Thy Neighbor's Wife
(and Other Sins)
A Fantasy
by
Copyright 2001 © Richard O Steele. All rights reserved
Chapter 33
The next day was Peter's fourth in a row of trying to make contact with Lakisha. Peter still could not get a rise out of the ultra-buxom little whore's cell phone. Her damned mailbox was still full so Peter was unable to communicate the increasing worry he was experiencing. Frankly, he was really starting to get frantic! He had promised himself he would call the police if he could not reach her that day; however, he granted himself a fifth day. Doing so was cowardly but....
On that fifth day, however, she actually answered! "Hiya, baby," she breezily answered. "I's sorry I be so un-a-vail-able but it jus' be one of them things."
"Honey, I was getting frantic! I tried calling Sodom and Gomorrah and they told me you had quit! Are you okay?"
"Oh, yeah, baby, I's just fine! I did quit that ol' place. Tired o' that shit! Sho' enough! 'Fact, I needs to talk to you 'bout that. 'Bout things in general. Kin we get together, baby?"
"Of course! When?"
"Well, how's 'bout tomorrow? Like at noon?"
Peter mentally reviewed his schedule. "Noon tomorrow will be fine. Same place, right?"
"No, Jimmy, not the same place at all. Fancy place, instead. How 'bout the Four Seasons?"
"The Four Seasons? Lakisha! I thought you were worried about getting into places like that. Plus it's probably the most expensive place in town!"
"I yousta be 'fraid ta go there! But no mo'! 'Sides, I's payin' for the room this time, too! This one be on me, baby!"
Peter was flabbergasted. What the hell was going on here? "Okay, if you're sure."
"Oh, I's sure, all right! You call me on this cell phone jus' 'fore noon, I tell you what suite we be in. Okay, baby?"
"Um ... yeah ... I guess...." Peter replied helplessly.
It was an easy walk from Peter's office to the Four Seasons at Logan Circle. He called Lakisha's cell phone number from a pay phone en route. She was as good as her word — she answered on the first ring.
"Baby, I be in the William Penn suite. It be on the top floor. See you soon, Jimmy!"
After two soft taps on the door and enough time for the buxom little girl to check him out through the peephole, the door opened. And there she was! The door opened onto an elegantly furnished parlor. Lakisha had on an outfit he had never seen before. It screamed "Expensive!" as in "I just dropped a bundle at Knit Wits on Walnut Street". The youngster's chic ensemble featured a coral colored raw silk blouse. It was unquestionably very pricey. The blouse also looked extremely sexy because the top three buttons were unbuttoned so that her unimaginably deep cleavage was on full display. From the way her more than enormous puppies were hanging down to her waist, it was pretty clear that Lakisha had not bothered to wear a bra today.
The outlandishly buxom little girl was wearing an extremely short skirt that, notwithstanding its tartish length — it barely covered her snatch — also looked expensive. She also had on hose and heels — four-inch heels at least. All in all, the youngster still looked like a whore; it was simply that now she looked like a $2,000-a-date "companion" instead of an everyday $225 a trick hooker. Lakisha, it was plain, had come way up in the world, and had done so in the less than two weeks that had elapsed since Peter had last seen her! What was going on?
The little kid wobbled uncertainly over to Peter on her high heels. She seemed to be looking at him a little wistfully. "Umm ... you look so fine, Jimmy," she breathed.
"You too, baby," Peter replied.
The overly buxom prostitute then got a very sad look on her face. "So fine," Lakisha continued, "that it be a real shame we got to stop hangin' together. But that be the truth!"
Peter's jaw, which had just returned to its normal position after dropping in amazement at (a) the sight of an expensively turned-out Lakisha in (b) a Four Seasons suite, suddenly dropped again — this time with even greater force. Did he really hear what he thought he had just heard? That Lakisha was actually threatening to drop him instead of vice versa? Peter shook his head in amazement. Yep — that's what he had heard, all right. The busty little tart was actually breaking up with him! Amazing! He had been rehearsing the lines to his script all day and suddenly he was the one being dropped. It was going to make things easier to be sure but events certainly was not playing out as Peter had anticipated!
