. Locked. There was one more classroom in this hallway, and I guess third time's a charm - the door swung open. 

We walked inside the classroom and Father Damian turned to lock the door. He turned towards me and immediately shoved me up against the wall. His hands ripped open the front of my nightshirt and buttons flew everywhere. He sucked at my nipples, softly bit them, then came up and growled into my ear. 

"You needed this." He sucked on my earlobe, salaciously. "You needed me." 

"Yesss." I ground my hips against his hard, hard cock. 

"You." He gripped my pajama pants and pulled them down, forcefully. "Are." He completely ripped off my panties. "Mine." He brought my panties to his face and breathed in deeply before tossing them aside. His cock was straining against his jeans. 

I just moaned. "Yesss." 

He kissed me again. Bit my neck. Kissed my collarbone. 

"I saw you with that boy." He pressed me higher up against the wall again, so my legs were wrapped around his waist. "Are you his?" 

I swallowed. Shit. "No." 

"No?" 

"No." 

He ground his cock against the entrance to my pussy. 

"Whose are you?" 

"Yours." I undid the top button of his pants and felt the head of his cock emerge. I inhaled, sharply, with longing. He was assaulting my mouth with his tongue, and when he groaned, I felt it in my throat. 

"Mine," he growled and sucked on my earlobe again, then ran his tongue up and down the ridge of my ear. "Let me take it." 

I felt him grinding against me and was dizzy with desire. I reached up and yanked the white band out of his collar and tossed it on the floor, then began undoing his buttons one by one. I still hadn't seen him shirtless. 

"Give it to me," he whispered. "Give me that pussy." 

His chest was chiseled, muscular, and just hairy enough. I tugged the shirt out of his jeans and he shrugged it off of his arms, onto the floor, then kissed me, deeply, his tongue thrusting in and out of my mouth, mimicking the action we both desired so very badly. 

The fire in my belly burned up every trace of that promise card I signed last year. I swallowed. "Yes." 

Father Damian moved his hips and entered me, hard, tearing through my virginity in a single thrust. 

I moaned, first in pain, then in pleasure. I could barely move for the fullness. His massive cock was buried inside of me and it was better than everything I fantasized. 

He whispered "Fuckkk. You are so tight." With my legs still around him, he slowly moved his cock, first out than back in, slowly, gently, like he was afraid I would break. He was in absolute control, and I was hanging on, wanting more, needing more. 

"Please..." I whispered. "More." 

He buried his face in my neck and his cock deeper inside my pussy. "Say it. Tell me." 

"Please..." I gasped. "Please fuck my pussy." I could not believe that those words had actually come from my own lips. 

He swung me around and lay me down on the nearest desk, grabbing my ankles and bending my legs back toward my shoulders. I was completely naked now except for the sleeves of my nightshirt hanging onto my arms, the soft mounds of my breasts free from clothing. Father Damian pushed my legs back and swiftly impaled me with his cock, and began thrusting into me, deeply. It hurt - he was so big - but it hurt so good, and the moaning coming from my mouth didn't seem like my own. He reached down with one hand and played with my clit while he fucked me with his hard, hard cock, over and over, his eyes wild. I writhed under him, barely able to stand this much pleasure. His hair clung to his forehead in damp curls, and beads of sweat formed on his brow. He seemed to me, above me in this moment, like a god, a man so sexy he couldn't possibly be real. I submit my body to him completely and screamed as I came. His hand covered my mouth, silencing me, hushing my screams as he continued to fuck me like I deserved. 

"Yes...good girl...come on my dick. Good girl." 

I had barely had a chance to breathe before he flipped me over and entered me from behind. Father Damian smacked my behind, hard, and continued to thrust into me, and I could tell he was losing control. It was harder, faster, and he was grunting with the exertion. I moved my hips to meet his, eagerly, and we established a holy rhythm, a perfect unison. I could hear his balls slapping against me and the sound made me start to feel a familiar twisting in my gut. 

"Father..." 

"Yes..." 

"I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." 

