True Confession(MF, oral, job)

It's hot and stuffy inside the confessional. I'm claustrophobic in my best black coat and heels. I clear my throat, and the screen between us slides back. I can smell his clean soapy scent - sweet skin, and green grass. Father Matthew - it must be.

"Yes? I'm here to listen, here to help..."

"Bless me, O Father, for I have sinned," I say dutifully. "It's been two weeks since my last confession."

"What was the nature of your sin?" he asks His voice is low and sexy- too sexy for a priest.

"I have to pick just one?" I laugh.

"Claudia?" Matthew's instantly on his guard.

"I couldn't stay away."

"You shouldn't be here. Remember what happened last time?"

"Of course I remember. It was one of the greatest fucks of my life. Why do you think I'm here? The fucking wine list?"

"Salvation. Confession. I hope that's why you're here," he says.

"Liar." He can't deny he's got something more than salvation on his mind. "What are you wearing?" I say in a slutty voice, to tease him. In spite of himself, he laughs.

Matthew recovers his composure. Trying to sound stern, he whispers, "You need to leave. In the future, please confess when one of the other priests is on duty. Father Peter will be here at noon. He'll hear your confession."

"He's not really my type," I joke. I see Matthew shifting uncomfortably behind the ornate wooden screen that separates us by bare inches. He gets up, as if to leave. "Don't do that," I warn. "You're not going anywhere." I'm in control here; he'd do well to remember that. "I'd hate to have to confess that you fucked my brains out after choir practice Wednesday night. I doubt Father Peter would approve."

Father Matthew sits back down- a puppet with cut strings. "Claudia- please-"

"'There is more joy in Heaven over the one lost lamb...'" I quote. "Have pity on this poor sinner. The Devil's got ahold of my soul. Hell's probably full of bad girls like me."

"What do you want?" he hisses.

"I want to suck your cock until you scream for mercy. I want to fuck you hard, corrupt you, make you come," I purr. "And you better deliver...otherwise, Father Peter might find out you've been slipping me something a hell of a lot more substantial than the Holy Wafer."

"You wouldn't do that." He sounds sure of himself, but he isn't- not really.

"I might, if you don't get me off hard. Make me come with your hands; your beautiful mouth; your sweet cock. Meet me in the choir loft in five minutes, or you'll find out I'm not fucking around," I snap. "You started this. I intend to make sure you finish it." My high heels click on the stone floor of the deserted church as I walk away, leaving him hot and hard and desperate for more.

As I climb the stairs to the choir loft, I smile, remembering the day we met...

I was at a church picnic with Sharon, and some dull banker she'd fixed me up with. Bored by his male blustering, I grabbed her for a quick chat. We were complaining about being bored senseless when I saw a young man with his shirt off catching a Frisbee and laughing.

"This picnic just got a lot more interesting. Who's that?" I asked.

"Chill, Thorn-bird. That's Father Matthew. He transferred here from the mission in Laos." Seeing the look on my face, she said, "Don't even think about it! He's 23!"

"Just the way I like 'em," I grinned. "Young, dumb, and... you know the rest!"

"Girl, you're scandalous!" she giggled. "You wouldn't -"

"Watch me." I walked right over and introduced myself. He was all sweaty and bronzed from playing in the sun. I wanted to lick him clean, right then and there.

But patience is a virtue. I decided to find a chance to get him alone. Something told me it wouldn't be too tough- he was the type to be easily tempted by a redhead with sinning on her mind.

He blushed- he was endearingly sweet and nervous. "Since you're ignoring me, I thought I'd come say hello," I said. "I'm Claudia. It's high time for the new shepherd to meet the blackest sheep in his flock."

He shook my hand, but couldn't meet my eyes. He stammered, "I'm Father Matthew. I didn't mean to ignore you," he said. "You're very pink today, Miss Claudia." He turned bright red, tried to backtrack. "I mean, that's a pretty dress, and it's pink, too - no, wait…"

I leaned in close and told him softly, "You have no idea how pink I am under this dress. I got sunburned while I was gardening yesterday, and it hurts like hell."

He gave me a wide-eyed look and laughed. "Surely you're Jezebel herself, sent by the Devil to tempt me," he said, flirting a little.

"I may be," I told him, walking away with an extra swing in my hips. He caught up to me and personally invited me to join the Ladies' Chorale Society, which had snubbed me for years. I was secretly delighted at the chance to get my own back on those goody-two-shoes bitches, but I resisted, playing hard to get.

"I can't sing a lick. You sure you've got the right girl?"

"I'm sure. You have a beautiful alto voice…and we need an alto. I can teach you. I'll even give you private lessons, just the two of us. Please?" he begged. I couldn't resist, and agreed to meet him for private singing lessons every Friday morning before Mass.

He soon began to stand too close; his hand lingered on mine when he passed the sheet music. I thought it was only a matter of time... and I was right.

Now, I hear the sound of his footsteps, hurrying up the stairs behind me. He grabs my arm too tight. "You're putting me in an impossible position," he says fiercely.

"Impossible positions? If you wanna talk dirty, let's go back to my place," I tease, making him laugh.

"I can't stop myself from having impure thoughts about you. Even in my dreams, you tempt me," he confesses.

"That's what I do best," I grin. He tries to resist; I up the ante. Tempting him further, I press against him, giving him a teasing little kiss. I lean close, arching against him in the narrow stairwell. He moans when I slip my tongue into his mouth. I feel the hard length of his cock through the fabric of my trench-coat, pressing urgently against me.

I unbutton my coat slowly. "I have a surprise for you," I grin, revealing a sexy little Catholic school-girl uniform- a white blouse and my rosary; my St. Columba's sweater and a plaid skirt; come-fuck-me heels.

"I'm a bad girl," I purr, dropping my coat to the floor. "I need a spanking. Punish me..."

"Why?" he asks. "You look like a good girl to me."

"I'm a sinner... and I have a confession to make." I drop my little black sweater at his feet. He cups my left breast, moaning.

"Tell me more..." he says, with a naughty grin.

"I have sexy dreams about you. I touch myself and pretend that you're watching me. I think about fucking you all the time," I whisper, unzipping his fly.

"You should pray for forgiveness," he whispers.

"You might be right about that." Smiling wickedly, I lead Matthew to the top of the stairs and kneel before him. "Bless us O Lord, and these, thy gifts, which we are about to receive," I murmur, worshipping his cock with my tongue.

"Amen." He thrusts his hips forward, filling my eager mouth. I pull away, flirting my tongue around the base of his cock. I unbutton my blouse; he buries his fingers in my wild red curls.

"Hallelujah," I smile, take a long breath, deep-throat his cock. Matthew cries out, arches his spine; his hips rock in a quickening rhythm.

He moans, gripping my shoulders hard. His joyous release looses a silver-pearl flood all over my tits. He sprays my rosary with hot jets of come. I drain the last precious drops, licking his salty-sweet juices from the gleaming tip of his prick. He gasps, releasing another spurt onto my waiting tongue.

"What are you doing to me?" he asks, buttoning up my shirt.

"Anything you'll let me do," I reply, straightening my sweater. "See you at choir practice."

"Can we work on 'O Come All Ye Faithful'?"

"We just did," I grin, and turn to go. He calls after me, but I'm already gone. I don't need to look back to know he's watching me disappear, and wishing I'd stay.