In the dimly lit confession booth of a small church, a young brunette woman with long hair sat with her knees pressed together, her heart pounding in her chest. She had come seeking absolution for her sins, but as she began to speak, she could feel herself becoming increasingly aroused by the anonymity of the situation.
“Bless me father, for I have sinned,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It has been far too long since my last confession.”
The priest on the other side of the partition responded with a gentle, “Go on, my child.”
The woman took a deep breath, her mind racing with thoughts of the man she had been seeing on the side. They had been engaging in carnal pleasures that she knew were wrong, but she couldn’t help herself. She was addicted to the way he made her feel.
“I have been having impure thoughts, father,” she continued. “Thoughts of a man, a man who is not my husband. We have been…intimate with each other.”
She could hear the priest’s intake of breath on the other side of the partition. “Go on,” he said again, his voice strained.
“We have done things, father, things that I know are sinful. We have touched each other in ways that are not fit for discussion in a holy place such as this.”
The woman could feel herself growing wetter by the second as she spoke, her mind filled with images of the man’s hands on her body, his lips on her neck, his cock buried deep inside of her.
“And what, exactly, did this man do to you, my child?” the priest asked, his voice low and husky.
The woman hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should continue. But the desire to confess her sins, to share her deepest, darkest desires, was too strong to resist.
“He touched me here,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she placed her hand on her breast, her fingers gently caressing her nipple through the thin fabric of her dress. “And here,” she added, moving her hand down to her inner thigh, her fingers tracing a path towards her wet, aching pussy.
“And what did you do in response, my child?” the priest asked, his voice filled with lust.
“I let him touch me, father,” the woman replied, her voice growing stronger as she became more and more aroused. “I let him do anything he wanted to me. I begged for it, even.”
The woman could hear the priest shifting in his seat on the other side of the partition, his own breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She knew that she had stirred something within him, something dark and primal.
“And did this man…penetrate you, my child?” the priest asked, his voice trembling with desire.
“Yes, father,” the woman replied, her own breath coming in short, sharp gasps now. “He penetrated me in every way possible. He fucked me hard and fast, and slow and deep. He made me cum over and over again, until I could barely breathe.”
The woman could hear the priest moaning on the other side of the partition, his own hand no doubt buried in his robes, stroking his hard cock as she spoke.
“And what do you want me to do, father?” the woman asked, her voice filled with need. “What do you want me to do with this sinful desire that burns within me?”
“I want you to embrace it, my child,” the priest replied, his voice strained with lust. “I want you to give in to it, to let it consume you. And when you do, I want you to think of me, here in this booth, touching myself as I listen to your dirty, filthy words.”
The woman let out a low moan at the thought, her fingers working furiously at her clit as she imagined the priest on the other side of the partition, pleasuring himself as she confessed her sins.
“Yes, father,” she gasped, her orgasm building within her. “I will think of you, I will imagine you touching yourself as I cum. I will imagine you cumming with me, your seed spilling out onto the floor of this holy place.”
With that, the woman let out a loud, guttural moan as she came, her body shaking with pleasure as she imagined the priest doing the same on the other side of the partition.
“Thank you, father,” she whispered, her breath still coming in short, sharp gasps. “Thank you for hearing my confession.”
The priest on the other side of the partition did not respond, but the woman could hear his own moans of pleasure, could imagine him spilling his seed onto the floor of the booth as she had done.
And with that, the woman rose from her seat, her body still tingling with pleasure as she made her way out of the church and into the night, her sins forgiven, if only for a little while.
