The Confession

Author’s note: I’m redoing the story and I’m starting by changing chapter 2 first. Hope you like it better. Please review it!! thank you every1!

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Two weeks ago, I finally confessed my feelings for Father Patrick to the sexual tease himself. It was a fairly traumatic day. I didn’t do my penance. I bolted out of the confessional, almost in tears and ran into the car and lied on the back seat for more than half an hour, waiting for the whole stupid Catholic ritual to end, too chicken shit to face him again. My mother wasn’t very content about my attitude and scolded me.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to attend his lectures anymore. But I still can’t stop thinking about him. I still desire him and I can’t get over him! My curiosity about what he is hiding underneath those robes can’t leave my head. I can’t stop masturbating about him. I’ve been touching myself more vigorously after that confession. I imagine that when we make love, it will be a very gentle, innocent and sensual night. His touches will be caressing and heavenly. It will be the most compassionate sex I’ll ever have. I must have him somehow. I feel like crying because I doubt that I will. There is nobody else I want!

---

I am at a career preparation class and am drawing a unicorn on my binder. I should’ve skipped this redundant class. I hate the teacher. I hate my classmates.

Oh, thank goodness. The bell rings. I pick up my binder, walk to the halls and stuff my binder inside my locker. School isn’t over yet. I want to skip my Calculus class, which I am failing. It wouldn’t matter whether I attend or not. I put on my coat, hang my shoulder bag over my shoulder and shut my locker.

I walk to the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror. People say I am vain, which is probably true. I am quite beautiful, I must admit. I have a pale heart-shaped face, long black hair, pink bee-stung lips, and intimidating green eyes. I despise make up. My body is also likable. My skin is soft and spotless. My breasts are big enough. My legs and arms are slender. I was somehow lucky enough to have been born without body hair. My brother is as hairy as a gorilla, which is quite weird. So are my parents.

The only thing I’d like to change about my body is my height. I stand at only five-feet-one.

The second bell rings.

I stay in the bathroom for a few minutes until the coast is clear. I walk out the bathroom and I walk down the halls slowly, hoping my footsteps won’t make a sound. I finally reach the exit door and make a break for it. Too easy.

I jam my fist into my pockets and walk down the street.

“Hey! Nice ass!”

I turn and see my brother, Conrad, driving his brand new sports utility vehicle, his head sticking out of the window and his hands still on the wheel. He parks next to me and opens the door. I hop in.

“Skippy. I should call you Skippy. You know, like the peanut butter?” He chuckles.

“Don’t tell mother.”

“I don’t tell her anything anyway so you’ve got nothing to worry about, love,” he says. “So which class are you skipping again?”

“Calculus. I’m failing.”

“Damn, Isabel! Are you?” Yep, that’s my name. Isabel. Isabel Gohn.

“It’s their fault! Just because I aced Math didn’t mean I could handle skipping a level! It’s fucking hard!”

He smiles. “Where are you off to, anyhow? Home?”

“Yeah. Is mother home?”

Conrad smiles sinisterly.

---

We enter the apartment. Conrad drops his keys on the table near the door and walks to his room.

Conrad, who is only twenty-four years old, is the breadwinner of the family. He is a successful fantasy writer. His first novel sold two million copies. My father left us for another woman six years ago. He lives in Los Angeles, pretending we don’t exist. My very Catholic mother treats me in an authoritarian fashion. She doesn’t know anything about me. We’re practically strangers. Sometimes I think that she secretly worships the devil.

Therefore, Conrad is my only family.

I smile at that thought.

I prepare a sandwich, sit on the couch and watch Seinfeld.

After George tells Elaine and Jerry the first name of Kramer, Conrad calls me.

“Isabel, can you come over?”

I settle my unfinished sandwich on the plate and walk into his room to find him completely naked, all six-feet-two of him, lying on his bed, looking like all Greek gods put together. I smile and sit next to him. “What’s up?” I watch his cock growing hard.

He takes a lock of my hair and curls it with his finger. “Make love to me.”

I lift both my legs onto the bed and lie next to him. “But I’m tired.” I bend down to reach my feet and as I take off my left shoe, he says, “No. Leave them on.”

“Why?”

He takes my shoulders and pulls me down to lie next to him. He puts a leg over my thighs and slides his big, rough hand under my skirt. I spread my legs a little to allow him to pull my thong aside and fondle my vagina. I close my eyes in pleasure and let out a satisfied gasp. He moves closer to me, opens his legs wider and slowly rubs his arousal on my skirt. I turn my head to him and kiss his chin. I lick the sharp, tiny hairs of his beard, open my mouth wide and suckle on his chin. I feel his penis getting harder and harder as he slides his fingers inside me. With his remaining fingers, he strokes and tickles my pubic hair. I let out a rusty giggle and shudder. With his other hand, he slides it on the back of my neck and strokes my ear softly. He lowers his head and presses his lips against mine. I feel him opening his mouth and respond. I open mine wide and dart my tongue into his mouth. My tongue explores all the walls and teeth inside his mouth as he plays with my pussy more rapidly. I let out a soft moan and slip my hand down his chest, then his torso … his penis. He moans loudly and, rather quickly, he releases his fingers off me and jumps on top of me. I open my mouth in excitement and spread my legs wider. He thrusts himself inside me and my legs immediately shoot into the air, almost kicking my shoes off. He drops his hands on my breasts and squeezes them through my shirt. I moan, “Oh Jesus! Oooh!”

