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Sonya gave her hair a last tousle and smeared a respectable plum lipstick across her lips, following with a thorough blotting. After a quick inspection in the mirror, she was satisfied with her modest and conservative appearance. Her crisp, white blouse and high-waisted, black pencil skirt made her look like a virginal secretary, although her red heels clearly hinted at something else entirely. Almost to make up for such a prim demeanor, Sonya had donned her most sexual and depraved undergarments. Although they were over a decade old and smelled a little musty, they were still in perfect condition: her black, silk thong had a vivid, red, lace trim and the slit along the middle of its length was unobtrusive unless she spread her legs. The matching bra was of the push-up variety and barely covered her nipples, her breasts perfectly lifted round mounds of flesh that reminded her of burlesque dancers. Ha, that is definitely a good thing, she thought. Why haven’t I worn these in such a long time? The feeling is most definitely exquisite!
Giving a curt nod to her reflection, she smiled as she made her way downstairs. “David? David!” she called. “My appointment is in ten minutes and it takes that long to drive there. David?”
“In here, sweetheart.”
“For heaven’s sake, you had to go right now?” Sonya exclaimed upon seeing her husband sitting on the toilet… again. “What is this? The fourteenth time today?”
David laughed, and with a sheepish grin said “I am so lucky to have such an attentive wife, keeping track of all my bowel movements.”
Sonya rolled her eyes and tried to suppress her smile. “Just hurry up. I’m all ready and just waiting for you.” She walked down the hallway, away from her husband’s very distinct malodor and waited by the front door, absently eyeing herself in the mirror and thinking of her current situation. It is just so bizarre, she thought. It was not that long ago that her and David’s relationship was dead in the water. She would have thought that after her intense, sexual encounter with the stranger at the cinema it was time to put her and her husband out of their misery and finally end the marriage, but something strange and wonderful had resulted from her infidelity. The experience had released something that had been caged within her for a long time. Sonya wasn’t sure exactly what that was, but she had definitely lightened up and marital sex had resumed with gusto. I am absolutely positive it was more than a release of sexual tension, she mused. No, that is far too simplistic. Whatever the burden was that I had shouldered, I am just glad it is gone.
Suddenly Sonya had an epiphany. Perhaps it isn’t so strange after all, she thought. Perhaps that is why couples attend swinger’s parties. In all the websites she had visited, the featured photos were invariably of middle-aged married couples, seemingly long-time partners. Curiosity alone had led her to such information and she had always been appalled at the thought of actually attending such a party, but she felt she understood the motivation behind the guests a lot more and no longer found it quite so shocking. Sure, you get to have sex with other people, specifically people that aren’t your wife or husband, but maybe such experiences provide a relationship jump-start, so to speak.
Her thoughts wandered back to the stranger once more and her chest felt as though guilt and regret were a thick and sticky concoction that had been poured into it and was slowly drowning her from within. It is such a contradiction, she thought. How is it possible to have been so aroused and yet so disgusted by an experience. It is as if pleasure and remorse have been at war within me, in exactly the same measured amounts. If it wasn’t for the damn guilt… It had been eating away at Sonya’s once treasured memory, tilting the scales, and she had ceased her masturbating whilst thinking of her encounter. Similarly, she had toyed with the idea of calling the stranger and more than a few times she found herself holding his business card in one hand, the telephone in the other, but she never called and the impulse had slowly died.
As the flame of her desire for the stranger had waned and diminished, her longing for her husband had appeared and increased, and although there were many issues they had to work on and Sonya was all too aware of the fact she would have to eventually confess to David what she had done, things were currently a whole lot more positive for the both of them. As for the sex, I have no cause for complaint anymore, she thought, recalling the expert caress of his tongue on her clitoris and his perfectly thrusting fingers of the night before, David subjecting her to an hour of teasing and touching before finally bringing her to orgasm. And not even wanting anything in return!
“What are you thinking about with that devilish smirk on your face?” David asked. His wife visibly jumped as he quickly brought her out of her reverie.
“Oh nothing. Just last night,” Sonya replied, winking.
David laughed. “Now, should I be worried about you going to church bahis firmaları today? Why the sudden urgency? You haven’t been in years.”
