“Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been two years since my last confession.”

Mary was a good Catholic girl. She was obedient to God and her parents, kept the Commandments, went to church regularly, followed the teachings of the Gospels, and was chaste; at least physically. Well, except for that one time two years ago, and then last night. Before last night she almost never needed to go to confession. But now …

“Two years, child?” she heard the priest on the other side of the panel ask.

“I am not a child, Father. I am eighteen. And a half.”

The priest, Bill, who was barely thirty, had to chuckle at that. He did not recognize which parishioner was in the confessional booth, but he did recognize the indignant tone of someone who felt slighted because of their age. “Okay, young lady then. Now, two years?”

“Yes Father. I have not really had anything to confess since I was sixteen. Until last night.”

“Well, that is admirable,” the priest replied, having his doubts that any teenage girl in this day and age had nothing to confess. “And tell me, then, what was it that you confessed to two years ago?” The pause before her reply was long enough that the priest asked if she was okay.

“Well, Father, it is, was, quite embarrassing. And unchaste. Must we go over it?”

Now while the Sacrament of Penance is of extreme importance in the life of a Roman Catholic, and in the duties of a priest, actually hearing confessions can be quite boring. Especially in the evening, like now; doubly so because few Catholics actually ever go to confession any more, resulting in long hours sitting all alone in the dark. There had to be better ways for a priest to spend a Friday night. So when Bill heard the key words “embarrassing” and “unchaste”, he needed details.

“Yes, young lady, we must; especially if it is connected to whatever you need to confess about from last night.” When Mary replied that it was somewhat connected, Bill gave a little fist-pump. “Okay then,” he said in his best pastoral voice, “tell me about two years ago.”

“Well, Father, two years ago I let a boy kiss me. It was at my sixteenth birthday party. He … he used his tongue.” That’s it, thought Bill. A kiss. A French kiss. There had to be more.

“And…?”

“And nothing father. But tongue-kissing outside of marriage is wrong. Who told you that?” he asked, incredulously.

“My mother.”

“And when you confessed this, what did the priest tell you?”

“Father Nelson told me to say three Hail Mary’s and make a good Act of Contrition.”

Nelson? That senile old fart? He was probably not even listening to what the girl said. You could have murdered a nun and get just “say three Hail Mary’s and make a good Act of Contrition” as penance. “And so you have not tongue-kissed anyone since?” he asked.

“No, Father. I haven’t even kissed a boy at all since then. You know, to ‘avoid the near occasion of sin’.”

“Well young lady, I can tell you that tongue-kissing outside marriage is acceptable as long as it does not lead to unchaste acts. That isn’t why you’re here now, is it? Because you tongue-kissed a boy again?”

“No, Father, I have not tongue-kissed a boy.” There was sarcastic indignation in her voice. “No, this was much worse.” Now we’re getting to it, Bill thought, although he didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. For all he knew, she considered holding hands “much worse”. “No, Father, I had impure thoughts, which lead me to do impure things to myself.”

“I cannot imagine that a young lady that has not tongue-kissed a boy but once could be accused of impurity. Are you sure that you’ve actually sinned?”

“Father, I … I … I had bad girl dreams. And … then … I abused myself.” The “abused myself” was almost a whisper.

Jackpot! “Tell me, young lady, what exactly are ‘bad girl dreams’?”

“You know,” she stammered, “dreams about, well, sexual things.” Again, almost a whisper.

Bill could feel his penis begin to stir. It had been a while since he had heard a good sex confession from a young woman, and he was hoping this one would end the dry spell. “Young lady, I cannot help you with your sins unless I know the details. Now, when were these dreams?”

“They were last night.”

“And what do you suppose brought them on?”

“Well, I was at my best friend Lisa’s house, and we were doing homework. The laptop we were using crashed, so we asked her older brother if we could use his. He said yes, but I think that he must have forgotten what he was using it for before us. It was already booted, but the screen was dark. As soon as Lisa hit the space bar, a series of looped video clips popped up of her brother Jim and his girlfriend Patsy, totally naked, doing very bad things.”

“Sex, you mean?”

“Yes, sex. Outside of marriage. And in ways that I do not believe God intended for the procreation of man.”

This was getting good. “Well, I’m sure that it was disturbing to see these pictures, but I do not believe that it was your fault, or your sin, that you were unintentionally and momentarily exposed to them.”

“But you see, Father, it wasn’t momentary. Lisa and I couldn’t stop watching. We sat there for what seemed like forever, as the loops repeated over and over, until Jim walked in. He quickly exited the screen, but it was too late. When I looked at him, in my mind all I could see was him naked, with his … his … his thing going in and out of Patsy.”

Bill was now semi-erect. “You mean his penis in her vagina?”

“Yes, and…”

“Her mouth?”

“Yes, and ...”

“There was something else?”

A long pause. “It looked like he was putting it up her … her rear-end.”

Bill was now completely hard. He coughed. “Yes, well that is not totally unheard of.”

