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Father, I Have Sinned

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“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Warm and lush, her voice trickled through the thin partition of the confession booth, and jolted me into consciousness. I had been mulling over the dream that had attacked me that morning, a dream surely sent by the devil to torment me. I had dreamt of a sea of rolling flesh, quivering buttocks and strident nipples, which left me exhausted and ashamed. I was in no mood for giving confessions but Tuesday mornings were my responsibilities at the Church of Our Lady of Perpetual Chastity, and so I had risen, washed the vile sweat of my nocturnal torment from me, dressed, and gone to church.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

It was an unfamiliar voice, golden as sunlight through a cathedral window, rounded, mature. Driving the memory of my hellish night from my mind, I composed myself in the cramped darkness, and intoned, “When was your last confession, my child?”

“Yesterday, Father.”

Only something big could bring someone back so soon. Murder? I idly wondered. Robbery? Or just a night-long orgy of gossipping?

“Of what nature were yours sins?”

“Father…” The honeyed voice hesitated, and for a moment it sounded like the voice of a child. “Father, I have committed a sin of the flesh.”

At this, I looked up. In the dim light of the confession booth, hampered by the thick wooden lattice between us, I could only see the outline of her head, with long dark hair, bent in penitence. I tried to comfort her.

“All that is flesh, sins,” I said.

She raised her head, and in that moment, I felt as if my own words had been turned against me. This was no heavy Irish housewife complaining about beating her sons, or a mousey Asian secretary driven to church by her parents! The woman separated from me by the lattice was ageless, and impossibly beautiful. In the narrow light from behind the thick curtains, I glimpsed the dark slash of her eyebrows, and the darkness of her fluttering eyelashes beneath. Lips red and swollen, glistening. And beneath that … my eyes travelled downwards, I could not stop them … beneath that, the white shining expanse of her bosom hemmed in by her low-cut black dress, scored down the center by cleavage deep as promise. All at once, I wanted to bury my aching head in that broad white pillow that seemed to shine in the dimness, wanted to suck my own forgiveness from nipples that must be dark against such white skin. She shone as the Virgin Mary shines, mature and fertile, yet soft, quiet, virginal.

How long had I been staring in silence? Quickly, I stammered out, “Tell me your sins, my child.”

“Last night,” and once again she hesitated. God, I thought, this woman cannot be older than twenty five, and she is so afraid! “Last night, my dad came into my room. He came into my room and he … he touched me.”

So that’s it, I thought, incest. I felt a powerful surge of rage, against any man who would dare disrespect God enough to covet his own daughter! And then to make her feel guilty about it! I looked down, and felt the rage transform itself into a surge of different sort, one that longed to pour itself down the dark crack of her cleavage.

“How long has he been doing this?”

“For the last year…maybe longer. At first, he came in when he was drunk and he would just stand there. şişli üniversiteli escort And then he would start rubbing himself between his legs, and after a while, he would go away.”

“And then?” I asked, and knew straight away that I should not have asked. I should be counselling this girl, telling her that none of this was her fault, suggesting she speak to someone who could help her. But a desire to know flooded me, and I wanted to hear her voice relate every detail of her father standing in her bedroom, masturbating over his daughter’s sleeping body.

“Then he would unzip his fly and…” her voice trailed away.

I needed to comfort her, before she would speak to me. “How old are you, my child?”

“Twenty.”

“Why aren’t you in college?”

“He … he won’t let me go. He says I have to stay home and look after him. He never lets me out.” Her words were coming in a rush now. “I never get to see anyone. He lets me go to church. I go to church a lot. All over the place. He doesn’t want anyone to start asking questions, so I don’t go to the same church. He asks me where I go as soon as I get home, and then, when I’m in bed, he comes into my room and unzips his fly and…” she took a deep breath, “And pulls it out. And then he starts to rub his hand all over it, standing right next to my bed.” Her words were tumbling out, she could not stop herself. “And then one night he put it against my lips, and I pretended to be asleep, and I turned away, but he grabbed my head and pulled it back and forced it against my lips. And he pressed my jaw until I opened my mouth and then … then he put it in my mouth!”

She stopped, aghast at what she had said. In the silence, I felt my cock jutting up under my robes. I longer to touch it, to help ease the terrible urge, but in the silence she would hear me.

“Tell me everything, my child, don’t keep it in,” I said.

“Then … then he would press it into my mouth. He would start pumping in and out.” I moved my hand under my robes, and closed my palm around my hard cock. “He started slow, but then he would get faster and faster.” My hand moved quicker, trying to calm the desire, but only making my cock harder, insistent. I imagined the head of my own cock probing her red wet lips, and my erection jerked in my hand. “Sometimes he went so deep he would choke me. He put his hands on the back of my head and push himself into me.”

My God, her father had fucked her face, this beautiful virgin girl. But how could you resist? How could you resist pulling up her thin nightdress, spreading her thighs and burying yourself deep in her soft white pussy?

“And then … oh, it was horrible … then he would start jerking and groaning. I thought he was dying! He would go faster and faster, and then I felt something wet and salty fill my mouth, deep in the back of my throat. And I had to swallow it.”

She was silent again. I stopped rubbing my cock, but my erection was huge, burning. I needed to get her talking, or to give her absolution and make her leave, so that I could spurt myself in solitude onto the walls of the confession booth.

“This is not your fault,” I said, hoping she would not hear the tremble of desire in my voice. “Whatever your father does to you is no sin of yours. taksim anal yapan escort You are merely being a dutiful daughter.” I felt a drop of liquid seep out of my cock, and I spread it around the head, wishing it was her saliva, spread by her tongue.

“But Father, there is something else.”

