July 24, 2009
Fiction
Confessions in a Small Room
Confession is Hell in a small room.
Every Saturday, I was caught in the small room in the back of St. Alphonsus Catholic Church. Every damn Saturday from second grade to the spring of my senior year.
The room had replaced the pre-Vatican II closets that separated the confessor from the angry eyes of the priest. I always thought those Confessionals were the better way to go. Cherished anonymity. But, the room was built. In it, one could kneel behind a curtain or go balls out and sit facing the priest.
As a young, guilt-ridden child, I cowered behind the curtain, absolutely sure Father Gabrielle knew it was me. He did, but we pretended I was just the next in the line of sinners waiting outside the room. Sinning kids confessing the same sins over and over. Not one of us, least of all me, telling what was really in our hearts.
As we grew up, our catechism numbers dwindled. Some kids studied only as far as second grade to get through Confession and First Communion. More held on until eighth grade for Confirmation. But then they all left en masse and four of us remained. Finally, we were whittled down to just two. Nancy and me. Senior year. Embittered eighteen-year-old girls forced into study by very Catholic mothers.
“This semester we’re studying the Bible as literature,” said Mr. Hawthorne. “The Bible may very well be the best book ever written. Tremendous characters. Murder. Love. Everything a good book needs.”
“Does Father know were doing this?”
“Father Gabrielle is being joined this year by Father Chuck.”
“Father Chuck?” we laughed.
Mr. Hawthorne cleared his throat.
“Father Chuck made the suggestion and we will be following it.”
Father Chuck. The men of the parish related to him. He’d become a priest later in life, had attended college and worked as an engineer. The women fell in love with him. All of the women. With the exception of Cecilia who was a mere two steps away from sainthood.
His sermons moved the congregation. Every Sunday Mass, I sat in the front row with my family and still can’t remember a word he said. He wasn’t overly handsome, but he was charismatic as hell.
That was when Confession changed. Entirely.
“Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been — ”
“Ruth?”
What the…?
“Ruth. How about you come around here and we’ll talk.”
In all my eighteen years, I’d never had a priest talk to me like that.
Dear Lord, give me strength.
The small room closed in as I stood. A deep breath and three steps later I was facing Father Chuck.
“Have a seat. Now we can really talk about what’s on your mind.”
He smiled as he adjusted his vestments to make himself more comfortable.
“I’ve thought terrible thoughts about my brother. I stole a piece of Brach’s candy from the grocery store. I — “
Father Chuck interrupted. “I know. You and everyone else. Ruth, you’re a young woman facing new things every day. What have you been battling with?”
Where do I start? I let Kevin Hahn touch my boobs.
“No, things are going pretty good.”
“You’re only with us two days a week. How is everything at public school?”
“Fine.”
His light blue eyes lit up behind his glasses.
“Everything’s fine then. No temptations you don’t know what to do with?”
“Well… there’re always temptations. I don’t have to give in to them.”
I thought I’d found the right answer.
“True. But it’s not that easy, is it, Ruth?” He paused. “Why don’t you come by the rectory Friday, after school? I’ll call your mother to let her know you’ll be here.”
He was a priest, the priest, asking me to do something. What else could I say?
“Yes, Father.”
“Good then. Now, for your penance I want you to say four Hail Mary’s for the thoughts about your brother and three Our Father’s for the theft of the candy.”
He then prayed over me and absolved my sins. I wondered if it included the one about Kevin.
•
Kevin still touched my boobs.
My parents approved of him. He’s a good Catholic boy who goes to the Cathedral on the hill. Altar boy. Head of the Youth Group.
Groper.
The days of under the blouse and over the bra were long gone.
We parked in the lot of a deserted factory, between two abandoned cars. In the back seat, Kevin was quick to get my top off. He sucked on my breasts, not well, but adequately. He loved my boobs.
He got me on my back and got on top of me. I felt him begin to move his hips against my pelvis. A long, hard line ran from the waistband of his jeans to his crotch. I spread my legs in the limited space and let him rub himself.