"We've got to stop seeing each other? Really?" Peter sputtered. Even though this surprising turn of events was really going to make things a whole lot easier, Peter had to admit that he felt a twinge at being rejected. It was illogical but, still, there it was!
"Yep. That be the truth," Lakisha intoned. "But I gots to explain. It ain't because you isn't as handsome as can be or ain't a great lover. Hmmm, baby — you be all of them things! Sure is!"
"What then?" Peter asked.
"I gots me a new boyfriend," Lakisha said, "and he don't want me to see nobody but him. Nobody! He be real clear on that! So I gotta do what I gotta do."
That made sense to Peter. But this guy must be loaded to float Lakisha's wardrobe and the cost of the suite, which Peter assumed had to be on the boyfriend's tab. "He must be one rich dude," Peter opined.
"Oh, he be that, all right," the big-chested girl replied, a swelling of pride in her voice. "He be real famous, too." The curvy youngster then paused for dramatic effect. "He be Kenyatta Jones, that who he be!"
Holy Jesus! Lakisha had hooked up with Kenyatta Jones, the famous (and infamous) bad-boy, thuggish, NBA most-valuable basketball player for the Philadelphia 76ers. He was about as antisocial as one could be and still live in non-penal society but he made some $10,000,000.00 a year! And Jones had beckoned a finger to the giant-bosomed girl. No wonder Lakisha was dumping him for the rich basketball player! Who could blame her! Yet the news filled Peter with alarm. Lakisha was getting into some deep doo-doo with which she was not even minimally prepared to deal. This girl was making a mistake!
"Honey, that's great!" Peter enthused — vocally that is. Inwardly, though, he could feel his sense of alarm growing and growing. The alarm bells were ringing. This new relationship was going to solve his problem but what it was going to do for Lakisha was another matter altogether. Jones was a snarly brute who had actually been sentenced to prison for assault while still in high school. The governor had pardoned him so he could go to college. To say he was not the college type is to engage in serious understatement. He lasted two tumultuous years at Georgetown and then went pro. He was famous for living with a group of homeboys from his Tidewater Virginia hometown who were even more sociopathic than he! How on earth would Lakisha fare in an atmosphere like that?
"How did you two meet?" he asked.
"Well, Kenyatta and his homies wanted some girls to party with. They called lots o' places like Sodom and Gomorrah and reserved 'bout a dozen foxy girls for the evening. Second I showed up, Kenyatta gets on my case. Turns out he really likes real big tits. After we been fuckin' all night he decides he likes all of me. Axes me to move in wif him. I says yes. He fixes me up with new clothes — a big allowance, too. He be soooo sweet!"
"I shouldn't say anything, baby, but from what I hear he can be kind of mean and nasty!"
"Oh, that be what people say but it ain't true. Kenyatta jus' a sweet little boy. He got a real good heart. He jus' be misunderstood, thas all. That other stuff just be shit from peoples who be jealous of my man Kenyatta. No, he be kind 'n sweet 'n gentle."
"Is he a good lover?" Peter ventured. He decided to take a pass on mentioning that Kenyatta Jones was known to have fathered six children with six different women, all before he turned 25! And those were just the ones who had filed suit for support to date! God alone knew how many additional fruits of his loins were out there waiting to have similar action taken on their behalf!
Lakisha smiled. "He gots a big thin' 'tween his legs, thas for sure! Nothin' like yours, Jimmy, but then nobody gots a thing like yours. It be plenty big, though." Lakisha then got a serious look on her face. "Thing is, he can't fuck for long, leastwise with me. He stick it in, take about six strokes, and then shoots his spunk all over inside me. Says he can't hold it 'cause I be so beautiful and got such big tits. Then I gots to look after my own self 'cause Kenyatta can't be bothered to make sure I git my rocks off! Once he done, he got places to go and people to meet!" The impossibly buxom kid sighed and then smiled. "Thas all right — I teach my Kenyatta how to fuck for hours 'fore we be through!"
"How about his friends, though? They're supposed to be very bad guys. Does he expect you to make love with them?"
Lakisha cackled. "No way! I be Kenyatta's woman! His homeboys don't dare touch me — Kenyatta never stand fo' that!" The buxom tart then smiled shyly, "Be a shame in a way 'cause one o' them homies — Rico be the dude's name — be really, really cute. 'Fact, we be eyein' each other. A whole lot! But that be a big no-no! Fer sure!"
