Yes, Father

All characters are over 18! Disclaimer: I'm not Catholic, I'm horny. And to my friends who have rosaries, I understand the description in this story doesn't quite match what they're like irl, so be prepared to suspend your disbelief. I am planning on continuing this story if people like it :)

Feedback is also welcome and encouraged!

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Ainsley stood outside the doors to the church, watching the other girls filter out as they finished their confessions and subsequent prayers. Her heart thumped with anxiety. The thought of Father Malcolm listening to her deepest secrets made her want to drop out, go home, and never look back. Public school couldn't be that bad, right?

And surely her secrets weren't the worst on campus. At eighteen, most of the girls in her class had to have experimented a little bit. Ainsley wish she had more friends, so she knew what was going on behind the confessional screens. If only she knew what the other girls were really doing, she might not feel so horrible. She had a feeling that less... holy activities were common at the parties with the boys at their sister school, but she couldn't even find crumbs of rumors or find conversations to eavesdrop on.

Ainsley took a deep breath and opened the door to the chapel. It was quiet, the girls she just saw must have been the last confessions. She walked down the aisle and cut through a row of pews until she found herself standing outside the booth.

When she entered and closed the curtain, she took another deep breath and made an effort to smooth her skirt. Even though Father Malcolm couldn't see her, something about looking more presentable made her heart slow down slightly. Not that being presentable was much of an issue for Ainsley.

She was one of the lucky few gifted with clear skin, and her high cheekbones were highlighted with a smattering of freckles. Long dark hair framed her face, falling just below her perky breasts. A bit of blush and mascara was more than enough for school, maybe even a bit of brown-orange eyeshadow to compliment her green eyes.

"Bless me father, for I have sinned," Ainsley started. "It has been one week since my last confession."

"Go on my child." Father Malcolm's voice was rich and warm, nearly eliminating her nerves. Perhaps it was the conditioning brought about by her Catholic upbringing, but she felt like she might survive her confession.

This wasn't a standard confession for her. Gone were the days of confessing she'd lied about brushing her teeth before bed, or that she finished her homework. She was becoming a woman, and that meant this part of her life was going to change.

"I met a boy at my church, he goes to St. Augustine, so I've seen him around. We met up after school last week and... we kissed," Ainsley told him. With half of the confession over, she almost felt silly. Kissing couldn't be as bad as what she guessed the other girls were doing. Disrespecting their parents, drinking, smoking...

"My child, I must ask this so I can make a proper judgment for your penance," Father Malcolm started, and she could hear his robes as he shifted in his seat. "What kind of kiss?"

A light blush spread over Ainsley's cheeks as the memory surfaced. "Well, we used tongue, if that's what you mean," she said, each word of confession felt like a weight was lifted from her chest.

"If the kiss is the only sin you wish to confess, you may be relieved to hear the kiss on its own is not sinful," the Father told her. "That being said, how did the kiss make you feel?"

Ainsley fought the urge to squirm in her seat, this was what she was really worried about. She took a deep breath and said, "It made me... lust for the boy. When I got home, I was so lustful I... I touched myself."

Father Malcolm clicked his tongue. "I see, and have you... explored yourself, since that day?"

Ainsley nodded. "I know I'm not supposed to, which is why I'm here, but I can't stop thinking about what I want him to do to me."

"If you are only touching yourself, there's nothing against the act itself in the Lord's word," Father Malcolm said. She noticed a slight rasp in his voice, nearly a growl. Ainsley had never noticed it in the voice of another man. "However, those lustful thoughts will require penance. But I need to know the severity of your problem. What do you think about?"

The once light blush on her cheeks turned into a bright beating red. As if he could feel her embarrassment, Father added, "Do not fear, my child. Everyone has these thoughts once in a while, even I do. It is in our nature as humans, which is why we must repent."

If Father Malcolm had such thoughts, the holiest man she knew, perhaps she'd still have a spot in Heaven after all. Ainsley took another deep breath. "Well, I want him to kiss me more, to kiss my neck... I didn't let him touch my breasts but now I wish I did. And I," Ainsley paused. She thought about the right way to phrase it, but using the actual words in such a holy place felt wrong. "I want him to touch me down there, and I want to touch him down there too."