“Oh shit. We have to go already. I was meant to be there ten minutes ago,” Sonya exclaimed, quickly grabbing her handbag and exiting the front door with her husband in tow.
As David drove through the busy Saturday streets, crowded with less than perfect weekend drivers, his wife was becoming incredibly nervous. The thought of confessing her sin was nauseating and she found herself constantly wiping her slick hands down her skirt. Geez, if I feel this bad now, how am I going to manage when I finally tell David, she wondered. It won’t make it any easier, knowing with certainty that he will forgive me. Poor David. Her nerves were making her light-headed, and she searched her mind for possible distractions. “Hey David.” Her voice cracked as she started speaking and his name distinctly wavered.
“I have something to show you,” she sung.
He turned his head and upon seeing her face, asked “Are you okay? You’re looking a tad pale.”
“I’m fine… just a little nervous. So would you like to see what I want to show you?” She tried to swallow the lump in her throat and took a few deep breaths to stay the feeling of vertigo.
“Sure darling,” David said. Sonya wriggled her skirt up as far she could muster and then arched her back and raised her buttocks, lifting her skirt to her navel in one swift motion.
“Remember these?” she asked, motioning toward her groin.
“This might jog your memory.” She spread her legs wide and the black and red panties flashed against her pale skin. Lowering her hands, she parted the two sides to her underwear, revealing the bare skin of her freshly shaven pussy.
“No! Sonya!” David virtually roared, and burst into loud laughter. “What on earth made you put them on for church?” Sonya shrugged and they both were overtaken by fits of giggles. “That is so inappropriate. Now my darling, do you remember this?” he asked as he moved his hand to her exposed thigh, caressing her all the way up to her pussy and then gently probing between her lips with his finger.
“Mmm, it has been a long time since you have done that, hasn’t it?” When they were much, much younger, it was a common scenario when they were driving to virtually any occasion. David was now sliding his finger easily between her moist lips, and every time he reached her clitoris he gave it a small rub. Sonya relaxed back into the seat and let out a small sigh, her pussy becoming wet and her clit throbbing for his touch.
“Oh damn, we are here already,” said David with mock sincerity as he slowly pulled his hand away from her vagina. She groaned with her displeasure and struggled to pull down her skirt. “You know Sonya, I am really sorry things have been so bad between us,” he added quietly. “You know it’s going to get better, right? We were just in a rut. And I’ll take care of you as soon as I get you home later, okay?”
“Yes David,” Sonya said softly, her guilt and nerves having returned as soon as he had stopped pleasuring her and now intensified by his gentle words. “I’ll call you when I’m done. Have fun watching the game and say hi to Clare and Derek for me.”
“Will do. Say hi to Father Michael for me, although I haven’t seen him since our wedding,” he laughed. Sonya climbed out of the car and David seemed to study her face for a moment, wearing an odd expression. “I love you no matter what, okay?”
“Okay… I love you too,” said Sonya and she waved as her husband slowly drove away. He knows, she thought. He doesn’t know exactly what happened, but he definitely knows something is up. In fact, I think he doesn’t want to know for the moment and he’s just happy with how things have improved between us. Eventually though, it will eat away at him and he will have to know. She tried to shrug off her mood and she physically braced herself as she approached the ornately carved, wooden doors of the church. She had been raised here, attending every weekend, and hadn’t been back in years, but the memories came flooding back. Sonya was thankful that they were drowning out her current worries.
She stepped inside and the cool, dusty air seemed to eddy around her body as she displaced it, as if telling her she was a foreign entity that did not belong there. As much as she had resented Sunday school as a child with its pinched, monotonous instructors and excessive references to Hell and damnation, she had always loved the church itself. It had always felt as old as time, with its stonework and high wooden beams, and at the right times of day sunshine would burst through the stain-glassed windows to color the dull, grey interior with a kaleidoscope of color and light. Like certain older libraries, it had an almost tangible, quiet solemnity that pressed in on her and for some reason she had always enjoyed that physical sensation the building had elicited.