"Is it all right for you to be here?" Peter inquired.
"Oh, yeah! Kenyatta, he say it be OK for us to say goodbye so long as there be no fuckin' goin' on." The little tart looked up into Peter's eyes with a saucy smile. "Kenyatta even say I kin give you a goodbye kiss!"
Peter smiled. Inwardly, though, he was starting to get a bit wary. This goodbye session was starting to get a bit more complicated than he had anticipated! "And did Kenyatta actually pay for this suite?" Peter found it hard to believe a guy in Kenyatta's position would actually do that!
"Well, sorta," Lakisha allowed. "It really be my idea, though. I wants ta have our goodbyes in a nice spot, not that shithole on Tasker Street." Peter grimaced; he thought the Tasker Arms was a good idea under the circumstances! Oh, well! "Kenyatta keep lots of envelopes 'n shit full o' money all over the penthouse," Lakisha went on. "Jus' thousands of bucks! He don't even know how much scratch he got layin' aroun'. I jus' grab some and use it to rent this place. He never gonna miss it." The buxom little girl giggled. "I thought the reservation clerk gonna shit when I come up to the desk but she rent it to me alright when she see the green. She be a sister so she understand. It was cool."
Lakisha then took the few remaining steps that separated her from Peter. She leaned into her lover and squashed her huge, huge breasts up against his chest in the process. No sooner had the buxom little girl's massive tits began to pillow against his chest, stomach, and groin that Peter's cock started seriously to engorge. "I can't believe I ain't gonna be yo' baby doll no more! I's gonna miss that real, real bad, baby!"
Lakisha was now really pushing hard against his trunk. She had begun to rub her gigantic milkers from side to side against Peter's body. She looked up and said, "I's jus' goin' ta miss you somethin' awful, baby! It be terrible!" She then got a sexy, pouty look on her gorgeous face. "How's about that goodbye kiss? Maybe that make me feel better 'bout this!" The stunningly beautiful, overly built teenager looked up at her lover with real passion. Her thick, thick lips were so glossy, so juicy! "Kiss me, baby!" she moaned. The unimaginably buxom little girl twisted her trunk to the left a bit so that her massive tits would not get in the way of their kiss.
This was decidedly not the way Peter had intended for this session to go. Yet the proximity of Lakisha's bloated wedges of hot lip flesh was too stirring to avoid. One goodbye kiss would be OK!
As the little girl strained up and Peter dipped down, their eager, hungry lips met. The contact was electric! They were soon rubbing their hot lips against each other with real force. Seconds later, their mouths had simultaneously sagged wide-open and Peter's long tongue was searching the insides of Lakisha's sweet mouth!
Their lips passionately slipped and slid against each other. Their tongues lashed. The swollen thickness of the little girl's lips was so astonishingly arousing that Peter could feel pre-cum leaking out of his cock hole. Soon both Peter and Lakisha were groaning with passion. The little parlor was echoing with the slurping sounds of their deep French kissing. This was not, was not, what either of them had in mind for their leave-taking! Peter then reflected for a moment. Well, he concluded, it was not what he planned for the little session at any rate!
Peter soon found that his right hand had unaccountably gravitated to Lakisha's skirt. In fact, it had roamed under her skirt! He was frantically cupping and squeezing the little girl's hot, tight ass cheeks. She did not seem to be wearing panties. What an astonishing body she had! God, he was going to miss it! In commemoration of that fact, Peter switched from thrusting his tongue deep into the giant-breasted youngster's mouth and to sucking wildly on her amazingly fat, protruding lower lip. He repeated the procedure on her obese upper lip. Then, his moaning becoming louder and more frantic, Peter ran the tip of his tongue along the full length of the buxom youngster's upper gum line. And then her lower gum line. What a way to say goodbye!
The kiss finally broke. "Less sit on the couch, honey, so we's kin keep on goin' with this goodbye kiss. It be so excitin'!"
The couple took a few steps back and sank down onto the couch. They were soon not only wildly French kissing but also pawing and even mauling their aroused bodies. Peter had begun almost immediately to cup Lakisha's massive left tit while the unimaginably busty kid had reached down to rub and squeeze Peter's granite-like cock.