For the longest time I thought the moisture in my jeans was sweat from the close quarters of the car. Soon, I knew he rubbed against the heat of my own wetness.
Kevin pressed himself against me and, if I tilted my hips just so, he rubbed my jeans into my clitoris. We rocked into each other, our breath becoming ragged and the car steaming up. I felt a pressure building that I knew could become something bigger, but Kevin always jerked and whimpered before it grew.
We sat up and adjusted our clothes. We were trying to be good. I knew he wanted me to touch him. I wanted him to touch me. Neither happened. Instead, we drove to the Steak-n-Shake for burgers and cheese fries.
•
“How has your week been, Ruth?”
Father Chuck invited me into the rectory with a smile and guided me to a small room with a table and a couple of chairs. What is it with this church and small rooms?
“Fine, Father.”
“How was school?”
“Studies are good. I’m getting A’s in all my classes.”
“Very good, Ruth. What about friends?”
“I have a couple of good ones. Mainly Nancy.”
“What about boys?”
Oh, dear God.
“Boys, Father?”
“Do you have any friends who are boys?”
Do I tell him about Kevin? No! He’ll ask questions.
“No, Father.”
“What about Kevin Hahn? Your mother mentioned you study with him.”
“Yes, Sir. We study together. I sometimes help him with the planning of Youth Group.”
“Your mother has noticed you’ve become close. She’s asked me to talk to you.”
You have got to be freaking kidding me. I’m going to kill her in her sleep.
“Oh?”
Father Chuck smiled and scooted his chair closer to mine. He patted me on the knee. “I wasn’t always a priest. I know what you’re going through.”
Do you? Really?
“I was a regular person all the way through college.”
I thought of him at that age. Had he fumbled with girls? Oh my! Had he had sex?
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” He loosened his white collar and laid it on the table. “I’m not that different. I’m here to help you through the tough times of high school.”
“I don’t know…”
He brought his chair close enough that our knees touched. It was better than the back seat of the Pontiac.
“Okay…” I said.
“Do you kiss? You and Kevin?”
“Yes, Father. Is that wrong?”
“No. Not at all. It’s what kissing leads to which concerns me. It’s the touching.”
I’m sure I blushed. He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know, but I’d never talked about such things with an adult. I knew exactly what could happen between Kevin and me. If we let it.
“Yes, I… I mean no, Father. No touching.”
“Ruth. I know there can be touching. I was your age once. I touched…” He touched me on the thigh. “I touched the girls I dated. I fell into temptation.”
He moved his hand higher on my thigh.
“There is pregnancy, diseases, dire consequences, Ruth.”
I looked at his hand on my thigh, my breath caught in my throat. I was about to reach for his hand when he used both hands to grasp the outsides of my thighs and crushed them closed.
“You must save yourself.”
It was the moment we looked at each other that I was terrified.
“Go Ruth. And keep unto yourself.”
•
Kevin picked me up outside the rectory. “What did he say?”
“Just drive to the factory.”
“But — “
“Just go.”
As I rode, I felt Father’s hand on my leg, his look of…
His hand on my leg. His hand on my leg. His hand on my leg.
“Park.”
The feeling low in my belly had to be stopped. So did the throbbing in my crotch. I didn’t know how to start. But when Kevin laid on top of me and started rubbing his erection against me I knew that wasn’t it.
“Wait. Kevin! Wait! Help me take off my jeans.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!”
“Jesus, Kev. Just do it!”
We fumbled with my pants and finally they were in a pile on the floorboard with my panties. Kevin’s — Father’s — hand was on my bare thigh.
“Now you,” I told him.
You wouldn’t think a horny young guy would hesitate, would you? But Kevin just sat there, dumbfounded. I reached for his fly. He twitched, but didn’t move away. His penis was fighting against the fabric as I flipped the snap and worked on his zipper.
Once I got his briefs out of the way, I was face to face with my first dick. It was strangely exciting, this hard flesh. I reached out and wrapped my hand around it. Kevin jerked. So did my crotch.
“Ruth?”
I ignored him. He didn’t try to talk to me after that.