"Yes..." he lost all control and fucked me like the slut I was. He grabbed my neck with both hands as he impaled me ever deeper. "Come for me...oh God..." He groaned as my pussy tightened around him as I came again, stars in my eyes, every fiber of my being tightening with the pleasure of it, of letting go, of letting him fill me. He groaned and shot jet after jet of hot cum deep in my pussy. I felt it hit the back wall of my throbbing hole and moaned. It was so delicious. 

Father Damian turned me to face him and kissed me, passionately, pulling me down to lay on the ground with him. I snuggled into his arms, resting my head on his chest. My hair was a liability, the blond curls in the way of everything. He chuckled and tried to move it out of his face, before giving up and softly kissing my cheek. 

"That was..." he exhaled heavily. "Incredible." 

I hummed in agreement and snuggled closer. "Bless me father, for I have sinned." I slowly dipped a finger into my pussy, then brought it to my lips and licked it clean. "Mmmm," I whispered. "You taste good. Sweet and salty." 

He laughed and then tickled me. "You are so dirty. No wonder you felt the need to seek me out." 

I crawled down to between his legs and licked his cock clean. "The dirtiest." I said, and I felt him twitch beneath my tongue as he started to get hard again. 

"No..." he moaned. "I mean yes. But we have to get pack. People will begin to wonder." I had moved down to his balls now and was suckling them like a lollipop. "Ahh. Emily." 

"Okay okay." I climbed on top of him and kissed him. It was the perfect kiss. I began to look for my clothes and was dismayed. My shirt was missing every single button. 

Father Damian laughed at me. "Wait," he said, "the JFest shirts are just around the corner. I'll grab you one." 

He quickly dressed, carefully inserted his collar back in his shirt, and turned towards me. "What do you think?" 

"Come here," I said, and when he came I pulled him back down and kissed him hard. "Good," I replied, "Just fix your hair a little." 

He was out and back in a flash with a brand new shirt. It was a medium and barely fit over my chest, but it was better than the other shirt I was wearing. I shoved that into my pocket and began to fix my hair into a ponytail. Father Damian growled and spun me around on the desk, shoving his hardening cock against me again. He leaned and whispered in my ear, "you are mine. I don't want to see you touching other boys..." he frowned. "I don't know what this means yet, I don't know where we go from here, but I assure you, Miss Emily," he said softly, "you will love every moment." 

I felt like I died and went to heaven. 

Sneaking back into the classroom that night I was pretty sure that everyone was asleep. I didn't notice that Tara lay way too still, and for once, she wasn't snoring.



Confession Ch. 02



I settled into my lounge chair and played back the massage in my head. I could still feel the warmth of the oil dripping down my sides, the softness of her her touch on my arms and legs and the look of her tiny hands wrapped around my cock. I could see myself on all fours bucking my hips as she coaxed an orgasm out of me. 

Almost involuntarily, my hands started to rub up and down the front of my jeans. As my cock strained against my briefs and pants, I quickly unzipped my jeans, stood up, let everything on my legs fall to the floor and settled back into my lounge chair. I reached over to my side table and grabbed the bottle of ever present lube. My goodness I've spent a lot of money on Astroglide. I poured the lube onto the tip of my cock and watched it flow down to my balls. I dragged my fingers up and down the shaft and lightly rubbed my scrotum with my finger tips. I let my hand drop down just a bit and gently rubbed my taint and circled the opening to my ass. I couldn't believe just an hour ago I let a complete stranger finger fuck my then virgin ass on a motel room bed. 

As I settled more deeply into my chair, I began to stroke my cock. I circled the head with my finger tips and then stroked myself some more. I spread my legs to allow myself easier access to my balls. Years of daily masturbation had taught me exactly what areas of my cock were most sensitive, how best to drag out my orgasm and how to quickly cum. Right then, I needed to cum, so I stroked myself with a fervor that I would later find turned on many women. I came all over my shirt and some even shot over my shoulder to the chair. I had cum twice in about 90 minutes. I felt guilty and excited all at the same time. 