As Peter rubbed and squeezed the giant tit, his state of tumescence reached almost impossible levels. He was so hot! The lovers' mouths were open to the breaking point and rivulets of spit were coursing down their faces and necks. Some goodbye kiss!
Lakisha broke the kiss. "Baby, less go into the bedroom. My tits be leakin' love juice 'n I doan want to ruin this nice new blouse. Plus, kissin' be more fun if we takes our clothes off. Thas for sure!"
Peter got up off the couch. His hands were frantically roaming all over Lakisha's fabulous body as the giant-breasted little girl took to her feet. He purposefully walked behind her to the bedroom, marveling each step of the way at the fantastic way her perfect little rump rocked and rolled in response to her every step. The fact that her skirt barely covered her ass cheeks made things even more exciting. Lakisha was swinging her booty as if it were mounted on ball bearings. Her colossal tits were highly noticeable from the rear; the way they quivered and jiggled, as the overdeveloped youngster bopped along, was almost terminally exciting. What a fucking piece of ass she was! Kenyatta Jones was one lucky fellow. Peter only hoped that the callow young fellow realized it — and then acted accordingly! If what he read in the papers was true, however, the chances of that happening were slim and none!
Once they were in the bedroom, Peter and Lakisha started to lose control. Peter knew this was crazy but he also knew he could not help himself. For this one last time, he was finding Lakisha's charms irresistible.
The lovers hurriedly started to undress each other. They simply could not get their clothes off fast enough; the two were so hot for each other's bare skin! Their hands were just flying!
Rolling down the buxom little girl's pantyhose was especially exciting. Peter spent an inordinate amount of time licking and kissing her sweet pussy after pulling the pantyhose down over her incredibly curved rump — he just could not help himself! The buxom youngster came at least twice while Peter's long, snaky tongue was exploring the drenched interior of her cunt.
"Kenyatta only say no fuckin'," Lakisha whispered softly. "I think that mean we kin do 'bout anythin' else we wants. Like that dinin' at the "Y" shit — it be so exciting! This got to be our last time, Jimmy, so we jus' got to get some serious lovin' done here! Jus got to!"
The lovers were soon nude. They sprawled out on the bed and began passionately to embrace, fondle, and soul kiss. The buxom little girl had both her hands around Peter's giant cock. He was so stiff, though, that the kid's stretched-out fingers could not meet around the massive cylinder — Peter's dick was just too thick for that!
Necessarily using both hands, Peter had started to squeeze and fondle Lakisha's massive left tit ... and then her equally outsized right breast. He felt so guilty — this was not supposed to happen at all. Yet it was happening and Peter seemed helpless to do anything about it. As a result, their kiss went on and on in counterpoint to this increasingly passionate fondling and petting.
Lakisha then pulled away from the kiss and began to shower little kisses up and down the improbable length of Peter's mule-sized cock. "Shit!" she said, "That two-face Clinton dude get his cock sucked by that Monica bitch and then he say he don't make love to her 'cause cocksucking ain't sex-u-al re-la-tions! Shit! I guess that mean I kin suck my Jimmy's big ol' cock, don't it? Cocksuckin' sure ain't fucking, is it, baby?"
With those words, the thick-lipped beauty abruptly went down on Peter's straining member. Her swollen, bloated lips silkily slid up and down on his taut cockskin. She was really going deep this time; clearly, the little girl was becoming more adept in her cocksucking.
Lakisha had also stuck out her long tongue so that the flat of that organ was sliding up and down Peter's love sword in tandem with her bloated lips. Drool was pouring out of the buxom youngster's slack mouth as she bobbed up and down on the huge dick; Peter's cockskin was getting very shiny and slippery as a result. What's more, his public hair was beginning to get very wet from the streams of saliva that were running down his cock into the base of his oversized shaft.
The unimaginably buxom teenager then pulled her bulbous lips off Peter's now-purple cock. She made a gentle sucking sound, drew her cheeks in, and then opened her luscious mouth. A huge clot of drool suddenly cascaded from between her swollen lips and splashed all over Peter's giant cock head. A fraction of a second later, the stream of creamy saliva was running down the taut skin of his throbbing shaft. Peter's cock had never been so slippery! Man! Somewhere along the way, this little girl had become a pro!
