I Confess

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In the late sixties in a working-class town in the north of England, there was little to do on a Tuesday afternoon when it was half-day closing. I worked in a food shop and Saturday was usually very busy so all shopkeepers closed upon what they considered was the quietest afternoon. My town was Tuesday.There was literally nothing to do so l took to going to the cinema particularly if the weather wasn’t very good. A packet of ten cigarettes (my mother didn’t approve) and the entrance fee and I enjoyed the anonymity of it. On reflection, many of the movies l saw were not very good but l looked young for my age, and getting into the adult-type movies wasn’t always easy.One wet and miserable Tuesday afternoon l went to see a light-hearted movie about boys meeting girls. Some of the girls were only wearing bikinis and it was all about them trying to get off with each other. The boys with the girls that is. We couldn’t have the same gender getting off with each other in the sixties. A man of about fifty came across and asked for a light for his cigarette. Having given him my box of matches he sits down and starts speaking to me, asking me what I thought of the bikini-clad women. Obviously, I told him that they were very pretty and I wouldn’t mind seeing more of what they had. I didn’t want to sound unworldly. He then began talking about what it might be like to have sex with them. Again I didn’t want to sound virginal so I made positive noises about how nice it would be.He then put his hand on my leg and starts gently rubbing my knee. My first reaction should have been to stop him but I’m instantly turned on and let him start moving his way up my leg. By the time he reached my upper thigh l am rock hard and he quickly starts rubbing his hand all over my cock. I had never done anything like this before and l reached isvecbahis over to feel his cock too. It didn’t feel as hard as mine but I guessed it was bigger. After a few minutes of mutual fondling, he said to go to the toilets and he would follow. Full of lust l went. He followed quickly after me and in no time he had my cock out of my trousers and was rubbing it and stroking my bottom. I lasted no time at all and had one hell of an orgasm. It seemed to last forever and I’d never felt anything like it before. Once the orgasm had subsided he left to go back to his seat and I instantly regretted allowing this to happen, and with another man. Suddenly I felt very ashamed of myself. I had let myself fondle another man’s cock and allowed him to walk me off. Instead of going back to my seat l left the cinema in a state of confusion and shame. I remember walking home that day trying to put the turmoil l felt into perspective. My Irish Catholic mother would have had me exorcised if she knew. But I desperately needed to go to confession and rid myself of this guilt.My own parish priest would probably recognise my voice so it seemed sensible to go and confess my sin to a priest in a church in the town centre. Easy to do as l worked in the town anyway. I told my mother that I was meeting old schoolmates after work and would probably go for a burger with them. With an hour to kill before the priest would hear confession l paced up and down the high street trying to work out how l was going to come clean without sounding a complete pervert. I stalled and stalled thinking about what l was going to tell him about what I had done but eventually, there was no choice. In l went and told him what had happened. I expected the priest to warn me of the fires of hell and to never think or do such things again. Instead, isveçbahis giriş I was met with sympathy and understanding. He briefly talked about guilt and sin and how it goes hand in hand. If you don’t feel guilty then it’s less likely to be a sin. As he said nobody died, nobody was harmed. He then went through the absolving part and just before I was about to leave he asked me if I was brave enough to meet him face to face after confession was over so we could talk more about what was sinful and what was not. I was so relieved at that point I agreed and waited at the back of the church until the light went out over the confessional and he emerged and walked over towards me.Father Damian was average in many ways. He was not tall, not fabulously built but he did have an attractive face and a broad smile. He said let’s walk round to the presbytery and have a cup of coffee. He looked to be a man in his thirties and I felt immediately at ease in his company. He said his housekeeper had gone home so anything we said would not be overheard. Coffee made, Damian began talking about masturbation or self-abuse as the church liked to call it (not Damian’s favourite phrase) and how often l did it. I told him as little as possible as the church frowned upon it. He then asked me what dominated my thoughts during the day and I had to admit it was sex. He then asked me about what I thought about after I had cum. The answer was that I had calmed down and was able to think of other things. Often l could be in a room of people but find it difficult to concentrate on what was being said. My mind was being redirected towards wondering if they had had sex or what they looked like naked. Mostly it was about girls but not always.Damian leaned forward and admitted that he masturbated three or four times a week and isveçbahis yeni giriş that I should do the same. He said I would feel like l was controlling my sexual emotions rather than the other way round. To say I was shocked was an understatement. It was the opposite of everything l had been told added to the fact that a priest admitted to wanking off. This was another world. After another briefing on the subject, l agreed to try it. In fact, I started to get quite excited and couldn’t wait to get home and give it a go. I also agreed to meet with Damian again next week and we would discuss how l felt about it.For the following week, I spent a lot of time in my room after work naked and constantly playing with my cock. Every ejaculation brought less and less guilt and I began to consider if Damian was doing the same as me at the same time. I had relaxed into my sexuality and I couldn’t wait to tell him. At the end of the week, l went back to the church and waited for Damian to finish hearing confessions. I had quickly come to the conclusion that I didn’t feel the need to confess anything.The same thing as last week occurred and we went back to the presbytery for coffee. Our conversation centred on how many times we had wanked that week. Mine was six and Damian admitted to four. We also discussed how we felt about what we had done. I told him that any guilt l felt at first quickly disappeared. As he said. Nobody died and nobody was hurt. We even discussed what was the best way of masturbating and what gave us the most pleasure. At this point, Damian introduced the phrase ‘erogenous zone ‘. I’d never heard of it and it had to be explained to me. I couldn’t believe that there could be more pleasure than wanking and reaching orgasm. Damian asked if I wanted to know more. Yes of course I did.He then asked if I was brave enough to stand in front of him naked so he could show me. I hesitated. I told him I would have an erection ( as if I wouldn’t ) and be embarrassed. He then suggested that he could be naked too. That was too tempting so l agreed.

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