As the week went on I couldn't get the feeling of the massage out of my head, and I decided I needed more. So, again, I flipped through the back pages of the alternative paper looking for someone that could give me a fix. The actual ad left much to the imagination, but it promised more than a body rub. I knew I was dancing with fire, but I also knew I hadn't experienced actual penetration in more than 5 years and the need for more touch was an ache I needed to address. Everything related to my body rub transpired so easily, I decided I could manage the risk. I called the number in the ad. 

The voice on the other end was soft, sultry and, perhaps, a bit husky. I could tell she was younger than the masseuse and not quite as experienced. I told her I'd seen her ad and was curious about her schedule. She relayed that nights were best for her and that she only could do outcalls. To be honest, at that time, I had no idea what that meant, but I said no problem. She said great and asked me for my address. 

"What? I thought to myself. She wanted my address?" Shit, I didn't know what to do. I was ready for more, but at my house? Really? In a timespan I still cannot fathom, I weighed the pros and cons of having her come to my house, thought about how I'd explain her visit if my neighbors asked any questions and contemplated how I'd respond if she showed up at my door unannounced some evening. I rationalized everything knowing that a gnawing ache needed to be addressed. I nervously sighed, provided her directions to my house and agreed that a 10:00 PM date would work great. 

Getting through the day was painful. For a diversion, I cleaned my house like a mad man. I went out and bought candles. I changed the sheets on my bed. Sure, I was going to pay for her sexual services, but I wanted her to enjoy her time with me. In some strange way, I wanted this to be a date for me that finally included a climax to a great evening. Hell, I even worried if my outfit would be acceptable. 

As 10:00 PM approached, I waited for her in my front room. I paced back and forth looking out my window. I only can equate my anticipation at that time to waiting for the kick-off of a football game. My body was raging with excitement and anxiety. I didn't know it then, but I was laying the foundations of a ritual I would relive almost weekly for years. 

My neighborhood was very quiet and dark, so I knew it was her when I saw headlights in the distance. I stared out the window and waited for her. I stayed far enough back to prevent her from seeing me watching her; I didn't want her to think I was some sort of stalker. I was transfixed on her car door and then a number of thoughts ran through my head that even now I still ponder. Was she worried about my looks? Was she worried about her safety? Was she questioning why she chose this profession? Was she worried about the criminal nature of the transaction? 

The door to her grey Celica opened and my heart raced even faster. I can remember this moment like it was yesterday. She was beautiful. She was tall, taller than me for sure, blonde, busty and wearing a fuck-me dress. It came to about the middle of her thighs. She had curves. I don't know why, but I expected all escorts to be rail thin with big, fake boobs. I'm sure deep down I figured they all were drug addicts, and I was just paying for their addictions. This woman changed my perception forever. This woman was healthy, and she was hot. 

I let her ring the doorbell and then made my way to the foyer. I left the porch light off to limit the vision of any peering eyes and asked her to come in. I was so freaking nervous I was talking at warp speed. Oddly, at that very minute I started to realize why I couldn't hook up when I went out. I was a bumbling mess. 

I led her to my TV room and invited her to sit down. I had at least a dozen candles providing the only light in the house. Enigma played in the background. Don't ask me why but Enigma and Mazzy Star became my music of choice for what is called the hobby by many, the addiction by me. I could tell she'd been drinking, but she wasn't drunk. She admitted that she'd been out with some girlfriends and was excited to meet me. I put her in her mid-20's. I guessed at the time she might have been a stripper in her late teens or early 20's. I definitely could tell she had experienced much more life than I had. She asked for a gin and tonic when I offered her a drink. I told her to make herself at home, and I went to get some liquor out of my cabinets. 

She took off her heels and followed me to the kitchen. She asked how long I'd lived there and what I did for work. I spoke in generalities. I didn't want to give her too much private information. Sure, I wanted to bury my face in her bosom, but I didn't think that meant I needed to tell her my life story. Even with my guard up, we had a nice conversation. 