The huge-chested whore was now bobbing up and down the cock at a very high rate of speed. The sucking sounds from the blowjob were bouncing off the bedroom walls. What's more, her little hands were expertly manipulating the cockskin on the lower portion of the shaft to which, on account of its heroic length, Lakisha's fat lips and wet mouth could not go.
Peter had started in response to moan — this was getting so exciting! He was, in fact, very much in danger of shooting his load — and at any second, too! But this was not how Peter wanted the encounter, indeed the relationship, to end. That is, he had not intended for there to be any sex at all but since things had not turned out quite that way, he had decided that a tit fuck would offer the best way to say "goodbye" to this unbelievably exciting little girl. This was clearly a case of in for a dime, in for a dollar!
Peter could tell that Lakisha was eager for him to spew torrents of spunk down her throat. Not this time, though. He gently lifted her bobbing head off his granite-hard cock with a loud "pop."
"Whas a matter, baby?" asked the ultra-voluptuous teenage whore. Her thick wet lips actually looked as if they had gotten even more swollen in the process of sucking on Peter's big dick.
"Since this is our last time, I want to fuck your titties 'n then come all over them," Peter announced.
"Thas sounds mighty fine to me, lover," Lakisha responded. She promptly lay down on her back so that Peter could do just that!
The overly buxom little girl's tits were so huge! As she lay on her back, the two mind-boggling mounds of tit meat completely covered her chest, stomach, and groin. They slopped over her sides on the bedspread as well; Lakisha's colossal bosom was a whole lot wider than her trunk!
Peter crawled on his hands and knees until he was near her snatch. His titanium hard cock was ardently waving in the air ... he was so horny!
He shoved his trembling hands under Lakisha's giant milkers and, using his palms and splayed fingers as scoops, lifted up and then squashed the enormous jugs into the equivalent of much larger than regulation basketballs.
By shoving them upwards, Peter was then able to mount the buxom little girl at the waist. He then reached down and began wildly to grab tit. His hands frantically pummeled and mauled the shockingly large appendages of flesh. He then leaned down and began frantically to lick Lakisha's huge areolae and then to suck avidly on her erect nipples.
Peter then flat licked the huge tits. All over! He paid particular attention to their inner portion at the cleavage where his totally erect cock was soon going to be slipping and sliding. Lick and squeeze, tongue and rub. Peter, who had intended to end the relationship with a handshake, was spinning out of control. He was moaning at the top of his lungs with unimaginable need and wild desire.
When Lakisha's firm, teenaged tit flesh was totally slippery and shiny from his saliva, Peter straightened up and slipped his stallion-like cock inside the deep, deep cleavage between the little girl's mega tits. With a deep passionate grunt, he began to fuck the giant hooters.
As he did so, the two lovers, as if in an unspoken partnership, sunk their four hands into the sides of Lakisha's tits and squeezed the giant hangers toward the center of her body. With her gigantic bosom squished together in this way, the two massive globes had gotten so compressed and distended that the youngster's gorgeous face was nearly obscured by the stupendous mass of tit flesh that was sitting atop her body. In this position her massive jugs were the size of beach balls! Big beach balls!
Lakisha's breasts were so huge and long that when Peter's shaft was fully buried in her bosom, all sixteen inches of cock were meeting the thrilling resistance of her taut, slick tit flesh. It was so exciting! On account of the way in which Peter's cockskin was getting rasped and rubbed by the pushed-together mountains of Lakisha's tit flesh, he knew this was not going to be a long goodbye!
Exciting too was the sight of the unimaginably buxom little girl's tits and the way they quivered and jiggled uncontrollably in response to Peter's frantic tit-fucking. They were shaking like giant bowls of pudding!
Even though the little girl's pushed-together tits were covering nearly all of her face, she was still able to lick her lover's cockhead and shaft as it zoomed back and forth through her cleavage. The thrilling feel of Lakisha's wet tongue against Peter's thrusting shaft was nearly too much to bear!
