Secret Sins Ch. 03

"So," she finally said in a soft voice, brushing a stray lock of blonde out of my face, "how is it complicated?"

"(sigh) Well, I... That would be hard to explain."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," she said, "but I get the feeling you'd like to."

So I did. I just started talking, starting with that evening at Kayla's house, actually telling her about my ensuing addiction to pornography, how I assembled the lingerie collection in my closet for the purpose of masturbation, how it somehow morphed into a secret enjoyment of wearing it under my clothes, what my addiction has done to my imagination and how it ultimately ended up taking my own virginity. As I spoke, I was unburdening my soul, feeling lighter with every word

But that wasn't all I told her.

"So, you came back here," she surmised with a half amused smirk, "all horned up from what happened with Major Hurdle, saw me without my top and... it was too much for you?"

"Are you mad?"

"Mad? No, I'm complimented. Why should I be mad?"

"Because... well, you know."

"You mean jealous. Tara, don't take this the wrong way, but it was just sex. We're not partners, we haven't made any lifelong commitments, it was just great sex. No, I'm not mad, and I'm not jealous. If Hurdle was here right now, I'd thank him for sending you back here to me in the condition he did."

"Oh. O-kay..."

"Tara, I found you attractive right from the first moment I saw you, and when I saw you in uniform this morning, I wanted you. What happened at your meeting has nothing to do with that, other than how it led to us being naked in your bed and having this conversation."

"Oh, well... its not the same thing for me."

"If you tell me it's complicated, I'll kick you right out of your bed," she threatened.

"Unfortunately, it isn't."

"Uh huh. Well, as I see it, you're like me," she determined. "You're primarily heterosexual, or at least you would be if you'd been having sex like most girls your age, but if you get horny enough, you'd take a woman if you found her attractive. I call it, 'supersexual'."

"Supersexual," I repeated, thinking around this term for a few seconds before agreeing with, "I suppose I am. ... So, uh... Are we what they call 'friends with benefits'?"

"Yeah," she agreed, smiling at me and my understanding of our newly evolved friendship.

"But, what if this complicates our working relationship?" I suddenly fretted.

"It won't," she asserted. "I know my place from nine to five and, to tell you the truth, it kinda turns me on. No worries, sweetie pie."

"'Sweetie pie'?"

Her smile changed, turning recollective and maybe a little sad as she imparted, "Something somebody used to call me a long time ago."

Her smile brightened again and she gave me a kiss on the lips. It wasn't a long one, or a particularly passionate one that expressed any deep emotion, more just one born of simple, topical affection. But I enjoyed it and kissed her back. We regarded each other with contented smiles for a minute or two, caressing hips and shoulders, sides and thighs until she brought up the subject of Major Hurdle.

"So, how do you feel about what happened downtown this morning?"

"With the Major? Awful," I replied.

"Why?"

"Why? Donna, he's a married man. A married Officer!"

"So, the fact that he's a married Salvation Army Officer makes what happened worse than it would have been if he was just an average married man?"

"Well, no, I just mean that... Actually, for me, it is. I'm risking my career here, not to mention my..."

"Your what?"

"Donna, I'm a Christian. Not just a Christian, but an ordained Pastor. My job, my number one duty as an Officer, even above helping those in need, is to turn them away from sin and towards Christ. What kind of-? How can I-? How does that gel with letting another Officer do what he did?"

"You said you enjoyed it."

"Oh, Donna, that only makes it ten times worse," I complained. "You're not a Christian, you have no idea what this is doing to me inside. I'm not just risking my career, I'm risking my salvation! And no offense, but having lesbian sex with a woman isn't exactly good salvational practice either."

"Okay, well first of all I should point out that the only way you could have lesbian sex is with a woman. Second, I might not be Christian now, but there was a time when I was. I do understand what you're getting at here and, if it helps, don't envy you."

"Why are you no longer Christian?" I asked. "What happened that turned you away from The Lord?"

" ... I got tired of never measuring up. I got tired of the constant guilt that my faith pressed on me. I was never so happy as when I lost my faith."

"You mean, you gave up on your faith because-?"