"I see," Father Malcolm said and leaned back in his seat. She heard his robes shuffle again, but didn't think anything of it. "And you think those thoughts while you touch yourself?"

"Yes, I do." Ainsley wrung her hands in her lap, wiping her clammy hands on the dark green plaid of her skirt. "And I want to have sex with him."

"Is that so?" he asked. Ainsley swore his rich voice was growing deeper. "Why do you want that?"

"I can't stop thinking about it, and I'll be leaving for university in a few months... I'm worried I'll be the only one who hasn't had anything more than a kiss, I don't even know what a real..."

"Cock?" Father Malcolm finished the sentence for her. "You don't have to censor yourself for me, I just want to understand."

Ainsley nodded. "Yes, I don't even know what a real... cock, looks like." Even with his reassurance, the word felt wrong, depraved, in her mouth. "But I've been thinking about the whole 'no sex before marriage' idea, and... God gave us free will, right? To choose salvation? Which means he's given us the free will to sin, and I... I want to sin, so badly."

"He did give us free will, yes," he said and paused. She wondered what he was thinking about, wondered if he thought she was the filthiest girl to enter the confessional. "And I understand your desires."

"You do?"

Father Malcolm chuckled. "I do, it hasn't been that long since I was your age." It was true, in comparison to the priest at her church, Father Malcolm was much younger. Ainsley didn't know exactly how old, but she had always assumed Father Malcolm was in his late twenties, perhaps his early thirties.

"So what do I do?" Ainsley asked. "I don't want to enter the world completely clueless, but I also don't want God to hate me."

"My child, you should know better by now," Father Malcolm started. Ainsley braced for his scolding. "Our God will never hate you, he is too good, and despite your impure thoughts you are still a pure child of His."

A wave of relief washed over her, Father Malcolm was much more gentle than she expected. "So what does that mean, what do I do about my thoughts?"

There was silence on the other side of the partition. Finally, Father Malcolm's deep voice filled the space again, "Kneel."

"What?"

"Kneel."

Ainsley wasn't sure what he meant, or what he was planning, but she wasn't one to disobey a holy man. She stood up and lowered herself to her knees in the space between the seat and the curtain. There was silence for a moment, until she heard Father Malcolm rise from his seat and open the curtain on his side. Another moment, and he pushed the curtain on her side open.

She looked up at him. The light filtering in through the stained glass windows backlighting his figure made him look like an angel sent from God. If Lucifer was said to be beautiful, the apostles forgot to mention Father Malcolm. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw his stern face staring down at her.

His lips were pursed in a thin line, and his brows were drawn together. She feared the brooding anger in his dark eyes, with eyelashes that looked like they had been individually painted by Michelangelo himself. Father's brown hair fell loosely around his face. The longer strands tucked behind his ear cascaded down his neck, stopping just below his chin.

Father Malcolm reached out and cupped her face with one hand, rubbing his thumb on her cheek. It was only seconds, but his silence felt like an excruciating hour. "Do you wish to learn, under the guidance of the Lord?" he asked quietly. His words hung in the air between them, accompanied only by their breathing.

"I don't want to sin," she whispered. The words themselves were a sin, but she didn't know what to do except lie. If Father Malcolm was offering to indulge her, she would accept. Once he started working at St. Mary's, issues with attendance to the holy hour all but disappeared.

Father Malcolm's thumb traced over her lips, and he took a deep breath. His touch sparked an electric current that coursed through her entire body, all the way down to the region she was confessing about mere minutes before. "I don't think the Lord would want his child to worry, in the way that you do. If I assisted in your exploration, helped ease your fears, and helped you feel ready to face the world... I believe he wouldn't want you to worry about the things you do."

Ainsley stilled her body, but the sole of her shoe was so close to the parts she had touched. As her mind filled with images of Father Malcolm, of them together, it was hard to refrain from teasing herself. "Father?" she asked.

"Yes, my child?"

"I'm having impure thoughts," she said and took his thumb into her mouth. She sucked on it briefly, before pulling her head back. "Of you."

Father Malcolm didn't say anything for a moment, and she realized the anger in his eyes was desire. "Give me your hand," he commanded.

She raised it for him, and he took it in his. Despite his gentle touch, his calloused hands were rough on her soft and supple skin. He pushed his robes aside with his free hand and guided hers to his crotch.