After about thirty minutes of this passionate tit fucking, it became way too much to bear. Peter began to grunt and groan uncontrollably as a monster cum began to take control of his entire being. Ugh! Uh! Ugh! Ugh! UGH! This fucking cum was so strong!
Peter's head was thrown back in helpless surrender to the overpowering authority of his orgasm. The corners of his mouth were pulled back in a veritable frenzy. Unimaginably strong thrills and chills were coursing up and down his body.
After about thirty seconds of this spine-tingling pleasure, Peter felt a powerful surge of creamy jism explode out of his cockhole. Jesus! The long rope of boiling rich semen slammed across the bed as if shot from a rifle and spattered up against the wall. He could actually hear it hit the wallpaper! It was followed by one more violent blast of spunk after another. They just would not stop!
Finally, the eruptions took on shorter and shorter trajectories. The last dozen of so discharges landed on the little girl's gorgeous face. When Peter's ejaculations finally came to an end, that beautiful face was entirely hidden by layers of hot, creamy sperm. Lakisha could pull the seed out of a guy — that was for sure!
Just for old time's sake, Peter lay down beside the giant-titted youngster and began to tongue the layers of semen off her face. Of course, each lick alternated with an all-enveloping French kiss. After some twenty minutes of this face licking, wild soul kissing, and lip sucking, all of the male seed — probably a cup of it at least! — had disappeared into the lovers' stomachs.
Lakisha looked up with a beatific smile on her face. "Thas was so fine, Jimmy, sweetheart! An' we don't even break any o' Kenyatta's dumb ol' rules!"
Peter was by no means sure of that! What's more, he was sure he had broken nearly all of his own resolutions! He had intended to break up with Julie and Lakisha in a way that affirmed his fidelity to Amanda. He had managed the task with Julie. But with Lakisha? Well, so much for that! At least he was ending the affair with the much too busty little whore. He could say that much! Perhaps the certainty of the end could counterbalance the weakness of the flesh that had informed the process! Still, Peter felt miserably guilty about the weakness of his flesh.
Lakisha walked Peter to the door — in the nude! Her colossal breasts hung down in the neighborhood of her upper thighs. Amazing! Amanda certainly had a huge pair of milkers — at least for now! — but with the possible exception of Julie, Lakisha's mega-tits just had to be the biggest anywhere. Unless, Peter realized with a start, her momma or sister had even bigger ones! "Well," Peter said to himself, "I'll never know the answer to that one! What I do know," he added, "is that Lakisha's milkers are truly mind-boggling!"
Peter and Lakisha embraced and kissed at the front door of the suite for a full sixty seconds. Their mouths opened and closed against each other like beached fish. The memory of this ultra-passionate kiss along with the erotic press of her gigantic bosom against his body was going to resonate in his memory for a long, long time, Peter knew! The fact that there ain't gonna be no more was making the kiss all the more frantic!
"I gonna miss you, baby!" she announced dreamily. "Big time!" Then, with a smile she added. "If you wants, call my number in a few months. You never know — maybe we find a way to get together, have, you know, a reunion, like. I probably be ready for some real fuckin' by then! Real ready!"
Peter sighed inwardly. This was all-too-typical teenage behavior. Peter had certainly enjoyed being with Lakisha today — on a physical level at least! After all, a tit-fuck of what might be proportionally the biggest tits anywhere has to be an experience to savor, even if it was simultaneously something to feel guilty about. A moment's reflection told Peter that Lakisha was going to cheat on Kenyatta down the road. Even the luxury of life with the young mega-millionaire was not going to suffice for the fact that his lovemaking was perfunctory and self-centered. Things would fall into a velvet rut and the mega-breasted little kid was going to get bored. She was going to find out — hell, she seemed to know already! — that she badly needed the intensive kind of loving she had been getting from Peter. Soon enough, Peter realized, she was going to go looking for that sort of satisfaction in a place other than Kenyatta Jones' bed. Peter shook his head once again. That day was going to be trouble! Big trouble!
After he left the Four Seasons, Peter's post-coital guilt started to mount. The sex had been thrilling but once his sexual needs were satisfied, a whole lot of guilt came bubbling up to the surface. In fact, it was growing larger by the minute! Upon finding the card from Toni, Peter had pledged undying fealty to Amanda. And now this!