He pulls his penis back and thrusts it inside me again and again and again. “You and your stupid thong!” he yells. “It always gets in the way!” He releases me and pulls my thong down impatiently. He slides it down my legs and it gets caught on my blue knee socks. “Shit!” he whispers. He pulls my thong upwards, hurting the back of my leg, and my thong rips.

“Shit, Conrad!” I yell.

“I’ll you you a new one, dammit.” He spreads my legs wider and buries his face into my vagina. My eyes widen and I shudder madly. I feel his tongue dart into me and I feel him sucking my pussy lips. He slides his hands down my ass and puts his fingers in between my cheeks. He spreads my cheeks and slips a finger from each hand into my asshole and I feel a major sensation of pleasure trail up from my vagina to my head. I orgasm and I scream loudly.

He releases me and collapses next to me.

“That was... amazing, Conrad.”

He fondles my cheek. “It was, darling. But… can I ask you something?”

I turn my head to him.

“Who is Patrick? You yelled out his name repeatedly when you came.”

I turn away from him and curl up into a ball. “Um. Nobody.”

“Oh, just tell me.” He chuckles.

“What did I say again?”

“You kept calling out for Patrick.”

“Um. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I get up, pick up my shoes and walk to my room.

---

Mother left for Bangor last night to visit my sick aunt. Conrad and I have the apartment all to us. Thank goodness. But that still doesn’t stop me from going to Father Patrick’s lecture. Not like I don’t want to attend. I still want to see him.

I am standing at the door, waiting for Conrad to get ready to drive me to the chapel.

“Babe! Hurry up, I’m late!” I say.

“I’m ready, I’m ready! Keep your panties dry!” He replies, hopping out the door before me. I follow him to the garage and we drive off on our way to the chapel.

“I thought you didn’t to attend these religious meetings … or whatever they’re called. Unless mother forces you to.”

“Well, that’s not true. I do like these lectures. In fact, they’re quite interesting.” I lie. “I like our current lecturer.”

“Oh? Well, you’ve convinced me. I’d love to attend with you.”

I gasp. “Oh, that’s alright. I didn’t ask you to come with me.”

“But I really want to go. This stuff does sound interesting. And I’d like to keep you company.”

“Um. Naaah. I can go on my own!” I protest. “You might not like it, anyway. These lectures aren’t for everyone.”

“Oh c’mon. I’m not some ignorant loser.”

“But--- no!”

He chuckles madly as he makes a left turn. “So, Izzy. Why on earth don’t you want me to attend with you? Do I embarrass you?”

“Well, yeah.” I smile.

He laughs. “Seriously. Why not? Did you forget that I was baptized too? Like you? I should be able to attend.”

“But---- but you don’t like religion! And why the hell do you want to attend so badly?”

“Because I want to know why you don’t want me to be with you.” He smiles cheekily.

“Asshole, drop me off at the chapel and go home!”

“No! I’m going!” He says.

Shit. What do I do? He might find out about Father Patrick. There are a million Patricks out there, Isabel! You’ve got nothing to worry about. Yeah. Perfect.

“Fine.” I cross my arms and turn my face away from him. “Fine. Fine. FINE.”

I see Conrad’s reflection from the window and I see him smile widely. “You’re so incredibly cute when you’re angry.”

---

We walk into the chapel. We are extremely late.

There he is. Father Patrick. Sitting on his little chair, looking handsome as ever, reading out loud some notes from his little black notebook. He takes a glance at Conrad and me and continues speaking. I tiptoe to two empty seats at the back. Conrad follows.

“Mary Magdalene,” Father Patrick says, “is a woman who sinned excessively but was accepted by our Lord Jesus Christ. Christ is forgiving and was willing to befriend the sinful…”

Once again, I cannot comprehend a word he says. It’s like he is speaking to me. Only me. And all I can hear is “I want you, Isabel. Fuck me.”

I stop daydreaming as Conrad slowly takes my hand and fondles my fingers. I pull my hand away and cross my arms. Conrad nudges my rib and whispers to my hear, “See? I’m already enjoying it.”

Father Patrick stops speaking, closes his notebook shut and stands up. We all kneel down. Silence. I hear Conrad whisper to himself the Lord’s Prayer.

Father Patrick exits the room and I hear him walk into the confessional.

The room gradually empties and we all line up to the confessional. I turn my head to find Conrad lining up behind me. “What are you doing here? Go back to the chapel, you idiot!”

“Whaaaat?” He raises his eyebrows. “I’m Catholic too, aren’t I? I should be able to confess my sins.”

“But you haven’t confessed in YEARS!” I say “years” too loudly and the majority of the sinners look at me.

“So? Just shut up, okay, Izzy?”

I turn my head and cross my arms.

My ear becomes warm and I feel Conrad’s lips touch my earlobe. He whispers, very softly, “Maybe I should tell him that I’ve been having an incestuous relationship with a certain someone.”

I look at him in annoyance. “Oh my God, stop bugging me, Conrad!” I whisper back.

“You should confess that too, you know, pet.”

An old lady standing behind Conrad whispers to us, “Will you two please stop bickering about?”

Conrad raises an arm in protest and says, “Lady, mind your own business.”

The old lady gasps, “Well! You’ll have to confess to Father Patrick that you are a rude young man! Rude! I hope you---”

“Father Patrick?” he interrupts. “Did you say Father Patrick?”

The old lady whips her head away and closes her eyes smugly.

Conrad looks at me and says, “Patrick?”

I bow my head in embarrassment. “Conrad, shut the fuck up.”

I hear the old lady click her tongue and whisper, “Rude and childish.”

To be continued…