I wanted to know all about this piece of him. I shifted his jeans and briefs down to his thighs and brought my face closer to give it a thorough inspection.
His testicles bunched between his thighs and were covered with coarse hair. I ran the tips of my fingers through the curls and the folds of his sac, bringing them up to my nose. It was a pungent scent which reminded me of sweat and stale cologne.
At the tip of his penis, there was a slight trickle of moisture and it made me think of the wetness my body created. I reached my hand between my legs.
“Lie on top of me and rub yourself like you usually do, just slower.”
We fumbled in the backseat to get into our positions. Kevin lowered himself down with his hands on my thighs. Father’s hands.
The first contact of flesh on flesh was almost too much for him. He cried out and pulled back, but I grabbed his back and pulled him onto me.
We lay there for a moment. I shifted my hips to bring my nub in contact with his dick.
“Now.” He jerked into motion and ran the length of his penis up and down over my clitoris.
His hands dug into my thighs as he began thrusting against me.
“Slower.” I instructed him. “Now, harder. Harder!”
The rage in my belly, between my legs, didn’t dissipate though. It grew. Grew tremendously. I felt it coming on just as he spasmed against me.
“Jesus Christ!” He cried out. “Oh my fucking God!”
Goddammit!
•
Saturday. Confession.
I stepped around the curtain and knelt in front of Father.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”
“Ruth?”
“Father Chuck, I lied to you. There is touching.”
“Stand up.”
I struggled to my feet.
“Come to the rectory. We will talk.”
Father Chuck ushered me into the same small room with the table and two chairs.
“Now, Ruth. You must tell me everything.”
I bit my bottom lip and just said it. “I park with Kevin Hahn. We rub together until he finishes.
Father rubbed his hand over his mouth and asked, “Do you take off your clothes?”
“No. Once. Only once.”
“Did he penetrate you?”
“No! He rubbed against me until I thought I was going to…going to…to finish. But then he finished before I could.”
Father took the stole from around his shoulders, folded it and laid it on the table. “Go on.”
“I know there’s something I’m missing out on, Father, but I don’t know what it is.”
“Yes?” He removed his white collar and gently laid it on the stole.
“And I want it.”
“Ruth, you know this is a sin of the flesh?” He unbuttoned his vestment.
“Yes.”
“Lust is one of the Seven Deadly Sins.”
With his vestment draped over the back of the chair, he stood in a black shirt with black pants. Black pants that revealed a very non-priestly swelling.
“Ruth?” It wasn’t a question as much as it was a plea.
I ran the palm of my hand over Father’s hardness. My fingers tangled with his as he undid his pants and released himself. I wrapped my hand around him and squeezed lightly.
“Dear Lord, forgive me,” he whispered as he reached out and dug his hand into my hair and gripped tightly. My spine went weak. “Take off your skirt. I will show you what you are missing.”
I reached around, slid my zipper down and let my skirt fall to the floor. I felt embarrassed about my dark tights with a runner at the hip.
Father let go of my hair and took my hand from his penis. I thought he’d changed his mind. Then he took my hands and lowered me to the floor. He knelt and removed my tights and panties.
He climbed between my legs and, putting his entire weight on my hips, pressed his penis to my crotch.
“You’re simply bursting, aren’t you, my child?”
Father brought his hand to his mouth and wet it. He reached between us and spread the top of my lips with his soaked fingers.
My clit laid exposed to his penis. Long, full strokes along his length sent tremors through my young body. I raised my hips to meet his. I fought to gather the energy in my crotch.
“Ruth. Ruth. Ruth.” Over and over, Father whispered my name.
I prayed that he wouldn’t stop. I prayed for the release I knew Father would find for me.
I prayed and prayed.
And God heard.
• • •
has been writing erotica for five years, publishing over two dozen short stories. Her work can be found in The Very Best of Best American Erotica 2008, at Ruthies Club in and several anthologies including the recently published Best Lesbian Love Stories 2009. A mixture of her perversions can be found at www.rowanelizabeth.com.
