Bless Me, Father, I Have Sinned (2)

~ Tannie ~

I pulled up to the church the next afternoon.

I actually tried to dress decently today. I wore a plain white polo shirt and a dark skirt that went past my knees. No cleavage, less skin.

I pushed open the heavy church doors. The building was empty, except for an older nun near the altar.

I walked over to her. "Excuse me, Sister. Where is the confession room?"

"Right this way, my child," she said, pointing toward a dark wooden booth in the corner.

I walked over, stepped inside, and sat down on the bench. The booth was completely dark. A thick wooden wall with a small lattice screen separated my side from the priest's side.

"Father Edmund?" I whispered into the dark.

No one answered. For a few seconds, it was completely silent. Then I heard a heavy breath on the other side of the screen.

I knew it was him immediately.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," I started, my voice teasing.

"What is your name?" his voice came through the screen. It was lower than yesterday, rough and deep.

"Tannie," I said, leaning closer to the lattice. "Tannie Gayle. I told you yesterday I'd come back."

There was a pause. "I remember. What do you want to confess, Tannie?"

I leaned my back against the wall and crossed my legs.

"I want to talk about my job," I started bluntly. "I told you yesterday I'm a stripper and a dancer. My job only requires me to go naked and dance. But I can't help myself, Father. I always end up fucking my clients."

He didn't interrupt me. I just heard his steady breathing.

"I do it because I like sex," I continued. "I like the feeling of a man's c*ck stretching inside my p*ssy. But there's a problem. I like it rough, I like to be ruined, and none of my clients give me that. I sometimes feel dissatisfied with my boring orgasms."

The wood groaned slightly on his side as if he shifted closer. I tried to peek at the other side but all I could see was his shadow through the screen.

"I'll tell you what I did right before I came to this town," I whispered. "I had a client that asked for me privately for a lap dance. He ended up fucking me, spreading my legs, and pinning me down... but it was still not enough. I need more. I want more."

"Tannie..." his voice sounded strained and dangerously tight. "What you are doing is dangerous for your soul."

"Maybe," I smirked, laughing slightly. "But I have one more confession, Father. And it's about you."

He went completely silent.

"I find older men attractive. In fact, I find you hot," I whispered, putting my lips closer to the screen. "I dreamt about you last night. I wondered what you look like under that priest uniform. How long has it been since you've had sex, Father? Or are you a virgin?"

The silence that followed stretched so long I thought he might actually get up and leave.

"Enough, Tannie," he snapped, warning me dangerously. "This is a sacrament. This is a house of God, not your workplace. If you are not here to ask for forgiveness, you need to leave right now."

I didn't move an inch. Instead, a thrill shot straight down my spine at the panic and anger in his voice. He was rattled.

"Why should I leave, Father? I'm just getting started," I taunted breathlessly, sounding like I was whining. "Look at me. I even dressed modestly for you today. But let me tell you a secret... I’m not wearing anything underneath my long skirt."

A loud hitch in his breath answered me.

It was only supposed to be a joke—a little revenge for him insulting the job that paid my bills. But hearing his breath turn heavy and shallow in the other side of the booth did something to me.

My chest tightened. I remembered how handsome he looked yesterday, how rugged those broad shoulders were, how he didn't look like a priest at all.

Suddenly, a wave of real heat pooled right between my thighs. I was getting wet. Real wet. And the realization only made me bolder.

I leaned back on the bench, pulling my long dark skirt all the way up to my waist. I lifted my legs, spreading them wide in the cramped, dark space, resting my feet against the wooden walls.

"Can you hear this, Father?" I whispered, my hand sliding down into the empty space between my thighs.

I slipped two fingers down, finding my center. It was slick, completely soaked. I began to rub myself slowly, the unmistakable wet sound of my own arousal echoing loudly in the quiet booth.

"I'm touching myself right now," I murmured, letting out a soft, breathless groan as my thumb circled my cl*t. "It's so wet. It's all because of you."

The only sound from his side was his breathing, which had turned into a heavy panting sound. He didn't tell me to stop, or leave the booth or report me of my indecency.

I was turned me on more than I had ever been in my entire life. No client had ever made my blood run this hot.

I slid two fingers deep inside my p*ssy, letting out a genuine moan that cut through the silence of the small space. I pumped my fingers in and out of myself, my hips rolling off the hard bench.

"It feels so good, Father Edmund," I gasped out, panting as I kept my eyes locked on his shadow through the screen. "I’m fingering myself right in front of you. Come on, tell me I'm going to hell. Tell me I'm a sinner while you listen to me fuck myself like a dirty little whore I am."

The booth rattled violently, making me jump. A loud bang echoed through the small space as he slammed his door shut, leaving the confession booth.

My fingers slipped out of myself, my breath catching in my throat. I paused as adrenaline spiked through my chest. For a second, a flash of panic hit me. I braced myself to get dragged out of the church, or worse, arrested for what I had just done.

But then, the muffled sound of voices filtered through the wood.

"Sister, why don't you take a break for now?" Father Edmund's deep baritone called out, completely calm and controlled. "Go on ahead. I still have work to take care of in the back."

"Oh, thank you, Father," the old nun’s fragile voice replied.

A moment later, the distant groan of the church’s front doors echoed through the building, followed by absolute silence.

I let out a breath. I started to lower my legs, preparing to smooth down my dark skirt and walk out of there like I owned the place.

My eyes widened as the door swung wide open, standing in the doorway was Father Edmund himself, but he wasn't wearing his priest uniform anymore.

He was in a black shirt and black pants. Seeing him like this proved my theory instantly—the man was absolutely jacked.

I smirked, trying to hide my shock. "Looking a little less holy today, Father. You look so fucking hot."

I thought he was going to snap at me, or grab my wrist to kick me out himself. I didn't actually think he would give in.

But he proved me wrong without saying a single word.

​His eyes were completely dark. He stepped into the tiny booth, slammed the door shut, and locked us in.

​His hands went straight to his belt. He unbuckled it, popped the button, and unzipped his pants.

When he pulled out his c*ck, my jaw practically dropped. He was massive, thick, and heavily veiny c*ck that was already leaking a drop of pre-cum at the tip.

Holy... fuck... had he been jerking off on the other side?