"No, Tara, there was a lot more to it than that."

"Well, what?"

"It's complicated."

"Touché," I groaned with a wry smile.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, let's not get off topic here," she said, tweaking one of my nipples and making me jump with a short squeal. "So, you feel guilty about what happened because you feel like you're betraying your faith. The fact that he's married makes you feel like you're helping him to betray his wife, and you also feel like you're betraying your uniform, betraying the Salvation Army as a whole."

" ... Yes."

"But you very much enjoyed it."

"(sigh) No, but yes."

"You say you wouldn't have done it were it not for the veiled threat against you and your parents, but you also say that, because it turned you on, it was also the reason you needed to go ahead and do it, a way to justify doing it, and that you think he knew this."

"Right."

"So, why did you enjoy it?"

" ... Because I'm a pervert. Supersexual, as you put it."

"And why is that?"

"I don't know. It's just who I am, I suppose."

"Is this something you chose for yourself? Your perversions, I mean?"

"No, I don't think so. I know most girls aren't really much into porn. I was into it from the first few images I saw. Really into it, so I guess I just have an abnormal sexuality from birth. Kinda like some people have the alcoholic gene."

"And whose fault is that?"

I regarded her, searching for an answer, but couldn't come up with one.

"Who made you?"

"My parents, but it's not their fault," I protested.

"Who made your parents?"

"Their parents, but its... Okay, I see where you're going with this," I frowned, "but it's not God's fault."

"You are what you are, Tara. You can't help that, and you as much as admitted to that yourself. Even if you never looked at another porn video, if you got rid of all your lingerie and never touched yourself or another human being in a sexual way ever again, that perversion, as you call it, would still be a part of you, and you would still wrestle with the guilt that not accepting it spawns within you."

"Are you saying that I should just accept it?" I asked, looking at her as though she'd taken leave of her senses. "Pretend it's normal and that there's nothing wrong with it? Follow my perverted instincts right down the gutter, dragging my career, my faith and my whole life along with it?"

"Nothing so dramatic," Donna replied. "Just... yes, accept it. Come to terms with it as an aspect of who you are, but learn to live with it like you've already been doing. Except, maybe a little more realistically. You are who you are, your feelings are what they are and, despite whatever you may have learned from religion, there are no wrong feelings. If you don't learn to accept that, to accept yourself... you're going to become more and more unhappy as you get older, and your life is way too short for that."

"It's not that simple," I scowled, looking away.

"Yes it is, I assure you it is. Once you uncomplicate it."

"That flies in the face of Scripture," I protested.

"Scripture is words in a book, Tara. Nothing more. It's not God, whatever that is. Do you worship scripture, or God?"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," I huffed, making that final by suddenly getting out of bed and hurrying out of the room, across the hall to the bathroom.

I sat on the edge of the tub for about ten minutes, finally feeling the full frontal shame of having had premarital sex with a member of my own gender while our conversation bounced around in my brain. She'd made some good points that were hard to deny, but the simple fact that they did conflict with scripture remained and, no matter how she tried to confuse the issue, scripture was the written authority of God, the written precedent of Law.

I dropped my face in my hands, remembering again how Major Hurdle had warned me about getting too close to those outside the ranks, how their views differed from ours, suddenly understanding in greater detail what he'd meant.

On the other hand, he was betraying his wife.

Yet, above and beyond that, he was a Salvationist and his theology was sound despite his own secret sin. He was really no better than I was, but he still knew enough to cling to Scripture and the Word of Almighty God. Apart from my looks, that was probably why he chose me to play with. With me, he at least wouldn't be consorting with someone who would pervert his faith, the one we both shared and held above all else.

I took my face out of my hands, slowly feeling a little better with this sudden understanding, looking at the door as though I could see Donna through it. I considered having no more sexual contact with her, even briefly considered firing her to ensure this, but changed my mind on both counts. As an assistant, she was a valuable asset to my job and, as a friend, (with benefits) she was only genuinely trying to help and her intentions were purely motivated.

Yeah, I know, we've all heard of that well known road, it's unpleasant destination and the good intentions it's paved with, but I wanted her to stay. She'd introduced me to the joy of sex with another person, and I wasn't yet finished with that any more than Major Hurdle was finished with me.