Ainsley gasped at the sensation. It was hard, and she could feel the warmth through his slacks. He moved her hand up and down, groaning quietly as he did so. She could feel it pulsing, jumping at each touch.

"Ainsley," he started, and her name sounded holy coming from his mouth. Father Malcolm enunciated every word, "Do you want to see my cock?"

Her light eyes flitted between his face, and her hand on his bulge. She hadn't even noticed that he wasn't guiding her anymore, and she was rubbing the outline of his hard cock on her own. The worries of her sins still filled the back of her mind, but all she could think about was the growing heat in her panties and the hard cock she now had the opportunity to see. Ainsley nodded. "I do."

He removed his hand from her face and Ainsley instantly missed the warmth of his touch. The only sound filling the chapel was Father Malcolm undoing the buckle of his belt. He pushed it aside and unbuttoned his pants. The only thing left was his tight boxers, which didn't leave much to the imagination. Father Malcolm took her hand and placed it on his bulge again, allowing her to grow comfortable. "Pull it out when you're ready," he told her.

Ainsley nodded. Even though she had already done so much wrong in the eyes of the Lord, it felt like the point of no return. The pulsing was more apparent through the thin fabric, and it didn't take Ainsley long for her desire to take over. She pulled the hem of his boxers down and his cock sprang free. Ainsley let out a soft gasp as the angry purple head landed less than a few inches from her face. "Go ahead and touch it, it won't bite," he told her.

She reached out and wrapped one of her hands around the shaft. Father Malcolm groaned again, and Ainsley could feel each throbbing vein in her palm. She looked up at him and asked, "Should I... lick it?" He nodded silently and watched her.

The only book she'd ever managed to read with a sex scene briefly described what a blowjob was, and it was already proving to be useful. Ainsley leaned forward and stuck her tongue out, licking from the ridge at the underside to the tip. As soon as her tongue touched his cock, Father Malcolm sucked in a sharp breath. Ainsley assumed it meant it was working. "Father?"

He took a breath and responded, "Yes, my child?"

"Is your cock... bigger or smaller than normal?" The question felt wrong in her mouth, but if she wanted to be prepared she needed to know.

Father Malcolm smiled. "I'm certainly bigger than the average, by about two inches. But don't worry, I won't be too big for you."

Ainsley nodded and licked the tip again. She wasn't worried about his size, but she had to admit it was intimidating. Ainsley started to move her hand along the shaft, wanting to explore more.

"Ainsley," Father Malcolm said, and she froze. "Before you move your hand like that, make sure the cock is lubricated enough. Otherwise, it's too rough, and men are sensitive."

Ainsley nodded and stared at his cock, re-calculating her approach. "Should I...." She trailed off and pulled his cock up with one hand. Ainsley leaned in and licked from the base of his cock to the bottom of her hand. Ainsley looked up at him, and he was looking down at her with a smile. He nodded in encouragement, and she repeated the slow lick from base to tip. She licked it a handful of times, and once it was glistening with her spit she moved her hand back down to the shaft.

She moved her hand back and forth on the shaft, and her hand slid with little resistance. "You're doing a wonderful job," he said and placed his hand on her head. He didn't push, but something about the action ignited the warmth in her panties even more.

Ainsley licked the tip of his cock again and ran her tongue over the dimple. She noticed it was salty, and out of curiosity licked it for more. Father Malcolm let out a moan, a deliciously deep and warm sound. She swore she could feel the vibrations of the timbre, and the obvious sound of his excitement left a wet spot in her panties. She assumed the salt was from his precum, which was also mentioned in the explicit scene she read. She continued to lick his tip, using the flat plane of her tongue to cover it each time.

He nudged her head forward with his hand and said quietly, "Try taking the tip into your mouth."

Ainsley stopped and hesitated for a moment. She wasn't quite sure how but opened her mouth nonetheless. Ainsley leaned forward and placed the tip on her tongue, and wrapped her lips around the head.

He ran his hands through her hair and she looked up at him. Father Malcolm nodded, and told her, "Now keep licking, but also try sucking on it like a lollipop."

Ainsley kept her eyes on him as her tongue explored the head of his cock. She found the hard ridge on the underside once more, and she teased it with her tongue. Father Malcolm leaned his head back and let out another moan. Ainsley took the green light and probed the area again, harder this time, and tried sucking on the head at the same time. Father Malcolm groaned and tangled his fingers in her hair.