She came a little bit closer to me and leaned in to give me a kiss. My body soaked in the warmth of her lips. They were so soft. I could feel her chest push against me and then her fingers rubbing up and down my arm. She pulled back just a bit and whispered that I was cute. I don't know if she meant it or not, but it had the intended effect. My nervousness subsided and I went with the flow. 

I put my hands on the side of her cheeks and slowly kissed her. I extended my tongue only slightly, just far enough for her to feel it against her lips. She opened her mouth just a bit and pushed herself against me. For the first time in years, I actually felt a woman tight to me and wanting me. Her hand went behind my neck and pulled me tighter to her. I could feel her smiling as my cock sprang to life. She moaned just a bit and placed my left hand on her chest. Even through the fabric, I could feel that her breasts were real. She then took her hand and started to rub it up and down the front of my pants. My cock was so hard it hurt. The intensity of our kissing increased, and I started to wonder who wanted this more. 

As we kissed she deftly unzipped my slacks and worked her hands inside my briefs. For some odd reason, I always find cock, ball and even pussy play so much sexier when clothed. There is just something naughty about a woman's hands finding their way to one's cock rather than just having it sitting their waiting for her. Maybe in my warped mind it makes me feel like she wants me more, because she's working hard to please me. Regardless, her hand found its way to my cock and down to my balls. She stopped kissing me and fell to her knees in the middle of my kitchen. 

She looked at me as she pulled down first my slacks and then my briefs. She really was beautiful, and I'm not just saying that because she was getting ready to blow me. She stared at me and circled the head of my cock with her tongue. My cock twitched when she pursed her lips and slowly wrapped them around the head crown of my penis. I tilted my head back and relished in the sensation of my first oral stimulation in years. 

I'm sure she could tell this was more than a quick fuck for me. I think she was enjoying the pleasure I was getting from her visit. There simply was a passion in her touch that belied that this was just a transaction. Looking back, this was just more rationalization by me. 

When I looked down I could see her saliva on my cock. I could see her hard nipples protruding through the fabric of her dress. She pulled back and ran her hand up and down my shaft and gently sucked my balls. She leaned lower and gently flicked her tongue across my ass. I moaned and my cock got even harder. 

I reached out and ran my hands through her hair and she in turn grabbed my ass. She pulled me deep into her throat, and I clenched my ass cheeks together. And just like that I came in her mouth. She hungrily accepted my seed as I convulsed. My body went limp and she withdrew her mouth from my cock. She looked up at me and smiled. She had swallowed all of my cum and wanted me to know that she had enjoyed it. She raised herself up and lightly dragged her lips across mine. I could smell my cum in her breath, but I didn't really care. I said thank you and gently kissed her lips. 

I was hoping she'd spend the night, but deep down I knew that wasn't going to happen. It was something inherent to my addiction. As much as I wanted to think "dating" escorts would be a way for me to meet a significant other, that just wasn't part of the deal. 

I walked her to her car, pushed her against the door and gave her one last deep kiss. She thanked me, told me to call her anytime and drove away. 

Call her anytime, I thought to myself. That would happen very soon.



Confession Ch. 02



Then the hot water hit my shoulder and stung like crazy. My mother saw me wince and in both mother and lover mode almost cried when she noticed what she had done to my shoulder. It was then I realized she was not unscathed as well. Her lips swollen, the bottom one split, from our passion. Bruises all over her torso from how I had pushed her into the positions I wanted. Her droopy tits particularly battered by my grip as I used them as my reigns. The lips of her sex swollen, daggling between her legs maintaining her freshly fucked look. When we left the shower she insisted in pouring iodine all over my shoulder and then turned me to dab more on my ass. Her nails had not so much scratched me as dug a multitude of holes as she gripped and re-gripped maintaining me deep within her. 