When I returned, she'd redressed herself, sitting on the edge of my bed in her black Capris and black lace bra, her long, black hair out of its ponytail as she tried to pull the paint out of it, dragging it down her hair between her fingernails. I felt a little vulnerable and foolish standing before her with only my garters and bra, my boobs back in its translucent, black polka dotted cups, but she looked up at me with an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

I only shook my head, giving her a little smile of my own and replied, "Forget it. You were only trying to help. I shouldn't have gotten so upset."

"No," she sighed, letting go of her hair as she regarded me with an apologetic expression. "I shouldn't have been talking to you like that. I know how dear people's religious beliefs are; I remember how I felt about my own. In the same way I expect others to have respect for what I believe, or don't believe, I have to have that same respect for them and treat them within the boundaries of those beliefs. Not mine. Forgive me?"

"I forgive you," I said, smiling wider.

"Um... so are we...?"

"Yes, we're still friends, with benefits," I finished. "But lunch break is over, so... hop on down those stairs and get painting. I'll be down in a few minutes, and no, you may not put your top back on."

As much as I wanted to push her down on the bed, pull all her clothes off again and have some more lesbian sex, my mind was still affected by the guilt and shame that had found me in the bathroom. I needed to come to grips with what had just happened between us, the sin we'd committed with one another's sweaty bodies. In addition, I felt the need to assert myself with her in keeping with Hurdle's advice and as a way to keep things at least somewhat sane.

She got up off the bed and gave me another kiss on the lips, then whispered, "Careful, Lieutenant Watts. I may fall in love with you."

As it was kind of old, still available online and cheap to replace, I kept the bra I was wearing, but removed my garters and stockings, replacing them with a pair of Khaki cargo shorts that accentuated my hips and tushie a little better than my usual loose fitting jeans. Not bothering with a top either, I stepped into my old running shoes and proceeded downstairs feeling light on my feet despite the shame and guilt I carried.

We finished the front room that day at just past four-thirty and without a thought as to how anyone who may have dropped by on that afternoon would react to what he saw. But there were no awkward feelings between us and, in fact, we got along even better than we had before our sexual encounter. From then on, it seemed that there existed a sort of relaxed mindset between us, an odd feel that was similar to how familiar she'd seemed when I first met her. It was like we'd known each other all our lives and, given this, I idly wondered how I was going to maintain my professional position with her from there on.

In addition, it was pretty difficult to concentrate on the work I was supposed to be doing with Donna dancing and singing along to her pop music on the radio as we worked, twerking and winking playfully at me the whole time. I knew she enjoyed teasing me, and I enjoyed being teased, excited about the future prospects of our friendship and the benefits it could bring despite my guilt and theological misgivings. Or, maybe because of them.

"So, what are you doing this weekend?" she asked as she was preparing to leave, her top back on.

"I don't know," I answered. "I hadn't really thought about it."

"Well, you've got my number so, if you wanna get started upstairs, feel free to give me a call if you want some help. Or, if you just need a change of scenery, we could go out somewhere, maybe shopping or whatever... maybe just come back here and watch some pornography together?"

"Are you trying to tempt me?" I asked with an innocent smile.

"Is it working?"

"Yeah."

"It wouldn't be the same thing," I said the next day, looking down to my lap as I rode along in Donna's air conditioned luxury sedan, face flushed with the very thought of what she'd suggested.

She wore a rather sexy dress of horizontal black and red stripes, a deep V neck creating eye tempting cleavage while the mid-thigh length hem rode higher and higher as she drove, smiling back at me before replying, "Of course it wouldn't. It would be right there in the room with you. It would be so much better."

"Yeah, but... I'd be..."

"Tempted to join in?" she asked with a wicked smile.

"Well, yeah," I admitted. "At least now I would be."

"You're welcome," she giggled wickedly. "But that would be the fun of it, especially for you in particular. You'd get off on watching it in the same way you do when it's on your computer, but with the nerve-wracking excitement and temptation of being able to actually join if you wanted to."

"But, I would want to," I worried with a guilty smile.