The despondent fellow wandered aimlessly around the Logan Circle area. At length, he found himself at the corner of 20th and Cherry, where he noticed a beautiful gothic church. He had stumbled upon St Clement's Church. It was an Episcopal church, Peter's denomination. It was a very different sort of Episcopal church, though, an uncompromising Anglo-Catholic Parish complete with smells and bells.
Peter felt a strong need to pray. He found the door open, walked in, noted the faint smell of incense in the air, and knelt in a pew to ask for forgiveness for this lapse and all the lapses that preceded it.
As he stood to leave he noticed a bank of confessionals in the back of the church. Of course. St Clement's practiced individual confession instead of the congregational confession provided in the prayer book communion service.
Peter then noticed a tall, black priest in a cassock and biretta standing near the confessional. He had not noticed the man when he had come in; perhaps the priest had heard the creaking of the door to the narthex and had come into the nave to see who had entered the church.
The priest smiled. "I'm Father Winn," he announced. "I'm the curate here at St Clement's."
"I'm Peter," Peter replied simply.
"Were you here simply to pray or did you come to make your confession?"
"Of course!" Peter said to himself! That was precisely what he needed. A confession! Even though he had attended Episcopal churches his entire life, and although he and Amanda attended Trinity Church in Swarthmore nearly every Sunday, he had never confessed individually. This was clearly a time to start! He could go back home tonight cleansed, with a clean slate! "I want to make my confession, Father," he answered.
As they walked to the confessional, the two chatted briefly. Peter noticed that Father Wynn had sort of a mincing step. His speech patterns evidenced a slight lisp and a definitely effeminate inflection. Peter suddenly realized that Father Winn must be gay! Peter was suddenly struck by the realization that the priest's sexual preference was perfect for his purposes. He would be confessing to a priest for whom the sensual aspects of his sins would have no emotional or distractive effect whatever! Perfect!
"Father, forgive me, for I have sinned."
"Are they primarily sins of the flesh, or of the spirit, Peter?" Father Winn asked.
Peter almost chuckled. "Both, really, Father ... but especially sins of the flesh. Oh, yes, definitely sins of the flesh! Especially that!"
"When was your last confession?"
"Individually? Never! Corporately, by participating in the General Confession last Sunday. But I'm not sure I really, really confessed for those sins in the spirit they truly deserve."
"Tell me about them, then, Peter."
"Well, I consorted with prostitutes, father."
"Hmmm. How many?"
"Well, one ... maybe two, depending upon your definition. Maybe three, actually."
"What does that mean?" the confessor demanded.
"Well, one of them was a prostitute, for sure. The other only gave me, well, a manual release, but it was in exchange for money. That was in England. And the other was really more of a girl friend. She's here in Philadelphia."
"Hmmm. Are you married, Peter?"
"Yes, Father."
"Children?"
"Yes, Father. Two. Twin girls."
"How old?"
"About nine weeks old, Father."
"Hmmm. How many times did you see these women?"
"The manual release one? Once."
"And the other one? Or ones?"
"The prostitute? About two dozen times, Father."
"Hmmm. Is that all, then, Peter?"
"No, there was also my next door neighbor."
"Your next door neighbor?"
"Yes, Father. She had gigantic tits — like watermelons — and I just couldn't resist."
"How many times did you, um, consort with this woman?"
"Oh, I don't know. A hundred times or so, I guess. At least!"
"Really!"
"Really."
"Is that all?"
"No, Father. There was a Hollywood starlet I spent the night with."
"Just one night?"
"Yes, Father. It was in Hollywood, actually."
"And that's all?"
"No, Father."
"What else, then? Wasn't there a more of a girl friend than a prostitute woman?" Clearly, nothing got past Father Winn!
"A young, um, black girl? She was the other sort of prostitute."
"Really? How did you meet her?"
"On the street. Just by chance. But later at a brothel, too. She was a prostitute too, except that I saw her at a hotel as a girl friend. Not at the brothel as a client. Except the first time we, er, knew each other."
"How old was this young black girl?"
"I'm not sure, Father. She was very young. She had watermelon-sized breasts so I'm sure she must be of age, though."