And then there was Father Michael. Everyone had always loved him. His open face and gentle demeanor relaxed even the kaçak iddaa stiffest attendees, and his sparkling eyes and kindly wrinkles revealed his warm nature immediately. He had always reminded her of a priestly Santa Claus, exuding warmth and tenderness. He was a sharp contrast to most other priests Sonya had met, who always looked as though they were overtaken by forced restraint and seemed to hold their judgmental expressions as close as they did their Bibles. Father Michael was precisely the reason she had come to confess here, and she made her way slowly through the empty loftiness of the hall to the confessional booth. I am so glad I came here and organized this later time with Father Michael. I don’t think I would have been able to go through with this if other people were around, Sonya thought.
Having shut the small door, Sonya sat in the darkness and attempted to compose herself, considering how she would word her sinful deed exactly. The long minutes dragged by and she eventually gave up, knowing that when the time came her confession would tumble from her mouth like an avalanche and that any preparation would be completely redundant. Just as she was about to emerge from the small, black booth and search for the priest, she heard a door quietly sing from its hinges and then the panel suddenly slid open. It’s time, she thought. Here goes nothing! She made the sign of the cross upon her breast and said “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been… umm… it has been quite a few years since my last confession.”
“How many years exactly?” a voice boomed. Sonya was jolted into absolute stillness, the strange voice resonant and powerfully authoritative, a shocking contrast to the voice she was expecting. She sat for a moment, attempting to gather her wits, her mind swirling with blankness.
“Umm… I was expecting Father Michael…”
“Now is not the time for that,” the voice commanded, cutting her off. “This is confession. So I ask again, how — many — years — exactly?”
“Five years, it has been five years,” Sonya lied, the strange priest causing her mind to become a jumble, her composure completely shattered.
“Hmmm.” The disapproval was clear in his tone. “Now begin your confession,” the priest demanded.
“Well, I… I mean I… I was unfaithful. Once. To my husband,” Sonya stuttered. The silence that followed stretched and was as heavy as thick, winter fog.
“And what were the circumstances of this infidelity?”
“I was at a cinema, with my husband. I allowed the man sitting beside me to touch me, and then I had sex with him. I know it was wrong and I am very, very sorry it happened.” She waited for the priest to respond with bated breath.
“You are going to have to give me more details than that,” he intoned. “This is a very serious sin and you need to tell me exactly what happened in order for me to decide your penance.”
“I don’t understand,” Sonya responded.
The priest let out a frustrated sigh and spoke very slowly, like she was a small child incapable of comprehending normal speech. “Start from the beginning and simply tell me every single thing that happened.”
“Okay. I went to the cinema with my husband. It was dark in there. At first I didn’t notice. The man next to me was touching my leg. Then he touched me down there…”
“Down there?” he interrupted.
“Umm… my vagina,” Sonya blurted. Her cheeks burned and she felt completely flustered, as though a hundred butterflies were filling her brain with their ceaseless flapping. She knew the priest was being highly inappropriate, but she felt trapped by his authority, regressing to when she was a school girl being reprimanded in the head master’s office, completely under his control.
“That’s better,” he informed her. “Now go on. How exactly did he touch you?” his deep, resounding voice becoming a little husky.
“Well… he was rubbing me up and down the length of my… umm… vagina. Then he moved my panties to the side and he was touching my bare skin, still rubbing up and down… is this really necessary?” Sonya asked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact it is. You do want your soul to be saved, don’t you child? Now continue, and there had better be no more silly interruptions,” the priest warned.
“Okay. Well he was putting pressure on my… umm… clitoris, as he moved to the front and when he reached the back he was pushing slightly into my vagina. Then he parted my …umm… lips, and he inserted two fingers in me, and he moved them in and out. He was pushing them all the way in, hard, and he moved them faster and faster. He started rubbing my clitoris and stimulating my g-spot and then I had an orgasm.” The words tumbled from her mouth and she felt remote and detached, as though someone else was speaking through her. It all felt so wrong, and yet her body was starting to respond shockingly to her situation, Sonya feeling the faint hum of her clitoris and slight warmth in her groin.
“Much, much better. I can see this won’t be a waste of my valuable time now. And what happened when you orgasmed?”
“I kaçak bahis don’t understand…”
“Come now child. You were doing so well. Enough of the nonsense and just tell me what happened to your body when you orgasmed,” the priest rebuked her.