"Oh, I know you would. And how long could you hold out?"

Wearing a pair of semi snug, navy blue slacks with a white, short sleeved blouse, decently buttoned almost to my neck, I thought about my answer while a stream of lurid visuals ran through my imagination.

"I don't know," I admitted. It would depend on who it was and what exactly was happening."

"What if it was me sucking Major Hurdle's cock?"

"Donna!" I expelled, flabbergasted at the thought, but enjoying it just the same, especially the fleeting picture of him with a big, ten inch penis.

"Or me sucking his wife's pussy?"

I couldn't even respond to this, could only picture it in my mind's eye as my hormones started to kick.

"You say she looks good?"

"Yeah. If you like how I look, you'd like her, but I doubt she's the type who would... you know."

"Hypothetically," she amended with a wave of her hand. "Or... what if it was him and his wife?"

"Donna, you're making me all horny!"

"I know, but just think of it... Okay, let's go back to something more plausible. Me sucking a guy's cock while you sit watching. He's attractive, he's well built and he's got a nice, big one that looks sooo good, and you've never sucked cock before, only ever seen it done in porn, and you want so bad to just start licking and-"

"Donna!"

"-and sucking while you watch me doing it, so fucking horny you can practically taste his cum on your tongue while he pulls my skirt up and-"

"Donna!" I plead, a raspy note of sexual need in my voice now.

"Imagine how enjoyable it would be to just sit there, knowing you could join in if you wanted, but trying so hard to be a good little Lieutenant Watts while your pussy gets wetter and wetter, and your nipples-"

I pinched her thigh, making her squeal while I grabbed my crotch through my slacks with my other hand.

"You are evil!" I accused, twitching as I shamefully massaged myself right in front of her.

"Mmm, I would say... insidious. Mwaa-hah-hah!"

"Y- yeah, insidious Donna," I agreed, taking another open look at her cleavage and wondering if I'd get a chance at her body before the day was out.

"On a serious note, though..." she said, interrupting herself with a left turn across Albert Street's traffic to get on sixth avenue. "What are you going to do this Friday?"

"At my meeting with the Major? Good question. I think... maybe whatever he wants me to do."

"Oooh, how exciting... But that could be anything."

"Yeah," I confirmed, picturing myself sitting in front of his desk that coming Friday with my blouse open. What else would happen? What bra would I wear? I twitched again as I massaged my crotch to the thought of masturbating for him.

"So, you have no limits? There are no boundaries that you won't let him cross?"

"Well, yes, I have limits. I mean, I don't think I'd let him screw me..."

"You don't think?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"It's... Donna, I want him to do whatever he wants with me, but I... don't."

"If only he wasn't married," she spoke for me in a wistful tone. "Ah, but then it wouldn't be so exciting, would it? I mean, for you, maybe the premarital sex aspect of it would, but never nearly so much as the fact that he's married and that he's your superior."

Forcing my hand from my crotch, a little embarrassed that I'd been rubbing myself right in front of her, I expelled a sigh before bringing her observation into sharper focus with, "Yeah, it's my old secret sin. The whole situation, even including you, seems so unreal, implausible even, like a porn movie, and that's so hard for me to resist."

"What about the control aspect of it?" she asked.

"I've thought of that," I replied, a guilty smile spreading across my lips, "and I freely admit that I'm getting off on that too."

"Of course you are and, if it helps at all, I envy you," she related. "How I'd love to be a fly on his office wall."

"Especially if I don't have a favourable report for him," I toned.

"Why? What do you mean?"

I explained to her how I'd disappointed him the day before and, when I was finished, her expression was one of disapproval as she negotiated the Acura through a right turn. We'd pulled into a long, narrow side lot that paralleled the long brick wall of a building to the right with Broad Street to the left, continuing past parked cars as she commented, "Tara, that's completely fucked. He expects you to walk around North Central, a representative of an organization like the Salvation Army, asking for handouts?"

"It's not like that," I said, again trying to defend Hurdle by clarifying with, "He wants the community to come together in building a church. Just think of it. I mean, how can a gangster stab someone who he's worked with at the community church?"