When we returned to the bed, it was a shambles. Blood stains everywhere, the towels a mess. Fortunately, although blankets and sheets were stained, the mattress remained clean. We changed the bedding. You would think that we would have been through with each other, having enough for the moment, but that was not the case. Putting new towels on the bed my mother once again lay on top of them, her legs spread wide indicating her needs. I understood what she wanted. I slid, with her guidance, once again into her warmth, but this time with a gentleness that we had hitherto not indulged. I began to kiss her, for a moment, she winced, pain caused by her split lip, but it was soon forgotten, as our necking continued. Although my cock was imbedded in her welcoming cunt, this was more of a series of kisses than a fucking. Once again, she went out of her way to tell me how much she was enjoying being cocked while we kissed. We lay there for hours, some time fighting the urge to fuck, so we could prolong the deep loving that was bonding us together. I finally fell out of her as we went to sleep entangled in each other's arms. A few hours later, I awoke for a moment, pulled a blanket over us, re-cocked her, and nestled against her warm sensual being, falling back to sleep. 

With a night like that, and quite honestly many other loving nights over the next few years, you can imagine my surprise when a few years later my mother cheated on me.




Confession Ch. 03



As the months passed after our first unbelievable encounter, we became a little more mundane in our loving. That's not to say we became complacent. It was more a case of being truly shocked by our behavior that first evening. I think we were both a little frightened of the lack of control we had both exhibited. Yet, although I can't speak for my mother, I myself almost wished that such unbridled lust would over take me again. Allow me the total freedom of fucking her with no limits placed on our rutting. It's hard to explain. For example, I had no wish to hurt my mom in any manner, but in the back of my mind I remembered our battered and bruised bodies with a certain admiration. There was no way I could suck on my mother's cunt during her menstruation, but in some weird way I wished that mind consuming lust would once again pervade my body allowing me to abandon convention and suck the menses from her.

However, our sex life was good. I remember my mom telling me, a few weeks after we began that the honeymoon would soon be over, as I entered her for the third time that night. I will admit as the first year passed the frequency of ejaculation did diminish, but the urgency of sex was replaced with love that in many ways exceeded climatic demands. My mother taught me to cock her thoroughly. Every night we struggled to cock. Often taking a large part of the evening to make sure that her pussy was absolutely stuffed with every millimeter of flesh I could force into her, before she or I would begin the motions of fucking. Many nights we did not bother with climatic release preferring to fall asleep with her body packed with cock. Usually after such a night, we'd have a quickie in the morning before I went to school. 

As our love grew, our relationship began to change. Although I was still very much my mother's boy I became her partner as well. I accepted my duties as a partner in the maintenance of our lives accepting the need to vacuum and dust as easily as mowing the lawn and painting. Washing the dishes in the evening after a meal became a pleasant ritual, for once the last dish was put away, my mom expected her evening cuddle, where I would stand behind her at the sink and lift her large pendulous flesh from her bra and admire their weight. Usually her nipples would erect the moment I touched her breasts and if not I would kiss her neck and shoulders until they did. This always elicited the same response to the point I had it memorized.

"Take me to bed and cock me." She would say, and to the best of my ability, I would.

School became a large part of my life, not because I had come to appreciate it more but because I knew good marks were the key to my mom's sexuality. Unlike my past behavior, now, I didn't put off my assignments but did them as soon as they were assigned. I made a point of studying each day. Soon my marks reflected my efforts and as usual, success bred success. My mom helped a lot, for although she wasn't lavish with her praise, she freely used her body to reinforce the idea that excellence brought its rewards. One of my favorite rewards she used frequently. Mom would have me flat on my back straddling my face so I could see her hairy pussy about a foot above me, and through the veil of her pubic hair, I would look up her belly to her tits dangling above. Slowly, to begin with, she would finger herself, starting her lubricity, spreading it over her genitals, covering herself in her slime until her clit and labia were slippery with her own exudate. Her genitalia would swell exposing her inner blood engorged labia succulent with her dew, fat and ready for me to suckle. Soon some of her special moistness would slide down her thighs. It was then we both knew she was ready. 