"So she had watermelon breasts, also?"
"Yes, Father."
"Hmmm." Father Winn paused for a moment. "Did all these women with whom you've been involved have large breasts?
"Yes, Father — extremely large breasts."
"Hmmm." Father Winn again paused in thought. "And might I guess that your wife has very small breasts?"
"Yes, Father ... um ...well, no, Father."
"Well, which is it, Peter? Large or small?"
"It's ... it's hard to explain. My wife had very small breasts which is why I think I became unfaithful in the first place. But now, on account of nursing, she has very large breasts."
"And so that's why you're repenting of your sins? Simply because you have no need to sin anymore?"
Peter was silent. God! This guy was nailing him! "Father, I think that's what was going on at first but my wife and I have gotten extra close lately ... the babies especially have bonded us as a family ... plus, I've come to realize more than ever how wonderful she is ... and how awful I've been ... I'm just really, really sorry for what I've done! Truly I am, Father!"
"Hmmm." Father Winn again reflected for a moment." Let's go back to the little girl with the, um, watermelon breasts. How often did you see this young lady?
"More than a dozen times, I guess, Father." Peter then paused. This was a time, he realized, when brutal accuracy was at a premium. "Um ... I guess it was really a whole lot more than a dozen times, Father."
"And are there others?"
"Yes, Father. A secretary I met at a bar."
"Watermelon breasts again?"
"No, Father. More like bowling balls."
"How many times did you see her?"
"About a dozen times, Father."
"A dozen?"
"Yes, Father, a dozen. Truly. No more than that ... well, thirteen or fourteen, tops!"
"Any other women?"
"Hmmm, let me think.... No, that's it, Father."
"And when did you last see these women?"
"I saw the young black girl just a few minutes ago. Just before coming here."
"And how do you stand with these women right now?"
"Well, I've broken it off with all of them. Absolutely. Actually, I thought it was all over and done with. But I had sex — well, sort of — with the young black girl in the process of doing so, and I feel horribly guilty as a result. I've started backsliding even before I had straightened myself out."
"You 'sort of' had sex with this young girl?"
"Yes, Father, I, er, made love to her breasts."
There was a pause. "Does your wife know of these women?"
"Just the secretary, as far as I know. And maybe not even her."
"That would be the bowling ball breasts woman?"
"Yes, Father."
Father Winn paused in thought for a few moments and then continued. "Are you truly contrite?"
"Oh, yes, Father. I'm terribly ashamed as well. My wife is a wonderful, wonderful woman. I've cheated her and my children and myself, too. I've become sexually addicted to gigantic breasts, I think, but that's no excuse for the horrible things I've done. All I want now is forgiveness. Forgiveness from God, and forgiveness from my wife. Then to begin a new and faithful life with my family."
"Are you truly sorry for your misdeeds. Do you intend to lead a new life, free of such sins?"
"Yes, Father."
Father Winn paused. He then intoned the absolution.
"And now, Peter, for your penance...."
"Yes, Father."
"Your sins are many, venial, and flagrant, Peter, but God forgives those who like you show genuine repentance and seek amendment of life and reunion with him. For your penance, you are to say ten "Hail Mary's" and ten "Our Fathers." I want you to read and then think deeply about the words of Hymn Number 635. Do all that before you leave the Church. Finally, and by far the most important of all, your final act of penance is to be utterly faithful to your wife. In mind, body, and spirit! Forever and always, Peter, till death do you part. Just like the marriage vows you exchanged at your wedding. That may seem simple and unexceptional but I think for you it may be very, very difficult. With prayer and resolution, however, you can succeed."
"Yes, Father."
Peter then left the confessional booth and knelt down in a pew to say his prayers and to read the hymn. A weight seemed to have been lifted. For the first time, Peter felt as if he could really give up his tomcatting and be faithful to Amanda. Thank goodness for that!
As he headed back to his study, Father Winn shook his head. The man was a true sexual profligate. So fixated on huge breasts! His sexual appetites were so ... so ... unrefined! So out of tune with the true subtleties of human sensuality! The priest shook his head again. He did seem repentant, though. Father Winn hoped that with God's help Peter could keep these strange, primitive urges in check!
End of Chapter 33
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