“Ew! Really?”

“Yes, young lady. Although oral sex is much more popular than anal sex.” He tried to sound clinically authoritative as he rubbed his hard-on through his cassock. “And, of course,” he added quickly, “neither are sanctioned by the Church. So, what else did you see?”

“Well, in the one where she had his … thing …”

“His penis?”

“Yes, his … penis … in her mouth, and she seemed to be licking it and sucking on it until it was shooting white stuff…”

“Semen?”

“Yes, semen. Anyway, it was shooting it into her mouth and she was smiling and swallowing it.”

“Anything else?” He just had to ask.

“Well, in the picture where he was putting his thing, his … penis … in her rear-end, when he pulled it out there was this big, gaping hole; like you could actually look inside of her … up her butt-hole. And in the one where he was putting it in her vagina, when he took it out white stuff…”

“Semen?”

“Yes, semen, dribbled back out.”

Bill could see why the girl was mesmerized. A cum-in-mouth blowjob, an anal gaping, and a pussy creampie are the “Holy Trinity”, as it were, of porn. “Still, these are all involuntary reactions. I do not believe that God will hold them against you.

“But that isn’t all.”

There’s more? “Go on then.”

“I went right home. But all I could think of was sex. When I took my shower, I imagined that it was Jim’s hands rubbing all over my breasts, my bottom, between my legs when I washed myself. When I brushed my teeth, I imagined my toothbrush was Jim’s … um … penis, and the toothpaste was his … semen. My nipples were hard even though it wasn’t cold; and even after I peed and wiped myself, I was wet down there.”

Bill unbuttoned his cassock, pulled down his zipper, reached in and pulled out his cock. Thankfully, he was in an older church where the priest and parishioner were in separate, dark booths with just a face-level, heavily screened sliding panel for an opening between them. He started to slowly stroke himself. “Well, again, it isn’t like you intentionally had these thoughts…”

“Oh, but it gets worse. Much worse. I had a hard time falling asleep, but once I did, I had the ‘bad girl dreams’. I dreamed that Jim was pushing his hard penis into my vagina, and that I was loving it. That he forced it into my mouth, and I was loving it. That he was forcing it…you know…”

“Up your ass?”

“Father!”

“Oh, come on, let’s cut out the cutesy terms. You dreamed that he was fucking your pussy and ass, and you were sucking his cock. Does that about sum it up?” There was a pause, and Bill could hear rustling sounds coming from the booth.

“Oooh … Yyyess … oooh” Did he just hear her moan that answer?

“Was that it?”

“No. The dream became so intense that I woke up. And when I woke up, I had a finger in my ... my … pussy, and my other hand was grabbing my … tit.” Bill definitely heard rhythmic movement coming from the girl, and if he wasn’t mistaken, could detect the scent of her arousal. “It felt so good that I couldn’t stop.” There was a low moan, and he could hear a soft, squishing liquid sound. “I kept pinching each nipple, hard, wishing that it was Jim biting them.” Now the moaning was louder. “I kept shoving my finger in and out, pretending that it was Jim’s … cock … fucking … me. I found the hard nub at the top of my opening, and when I touched it, it was like electricity between my legs. I kept bumping it as my finger worked its way in and out. I was so wet … um … ‘down there’… that my sheets were soaked.” She sounded as if she were having a hard time breathing.

Bill stopped working his dick so that he could listen to the girl masturbating. “Go on, dear, don’t stop.”

Her voice was ragged. “I could feel my whole pelvis tightening, and my hips started bucking all on their own. I shoved my finger in one more time, hard, mashing the nub, and lost control.” He heard her panting now. Was she re-living the experience? “My … pussy … started convulsing, squeezing the finger inside and gushing liquid out as my whole body spasmed and tingled.” She started grunting in a very lewd manner. “I started to feel faint…” There was a momentary silence, then thrashing as she screamed, “Oh my god! Oh my god!” She was cumming right there in the confessional.

It took a while for her to regain her composure. Bill was trying to figure out how quickly he could leave the confessional so that he could relieve his hard-on when Mary huskily asked, “What should I do, Father?”

Being somewhat distracted, his knee-jerk response was, “About what?”

“My bad girl dreams. My self-abuse. It was all I could think about all day. I kept running to the girl’s room and touching myself; my vagina, my nipples. I need to stop. What is the penance that will help me to avoid these thoughts and keep me from touching myself and sinning in the future?”

“Get laid.” It came out before he could stop it.

“What, you mean my penance is to have sex?”

That wasn’t quite what he should have said, but he decided to roll with it.

“Yes. I think, in this case, that in order to keep from masturbating, that is what you were doing after all, you need to have sex to calm the urges and satisfy your latent curiosity.” He paused, waiting to see if she would buy this line of bull-shit.

“But Father,” she said with just a bit of frustration in her voice, “I can’t have sex with Jim. He already has a girlfriend.”