“Okay. Well, my clitoris throbbed and my vagina became really tight, and then it tightened rhythmically around the man’s two fingers. Then when he took them out, a lot of my umm… cum oozed out.”
“Now, was that so hard?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from every word. “And what was this corporal expulsion of sin like?”
He wants me to describe my cum? Sonya wondered. “It was thick and hot, yet fluid. It came out in a gush when the man withdrew his fingers.” Now her body was most definitely reacting to her appalling circumstance. It was all too much… the memory of her past indiscretion flooding her, the strange, domineering priest demanding that she recount each detail, the stifling, black confession booth and her scrabbling, trapped mind. She felt her pussy lips parting slightly with the ooze of her juices escaping it, her clitoris and vagina starting to throb with a dull ache.
“That’s it, my child. And then what happened?” the priest asked. His powerful voice had become gentler, although no less commanding and Sonya could have sworn she heard a rustling of fabric followed by slowly indrawn breaths.
“Then I went to the restroom to refresh myself. When I left, the stranger grabbed me and pulled me into the disabled toilet. We kissed and I umm… gave him head. He then lifted me up and we started having intercourse…”
“No, no, no! What don’t you understand? Start again,” the priest angrily interrupted.
“We kissed, with our tongues. I kneeled to lick and suck his penis but he pulled me upright and raised my skirt to feel my vagina with his hand. He was pleased that I wasn’t wearing any panties. He lifted me by my bottom, my legs wrapped around him, and he umm… teased me for a while, rubbing his penis against my vagina. Then he pushed his penis all the way inside me. He moved in and out, hard. After a while he stopped and pulled his penis out.”
“Good, good. Keep going,” the priest instructed. Sonya could clearly hear him breathing heavily now, as well as a constant rustling of clothing. She was becoming incredibly aroused, the shock of her situation waning as her bodily impulses took over.
“He bent me over…”
“Like a dog?” he asked.
“Yes. Like a dog. He pushed his penis inside me and we had intercourse again. After a while, he spread my buttocks to be deeper inside me. He thrust really hard as we both orgasmed and my cum was dripping down my legs,” said Sonya, beginning to squirm in her seat.
“Are you sure it wasn’t his?”
“Yes. He wore a condom,” Sonya responded.
“Ah… I see. And is that everything that happened?”
“Yes, that is everything.”
“Now what are we going to do with you?” the priest asked rhetorically. The pause turned into minutes and Sonya found herself absently pinching her nipples gently, enjoying the flashes of pleasure that travelled down to her clitoris. I am horrified by this, but mostly I am horrified by my reaction, she thought. What kind of person have I become? Has one act of indiscretion meant that I will now live a life that is a constant downward spiral of depravity?
Suddenly the priest spoke again, shattering the silence. “And now I suppose you think you are simply going to say a prayer and that I am going to absolve your sin? Or perhaps I will advise you that your penance is to inform your husband and then be a good wife as the Lord intended?” he asked dryly.
“I don’t know,” she said quietly. She waited expectantly for the priest to start speaking again, trying to ignore the discomfort of her erect nipples straining against her bra. She briefly considered lowering her bra to release them when her thought was intruded upon.
“No, no, no. But you must surely know that that won’t suffice,” he admonished her. “Your body has been utterly corrupted and there is only one solution. You must be purified, child. The sin must be purged from your body. A purification ritual for your depraved, corporal body is your only hope of savior now. Wait here five minutes. Use the time wisely to examine your conscience and then come to Father Michael’s office.”
Sonya heard the priest quickly exit the booth next to her, shutting the door so firmly it was not much short of a slam, and she was left feeling horny, bewildered and strangely abandoned in the dark. Oh God, she thought, feeling thoroughly overwhelmed and unable to think straight. C’mon Sonya. Get it together. Time to regroup. The priest is clearly a sick and twisted individual. God knows what his purification ritual entails. I should really just get the hell out of here. Her mind was adamant that a hasty departure would be the wisest course of action, but she couldn’t deny her deeply aroused state of being. As she peered out of the booth, her eyes adjusting even to the dim light of the hall, she looked around and noted that it was still deserted. Go, just go already, she urged herself and she quickly walked between the pews toward the large entrance doors, shuffling quietly on her toes to cease the loud, tapping echo of her heels on the stone floor.
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