Mom would reach down, grab my head with both hands and pull my head up hard against her slimy wet crotch thrusting her cunt vigorously against my nose and tongue, her inner lips kissing me. Her tits would flop about, her back arch as her body humped for climax. As her orgasm took her she exuded, a thick bounteous cum that coated my throat, forcing me to swallow the rich flow. Mom knew how addicted I was to her juices. The moment her flow diminished she would move her genitals down my body until she was able to cock herself, jamming her cunt down hard over my rampant prong, sometimes we fucked, other times her ass would bounce occasionally maintaining my hardness as she lay on top of me stuffed full. 

Our second year began with my winning a scholarship to university and my mother deciding that she was going to start exercising. My mom, not one to do things by halves, joined and aerobics class, a gym where she lifted free weights, and a fitness center where she used a variety of exercise machines. As the months passed my scholastic endeavors continued to improve as my mother continued to apply her particular reward all over my face and my addiction to her taste continued to grow. 

The changes in my mom were far more gradual but change she did. Her thighs that had previously behaved like jelly when she moved tightened and grew more muscular. They would never be the thin sticks of a model, but they became sexually appealing capable of driving her pelvis upwards or clamping my head tightly to her throbbing loins. Her buttocks developed a muscular weight that rounded them, filling her jeans with attractive feminine flesh. The spare tire that had surrounded her middle causing her belly to droop over her pubic hair and enlarged her ass disappeared. The dimples on the upward sweep of her bottom reappeared. Although her breasts tightened but a little, I had grown to like the sway of their pendulous weight as we fucked and would no longer have enjoyed the tight smaller orbs of a younger woman. In short, my mom was not only the most sensuous of woman but now her healthy body increased her sexuality as well. It was as though the honeymoon stage of our relationship had resumed, my mom's stamina greatly increased, our fucking more frenzied and more frequent. 

By the beginning of the third year of our relationship, I was on the dean's list third in my class, my mother trim and tight, easily satiating my cardinal lusts. I complimented her on her success with her various exercises, only to be told that she still had not accomplished what she had set out to do. Unbeknownst to me my mom spent long hours in the showers of the various clubs she had joined checking out the young girls that exercised with her. I didn't know that my mom was looking for some young pussy that she could sample. I suppose the only redeeming feature of her search was she was very particular as to what she wanted. 

Mom also slowly changed the clothes she wore. Gone were the jeans and plaid shirts. Now she seemed to wear clothing that clung to her body. I remember particularly one pair of slacks made of a material that seemed to mold itself to her body showing off her bottom to perfection delineating each buttock with a soft clingy covering. I would often get hard watching her bottom twitch and loved rubbing my hands over the material. She began to wear more feminine blouses, many of which opened enough to show her magnificent cleavage to its full advantage. I thought that these changes were to entice me, which they did, but I didn't know she had a ulterior motive. 

Finally half way through the third year while showering one day mom looked up to see a young lady, about half her age saunter into the shower room. She was obviously comfortable in her nudity, an attitude that mom liked. Mom watched her as she turned on a shower and began to soap. She looked up and noticed mom was watching her and gave mom a gentle smile. The kind that said I think I like you too. In many ways, she was a younger copy of my mom. Wide of hip, thick and muscular of thigh, prominent shapely ass, and an exceedingly hairy muff, which she half heartily trimmed around the edges, over all, extremely attractive to my mom. On her chest hung two heavy globes of flesh, already pendulous by weight which mom enjoyed watching knock about as she soaped. The woman seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time washing her pussy so mom, who had already washed hers decided to wash it again matching the young lady stroke for stroke. Then mom stepped it up a notch and began blatantly fingering her clit. The young lady, not to be out done, not only matched her actions, but also with the other hand played with one of her nipples. 

Mom stepped forward wanting to be a little more intimate until she realized they were in a public place where another woman could walk in on them at anytime. Instead, mom asked her for a cup of coffee. The young lady smiled and said, "I'd like that very much." They soon were sitting in a secluded portion of a coffee shop where they could talk. 

Mom said, "my names Judy what's yours?"

"Laura," she replied

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you Laura," said mom. "I hope you realize just how attractive I find you."

