A Priest Tempted
A Freaky Friday Short
Father Michael adjusted his cassock in the dim confessional booth, the wooden lattice separating him from the penitent’s side. At 45, he’d heard it all…lies, thefts, petty sins…but the vow of celibacy weighed heavier some days. Lately, his mind wandered to forbidden thoughts, his body betraying him in the quiet hours. He shifted, willing away the stirrings that plagued him.
The door creaked open on the other side. A woman’s voice, soft and hesitant, broke the silence. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been... God, ten years since my last confession.”
“Go on, child,” Michael replied, his voice steady. “The Lord forgives those who seek it.”
She paused, then let out a shaky breath. “I’m Elena, Father. Thirty-five, married... but not faithfully. It started small. Flirting at work, you know? But then... I cheated. With my boss. In his office, after hours. He bent me over the desk, hiked up my skirt, and, well…”
He heard Elena quietly clear her throat before deciding to continue.
“I had to bite my lip to stay quiet. This was during working hours and…anyone could have walked in. I couldn’t draw attention. I just took it all without making a peep, Father.” She was breathing heavily, as though she was panting.
Michael’s pulse quickened. He cleared his throat, gripping the Bible on his lap. “Continue,” he said, but his mind painted the scene vividly. His cock twitched beneath the fabric, swelling against his will.
Elena leaned closer to the screen, her voice dropping to a whisper, laced with something like excitement. “That was just the beginning. I couldn’t stop. There was the neighbor. He was young, hung like a horse. We’d meet in his garage while my husband was at work. He’d tie my hands with his belt, slap my…ahem…until it was red, then pound me from behind. I didn’t have to be quiet this time. Or so I thought. I’d screamed his name, thinking his garage was at least somewhat soundproof. There is no telling how many neighbors heard us. I had no idea. Not at least until other neighbors started giving me the eye.” She cleared her throat again. “One of them finally told me he could hear me…and then he asked me to his garage right then and there. I didn’t turn him down.”
Heat flooded Michael’s face. His erection strained now, painfully hard, tenting his cassock. He shifted, trying to ignore it, whispering a silent prayer. Lord, give me strength. But her words dripped like honeyed poison, each detail stoking the fire in his loins.
She hesitated before continuing. “And I didn’t stop there.”
Father Michael shifted again, his bulge pressing at the fabric of his cassock.
“Eventually,” she started slowly, “I got more and more invitations until I had…been with all the husbands on the block. Multiple times.”
Father needed release. It took all he had not to trace his fingers over the fabric of his cassock against the hard flesh pressing against his thigh.
“And the vacations,” she went on, her breathing heavier. “Last summer, in Mexico, I hooked up with a stranger at the resort’s pool bar. He, um, stood behind me as I sat on one of those barstools in the water. He, uh, just pulled my bikini bottoms to the side and, and, can you believe he just shoved his—” she stopped abruptly.
Father strained as his brain screamed for the dirty details. He leaned forward, trying to will her to continue.
“I mean, I’d never even let my husband go there. I—I don’t know why I let him. It-it hurt so bad, but it felt so good.” She paused again.
“And he finished inside me. Right there, at the bar sitting in the pool, people all around us.” She laughed gently to herself. “How did no one know what he was doing to me under that water? That stretch just…did something to me. I could barely keep quiet, Father. I—I lied and said I wasn’t feeling well when someone asked if I was okay. They wanted to help me to my room, but I just wanted to-to…finish.” She let out a quick breath, as though the memory itself took her breath away.
“And,” she continued, “he took me to the beach at night, under the stars. I put him inside my mouth, right there where anyone could have walked along. He wouldn’t let me pull away from him, so he-he…spilled into my mouth. We had sand everywhere, but I didn’t care. It felt so dirty, so alive.” She took a deep breath. “I kissed my husband with that mouth as soon as I got back to the room!” She began sobbing.
Michael’s hand trembled. He glanced down; a wet spot bloomed on his cassock from pre-cum. No, he thought, clenching his fists. This is a test. But the booth felt smaller, hotter. Her confessions poured out like a torrent. She talked about group sex at a party, where she let two men take her at once; anal with a delivery guy in her kitchen; even a lesbian fling with her best friend, tongues and fingers exploring every inch.
His resolve cracked. Slowly, guilt gnawing at him, Michael slipped a hand under his robe. His fingers wrapped around his throbbing shaft, thick and veined, already slick. He stroked tentatively at first, biting his lip to stifle a gasp. Just to relieve the pressure, he rationalized, but each pump sent jolts of pleasure through him.
Elena’s voice grew huskier, as if sensing the shift. “Last week, Father, I seduced my husband’s brother. There! I said it outloud! And it was in our bed, Father. My wedding bed. He ate my pussy like a starving man, then flipped me over and fucked my ass raw.”
Father’s mouth hung open as he held his breath, stroking faster as she had quit censoring herself.
“Father, I begged for it, came so hard I saw stars. I’ve been such a slut, Father. I have treated my husband horrendously. I have lied and snuck around and I’ve probably ruined some marriages. Some of them with kids! Do you think God can forgive me?”
“God forgives those who seek forgiveness,” he said, voice ragged as he tried hard to cover the arousal in his voice. “Please continue,” he added, needing to hear more.
Michael’s strokes quickened, his free hand muffling his ragged breaths. The confessional reeked of his arousal. He imagined her curvy, wanton, lips parted in ecstasy. His balls tightened as she detailed the final act.
“Father, I—I don’t even know how to tell you this last part. I…loved the stranger excitement so much that I…found a glory hole at a seedy club. Can you imagine, Father?”
Michael was close. He could imagine, and he was. He was imaging every small detail, down to her tits bouncing, men licking her erect nipples, the wet sounds of cock slapping a sloppy, wet pussy. He tried to answer, but his mind was not sending blood to the word-forming area of his brain. Instead, he let out a small hiss and immediately covered his mouth.
“I let all these anonymous cocks fill my mouth and cunt until I was absolutely dripping with cum. I never felt more alive.” She paused for a long moment.
Michael was doing his best not to make a sound as his dick hardened, ready to blow.
Elena sighed, “So…I suppose that’s all, Father. I actually feel... lighter.”
Michael’s orgasm hit like a thunderclap. He pumped furiously, cum erupting in hot spurts over his hand and cassock. A low groan escaped him, quickly disguised as a cough. His body shuddered, chest heaving, vision blurring in the afterglow.
There was a pause. “Father? Are you alright?”
He held his pulsing cock in his hand. He spoke, voice hoarse and breathless. “Y-yes, child.” He cleared his throat. “The Lord... hears your contrition.” He swallowed hard, fighting to compose himself. “For your penance... say ten Hail Marys and five Our Fathers. Reflect on your vows.” He paused, wanting to say so much more, wanting to feel her skin against his. He just knew her skin was soft, supple.
“I will, Father. I’m visiting the glory hole again tonight. I can’t—I can’t stop right now. So I’m sure I’ll have a lot to confess again soon.”
His mind went wild. Not as wild as it would have, had he not just unleashed his load all inside the confessional. He sighed gently before adding, “Go in peace.”
The door closed behind her, and Michael heard her heels clicking on the polished floor as she walked away. As his cock softened in his hand, he thought about her at the glory hole, and how he wished he knew where it was.
“Maybe she’ll let it slip next time,” he said to himself. He quickly tried to pull himself together as he heard the confessional door open and someone adjusting themselves on the kneeler. Soft perfume wafted in through the lattice.
“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” the new woman panted. “It’s been several months since my last confession.”