“Go on,” I croaked out, desperate for more.

“Last night, while he was pushing it into my mouth, he pulled down the sheet. And then he ripped my nightgown. He was drunk, he gets like that when he’s drunk.”

She was apologising for him, for this sinner bent for hell who could not stop himself cumming in his daughter’s mouth. And I, God help me, could not stop myself wanting to hear more.

“He put his hands on my tits. He put his hands all over them, squeezing. He started stroking my nipples, and then they started to stand up, and he started to squeeze them too! He started pinching them!” She was getting almost hysterical.

“I told you,” I panted, hand tight on my cock, “What your father does to you is not your sin.”

“But,” she cried out, “I liked it!”

I almost came right then and there. She had liked it when her father had squeezed her nipples – her nightdress had probably been soaked between her legs by her juices, just as her father’s cum ran down her face.

On the other side of the partition, she took my gasps for disapproval. She started to cry. I, in the depths of my own sin, wanted only to sin some more.

“My child,” I said, trying hard to sound calm, “Do you know why people come to confession?”

“No.”

“Because a priest is the only orthodox way to reach God. The absolution that we give you runs through us because we are God’s chosen vessel of forgiveness. Do you love God?”

“Yes.”

“And do you want to be forgiven?”

“Yes.”

“Then I will be your vessel of forgiveness. But because this is a special and terrible sin, it requires a special form of forgiveness.” I cleared my throat. “If I do to you what it is that makes you so ashamed, you will feel God’s essence flow into you, and only in this way will you purge yourself of sin.”

I held my breath, dreading the sound of her hurried exit from the booth. But none came. She said, in a very small voice, “Will you show me how to be forgiven?”

I stood up and faced the window that separated us, pulled my robes above my waist and knotted them. Then I slid aside the wooden lattice in the window. She gazed up at me standing above her, as I gripped my hard cock in my fist.

“What do I do?”

“Lick it,” I ordered her, thrusting my cock towards her mouth. Her moist red lips parted and she licked the head of my cock tentatively.

“Suck it,” I told her. “Suck the head.”

She sucked the head of my cock into her warm wet mouth. Her tongue swirled hot around the rim, teasing the veins.

“More.”

She obediently leant forwards and sucked more of my cock into her mouth, looking up me with big dark innocent eyes. Without me telling her, she began to bob her head back and forth, keeping her lips tight around my shaft. I could feel her lips rolling over the skin, so warm, and her tongue busily wrapping itself around the shaft. I thought I had died and gone to hell, and I could not have liked it more.

“Take taksim bdsm escort it all.”

I did not wait for her to lean forward. I put one hand on the back of her head and drove my cock deep down her throat. She choked a little, but did not resist, and continued bobbing her head. I started to pump her throat, feeling the head of my cock invading the tight wet flesh.

Still ramming my cock down her throat, I hunched over and slid my hands over the top of her breasts. I wormed my fingers down the front of her dress, and felt for her nipples. Her tits were as I had imagined them, white and soft, but her nipples were softer, until I touched them, and then I could feel the nubs harden under my thumbs.

I pulled down her shirt, and the white expanse of her tits spilled out, braless. Her nipples were dark and tight. I rammed myself deeper down her throat, groaning, “Yes, my child, take it all. Take all of God’s forgiveness.”

She moaned a little, vibrating my cock under her tongue. I rolled her tits between my fingers. I took whole handfuls of her white tit flesh and squeezed it in my palm, running my hard hands all over the soft skin. Suddenly I pinched her nipples roughly, and she gasped, arching her back and thrusting her breasts up into my hands.

It was sin down her throat, but it was uncomfortable hunching over the grab her tits at the same time, and I wanted more, I wanted paradise. I pulled my cock out of her mouth, and with my hands on her breasts, pulled her up a little higher.

“Hold them together,” I told her. With white hands dwarfed by the size of her tits, she cupped her own breasts and pushed them inwards, creating a deep milky ravine. I positioned my cock, wet with her saliva, at the base of the ravine, and thrust upwards.

Yes, it was paradise. Fucking the Virgin Mary’s tits might have felt like that. Her smooth spongy flesh made a dark cradle for my cock, and I watched as the head of my cock thrust out at the top of her cleavage, dark against her skin. I reached down and started pinching her nipples, banging myself rhythmically into her tits. She began to moan as she felt my fingers ravaging her nipples.

“Beg for forgiveness,” I muttered.

“Oh God,” she gasped. Her eyes were closed and her head arched. She gave herself up to me and my savage violation of her tits.

“Beg for God’s forgiveness. Beg for His essence.”

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she moaned. I fucked her tits faster, twisting her nipples in frenzy. “Oh God, oh God, forgive me.”

I could feel the cum building up in my cock. I wanted to spurt it all over her dark hair and leaves strands of white across her red lips.

“Beg for it!” I shouted. I could barely hold myself back.

“Oh God, fill me with Your essence,” she moaned. “Fill me, fill me!”

My cock jerked in the tight ravine of her tits.

“Fill me!” she moaned.

“It’s coming! Forgiveness is coming!” I pounded her tits furiously, and the cum exploded out of my cock onto her lips. She bent and sucked the head as I continued to come, pumping myself down her throat. She milked my cock with her tongue, and her swallowing kept me going.

At last I was empty, exhausted. I pulled out.

A strand of cum escaped her mouth and fell onto her breasts. I lowered my cock and gently rubbed the cum over her skin with it, making the sign of the cross. “I pronounce you cleansed,” I intoned, “in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.”

I looked down at her. Her nipples were still hard and red from their abuse. Her breasts were wet and streaked with cum. She gazed up at me, parted her juicy red lips and whispered, “Amen.”

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