"Oh I think we established how attractive we found each other in the shower," observed Laura. "After all we were pretty blatant as to what we'd like to do."

"Laura, to be honest with you I'm unsure. Up to this point I have been a steadfast heterosexual, but in your case I think I would like to be bi. However, again being honest, I have to tell you if you're a lesbian I'm not interested. I simply couldn't find a female without a craving for the male appendage attractive," said mom.

Laura laughed bitterly and responded, "I just went through a miserable breakup with a very definite male and yes I love cock!" Here, apparently Laura blushed. "I hope I haven't offended you using such vulgar language.

"Not at all," replied mom, resting her hand on top of Laura's, "you simply said it like it is. There's nothing I like better than being cocked."

"Cocked?" Questioned the curious Laura. 

"Yes, having my cunt stuffed so full of cock I can't get another millimeter of hard male flesh in" laughed mom.

"Oooh, that sounds sooo good," giggled Laura. "I'd enjoy a good cocking too."

"Well then Laura everything you say and do turn me on and I'd like to get to know you better, in every sense of the word," stated mom as usual showing no prevarication.

Maybe it's because of the breakup I just went through I find the thought of a female interesting, but I don't think so. I feel if we had meet at any time in my life I would have liked you and been interested, it's that at the moment I'm unattached so I can allow myself the pleasure." Said Laura. 

"Since you told me about your current status, I feel I have to confess mine as well. I'm very much attached to a male at the moment and don't see any dissolution of that arrangement anytime soon. If you don't mind working around that situation, there's a hotel just down the block and I'd like to book us a room. I'm sorry there's so little romance in my proposal but I'm so totally aroused I need to find out if I will enjoy you're taste.

"Let's go!" cried Laura, "the shower was more than enough romance. She grabbed her purse and headed out of the coffee shop. Her enthusiasm was infectious and mom hurried to follow her with a mixture of fear and need, but not enough fear to dry her pussy or stop her nipples from becoming achingly erect. 

They soon found themselves behind a locked hotel room door staring at each other suddenly shy even though they had seen all of each other's charms in the shower. In fact, those charms had led directly to their present situation. Mom, with her heart beating rapidly and her mouth dry, finally began to undo the buttons of Laura's blouse revealing the huge cleavage between Laura's heavy tits. The moment that one of Laura's breasts flopped from her bra signaled a frantic, almost hysterical removal of clothing. Both pussies hot with need, juiced as clothing flew about the room. They stood staring at each other stark naked for a second, before their bodies clashed together like two wrestlers grappling for control. A sexually demanding struggle, before mom was able to throw the sexual feminine hot wet flesh to the bed and begin Laura's ravishment. The two women licked the perspiration from each other's bodies reveling in each other's mammary flesh, groping hot wet hairy twats, smearing each other's slimy sticky exudate over each other's bodies. They used the same exudate to probe each other's anuses with stiffened fingers. Each attempting to prolong the moment they both craved as they thoroughly felt each other up.

Finally, mom turned in the bed and straddled Laura's head, her hot hairy pussy seeking the soft wet tongue. She lowered her own head towards the hairy nest between Laura's succulent thighs, when the odorous musky heat of an aroused wet female assailed her nostrils. For a moment she balked, realizing this was a female she was about to become so intimate with. Then the smell reminded her of my hardness just after it was dipped in her own cavity. She knew she loved that taste and consequently renewed her resolve to pleasure this sexy woman lying beneath her. Just then, a warm wet tongue penetrated her swollen sex sending shivers of lust through her body as Laura's hands gripped her ass and pulled her juicy pungent puss tight to her mouth. As her own lust, for a hot tongue pervaded her body, mom returned the favor driving her own tongue deep within the confines of Laura's sexy folds. The tasty exudate that coated her tongue sealed the death knell of any resistance she felt towards the tasting of female flesh. 

