The Confession

Penance for past sins is extracted by a beautiful woman in this erotic supernatural story.

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“Bless me Father for I am about to sin,” her voice was soft and honeyed.

She could feel the priest’s eyes on her through the grill. She heard him gasp as he saw her full, red lips. She leant back a little knowing he would now be drinking in the swellings of her breasts pushing like firm pears against the thin white material of her blouse.

She fiddled with the top button as if nervous and it sprang open revealing soft, creamy flesh.

“I… I cannot give you absolution for sins you have not yet committed,” he stuttered, his voice hoarse.

“Is it not our duty to prevent sin from being committed?”

“It is but…”

“It has been many years since my last confession and since then I have taken many men between my lips, circled the ripe, swollen heads of their shafts with my tongue…”

She heard the priest groan quietly.

“Before sliding my lips down their hard shaft, pulling at their skin with a gentle pressure, my fingers wrapping around their balls until the life poured from them.”

There was another murmur from behind the screen.

“Others, I have sat astride them,” she glanced around the church. It was empty, darkness was creeping in and nothing moved in the gloom, “and wrapped my sex around theirs.”

She stood up and her body became a blur as she swept into the confessional box, shedding her dress as she went, the door closing behind her.

Beneath the dress, she wore only black stockings suspended from a wide belt.

The priest looked up startled, his hand still wrapped around the hard white flesh protruding from his cassock.

He was older, his skin had begun to wrinkle and grey stubble showed on his face but, despite his age, his tumescence was thick and long.

“Who are you?” he asked.

She straddled him in the narrow confines of the box pushing herself down onto his flesh, feeling him inside her. She writhed, her muscles pulling at his cock and her eyes flashed as she stared at him.

“You are not of this world,” he moaned.

“Does this not feel real,” she hissed as she flexed her legs sliding up and down his organ with increasing ferocity.

“Believe me, I am of this world. I will be your saviour from further sins.”

She could feel him swelling, pulsing inside her. His hands crept around her behind until his fingers were biting into her cheeks, pulling her onto him. And then his seed gushed into her. She did not stop, she sucked him dry, sucking not only the last drops of his emission but the very life force from him.

He fell back against the wooden panel of the box. His body dry as if he had died and been left out in the sun for years, his mouth open the way he had made others open theirs.

She turned, stepped from the box and gathered up her dress, wrapping it around her as she walked down the aisle. She turned and looked back, no need for a coffin, she thought as she evaporated into the darkness.

First published in Redemption magazine on Medium

I’m in a quandary. I’m not sure which I like most: your ideas, your execution or your masterful ability to pack so much into such little space. Brilliant. H. Zilfiger on Substack

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