She remembered her other hand and started to rub his shaft again while sucking the head and licking the ridge. Father Malcolm shuddered and nudged her head forward. Ainsley opened her mouth to accommodate his girth, slowly taking in the first few inches. He looked back down at her, smiling, but his eyes had glazed over in what she could only assume was a lustful gaze.

Ainsley worked diligently, traveling down the length of his cock as far as her tongue could reach. She wondered if he could feel her inexperience, and she blushed slightly in embarrassment. As if he could read her mind, he untangled his fingers and stroked her head. "You feel so good," he said, his voice just barely trembling.

Without him prompting her to, Ainsley took more of his cock into her mouth. In her curiosity, her hand traveled down the shaft towards his balls. She cupped one in her hand and squeezed it lightly. His cock jerked in her mouth, bumping against the roof of her mouth.

Ainsley had a little over half of his cock in her mouth, and she was growing accustomed to the sensation. Of course, it being her first time, it was still odd. She didn't routinely put large objects in her mouth, but knowing all the sounds Father Malcolm made were because of her made the wet spot in her panties grow wetter and wetter.

With so much of his cock in her mouth, it was difficult to use her tongue, but she had no issues sucking. He didn't seem to mind as his hips started to buck, thrusting more of his cock into her mouth. She opened her mouth as wide as she could to accommodate the length and girth, and she didn't think she'd be able to fit anymore. There were still a few inches left, and each thrust left him dangerously close to teasing the back of her throat.

To counter his thrusts, and avoid him triggering her gag reflex, Ainsley pulled her head back. If she timed it correctly, her head bobbed on his cock. He moaned, and she started to bob her head independently from his thrusts. "Fuck..." he muttered. "Ainsley, I'm going to cum soon."

She smiled, as much as she could with his cock stuff in her mouth, and the thought of drawing out his blowjob crossed her mind. Something about having him in the palm of her hands made her feel so powerful. She could make him feel good, but he was also so vulnerable. Ainsley pulled her head back and held his cock up by the tip. She leaned in and guided his balls into her mouth, sucking on one the same way she sucked on the tip, and switching to the other. With the hand holding the tip, she rubbed her thumb along the tip she figured out was so sensitive.

"Oh god..." Father Malcolm moaned.

Ainsley planted her tongue on the base of his cock and licked up towards the tip. She took his cock back into her mouth, but he wanted more than that. As soon as his tip passed over her lips, he thrust and pushed his cock to where it was before she pulled back. He didn't stop thrusting, grunting quietly with each one. She kept her eyes on him and suddenly Father Malcolm stilled, and his cock throbbed in her mouth. He let out the loudest moan yet, and his cock released warm cum into her mouth.

His chest heaved and he pulled his cock out of her mouth, leaving a trail of cum on her lips. He smiled down at her. "If you don't think you can swallow, I'll get you a towel."

Ainsley shook her head and closed her eyes, swallowing the salty substance. She licked the rest of it from her lips and looked at his cock in front of her. "Hold on, you're still dirty," she said and wrapped her hand around the shaft. She stuck her tongue out and gingerly licked the leftover cum from the tip. He moaned again, but she made quick work of the cleanup.

Father Malcolm stroked her hair and said, "You're a natural, I don't think you would have had any issues in college."

"You really think so?"

He nodded, but his stern demeanor returned. "You still need to do your penance, though." Father Malcolm stooped down and wrapped his strong arms around her chest, just under her arms. With ease, he scooped her up and held her against his body. Ainsley wrapped her legs around his hips, and when she did she felt his cock pressing against her panties.

Father Malcolm turned and walked across the chapel. He gripped her harder as he let go with one arm to open the door to his office. As he stepped into the room, he walked to the center of his room and placed her on top of his incredibly neat desk. He removed his robes and hung them on the hook beside the door, and closed the door in one fluid movement.

Ainsley watched him, unsure of what to expect. When he turned back to face her, she focused intently on keeping her eyes on his. He placed his hands on either side of her, bracing himself on the desk as he leaned forward. In a low voice, he asked, "Do you understand that you still need to repent for what you confessed to me?"