On the contrary, her tongue now coaxed the thrusting pussy to give up more of it tasty product, enjoying the salty slime that slid down her throat. Laura's response was animalistic; her body thrashing around under moms' searching tongue. Humping and heaving as multiple climaxes racked her convulsing body, almost spraying moms' tongue with her juices. Mom enjoyed Laura's sexual fervor and returned it with an ardor of her own. Mom's own hand gripped bum humping and heaving, thrusting her sopping wet swollen genitalia against the vacuuming mouth flooding it with her salty mucus. After a while, the energetic response waned as they exhausted each other with rippling spasms of climatic seizures. 

Mom, her body still quivering from an excess of lust, turned once again in the bed and took Laura in her arms, kissing her gently, making sure their large breasts were squashed together. Each had a hand on the other's ass, pressing their pelvises together their thighs intertwined as they still humped their pussies against each other. Both still seeking release from their need of each other, but instead sexually bonding. As they rubbed their hot lubricious succulence over each other's thighs, their kisses became more frantic, until once again their bodies shuddered and shook, releasing them momentarily from their wantonness. 

Mom was shocked at how much she had enjoyed playing with a female and was sure she had finally found the right woman for her needs. It had been a long search but mom was satisfied a successful one. She gave Laura one final kiss and told her she had to go, but if Laura was willing they would met at the same place and time tomorrow. Laura's wholehearted, excited response waylaid any worries mom felt. As they dressed to leave mom once again admired the broad child bearing hips, curvaceous ass, hairy pubes and the magnificent dangly breasts that bounced and swayed with every movement Laura made. 

When I got home that night my mom was literally lying in wait for me. Within a few minutes of my walking in the door, my clothes were off and I was flat on my back my cock in my mother's mouth. I, of course, didn't know what had gone on that day or what had brought this on. All I knew was my cock was where it belonged and my mom couldn't seem to get enough of it. She sucked me until I was about to cum then used me like a paint sprayer spraying herself with my spermy sticky spew, rubbing it into her face, boobs and belly. But that was not enough! Mom waited until I was hard again and sucked me once more this time allowing me to fill her mouth with my creamy spend. She then kissed me, her tongue pushing some of my spunk into my mouth. 

But that still wasn't enough and we sixty-nined for close to an hour before I was hard enough to cock her. Mom needed that cocking like never before. Wriggling about on the bed, her loins demanding, thrusting, heaving, till she was stuffed with cock. She squirmed my cock into herself, and it maybe my imagination, but I think she managed to get a little more in than she had ever before. Then with a large sigh of contentment, she lay on top of me absolutely stuffed with man meat almost purring like a cat. Her quim began a continuous squeezing, keeping my prick in a constant state of aching, skin-stretching, blood filled hardness as the mucus membranes of her hot wet pussy rippled over my rock hard cock. It was almost as though she was feeling me up using her pussy alone as her source of information. A confirmation that she was indeed full of my cock. 

An hour past while she kept herself crammed full, and then suddenly she exploded fucking, humping, heaving, jamming my cock into herself. Gasping for breath, grunting with effort, perspiration breaking out over her withering body as she worked my sex. Her cunt holding me tight with muscular contractions that seemed to squirt more of her lubrication over my pistoning cock. The flowing juices allowing me to move within the confines of her contracting muscular pussy. This time she demanded the spermy spew deep in her body. No longer able to withstand her unusual assault, I obliged, spurting rope after rope, creaming her with my essence, my body out of control, completely overwhelmed by my mother's requirements. Her own body responding to my spastic spew, shuddering with orgasmic bliss, with each new spurt , her groans of ecstasy ringing in my ears. 

It wasn't until years latter she confessed why she had been so libidinous that night. I remember she asked me if I remembered that night, if it stood out in my mind, which it certainly did. She then told me that was the day she had first made love to Laura. Mom had enjoyed her first foray with a female so much she had frightened herself, worrying if she was a closet lesbian. That night, as far as she was concerned, proved her needful requirements of a hard male cock. She was at her most libidinous when a cock spewed its' creamy goodness over or in her body. No wet pussy, as far as she was concerned, would ever be able to match a cocks' feel and flavor as it spit.