Again, not the answer he expected, but he liked where this was going. He began to hatch a plan. “No, young lady, what you need is some, how should I put this, some Sacramental Sex.”

“You mean with a priest?”

Sure, why not? “Yes, young lady. With a priest.”

“So, should I come into your side, or will you come over to my side?”

Bill was momentarily stunned. He couldn’t believe that this girl was taking this hook, line and sinker. And he certainly wasn’t prepared for to fuck her right in the confessional. “No, not here; not now. I still have confessions to hear.”

“But Father, if I am to avoid the dreams tonight, shouldn’t we do it now?” Which, of course, made perfect sense assuming the rest of the premise made sense, as well. “I don’t want any more sins on my soul than I already have.”

Bill thought. He was a priest. He should nip this in the bud. Instead, he heard himself say, “Come to the back door of the rectory, say in half an hour. I will end confession early. Now go, and sin no more.”

“Shouldn’t I say a Hail Mary or something?”

“No, that won’t be necessary at this time. You’ll be on your knees later. You can say one then.” On your knees sucking my cock, he thought. Could this get any better? He heard her leave the booth, then the sanctuary as her departing steps echoed in the empty church. While he waited to see if anyone else had come for confession, he realized that the girl probably knew who he was, but he had no idea who she was. Or, what she looked like. All he knew was that she was eighteen, horny, and apparently quite gullible. He hoped that she was also attractive.

After a few minutes, he locked up and hurried to the rectory to change into a clean cassock. He decided that he needn’t bother to put on anything underneath. He had just finished up when he heard a knock at the back door. Composing himself, he went to answer it; fingers crossed that the girl was half-way decent looking.

He wasn’t disappointed. He opened the door to a fresh-faced teen, about four-ten, who looked younger than her stated age of eighteen; smallish breasts under a loose silk blouse opened just enough to show a hint of upper chest, a small waist and slightly swelled hips under a modest black skirt. She had flowing red hair, emerald green eyes, and wore no make-up. Not that she needed any; her peaches and cream complexion, interrupted only by a smattering of freckles on her cheekbones, shone with natural beauty. Bill motioned her in, and as she passed, he got a good look at her cute little bottom that rocked provocatively as she walked. She went straight to the living room, then turned to face him.

“I’m sorry,” Bill said, “but I don’t know your name.”

“Mary. And what should I call you?”

“Father Bill, or just plain Bill, will be fine.”

“Father Bill, then.” She paused. “So, what should we do now?”

It had been quite a while since Bill had seduced a woman; the opportunities for a Catholic priest to get laid by the opposite sex being few and far between nowadays. And, past seductions had not been in the guise of him fulfilling his priestly duties; far from it since Catholic priests are supposed to be celibate. He decided that deductive reasoning would be a good approach. “Well, Mary, which sexual image brings you the most discomfort?” He expected her to say that it was the anal sex, but was surprised when she said that it was the oral. “And why is that?”

“Well, I think it is because Jim’s girlfriend seemed to be participating, as opposed to just letting Jim do something to her. And, of course, his squirting his stuff ... semen ... into her mouth so that she could taste it and swallow it.”

“And this is worse because…?”

“Well, obviously, it was as much her fault as his. And she took his … semen … into her mouth! And she liked it!”

The priest could not quite fathom the reasoning, but since he was about to be the recipient of Mary’s first cum-swallowing blow-job, it didn’t seem to matter; especially to his cock. “Well, then that is where we’ll start.” Bill took a pillow off of the couch and set it in front of him, and then unbuttoned his cassock, revealing that he was naked beneath. And erect. “Kneel in front of me.”

Mary sunk slowly to her knees, staring at his protruding member. “It looks much bigger than Jim’s, Father Bill. It looks longer and thicker.” Timidly at first, but then with more confidence, she took it in her hand, using her fingers to gauge its length and girth. Her delicate fingers barely fit around it, and even with his length in both hands, there was a considerable amount of his fuck-stick still exposed. She began to lick him with her small, pink tongue; first the shaft, then the bulging, circumcised head. A hiss escaped Bill’s lips as his cock twitched reflexively from the pleasure. “Am I doing this correctly?” she asked, looking up to him with her beautiful eyes.

“Yes, perfect,” was all he could out before she resumed bathing his turgid member with her saliva. For her part, Mary was mesmerized by the organ, running her fingers up and down its length. She was fascinated by the fact that it was both hard and soft at the same time, and that it was quite warm. Mimicking what she could recall of the video, she traced the prominent veins with her tongue, planting soft kisses on the crown before licking off the pre-cum that oozed from his slit. She was fascinated by the fact that touching the strip of skin that connected the bulbous head to his shaft caused an exaggerated twitching response. Bill was about to grab her head and shove his prick deep into her mouth when she finally took the tip between her lips, and then half his length. “God, yes! Yes!”

Mary tried to remember what she had seen on the computer, using her hand to control the waving wand of flesh as her...