...For I Have Sinned

Hey all. This is my first attempt at Erotica, so I hope you enjoy it. Please review... I'd love the feedback.

AR Lawson



She attached her earrings slowly, surveying her reflection in the vanity mirror before her. She was the very image of respect. Her brown hair had been tamed down into a simple bun. Her makeup was minimal, her skirt suit came down to her knees and the shirt was buttoned to just below her neck. She stared at her reflection, still uncertain. Was she modest enough? Should she even be wearing a skirt? Agreeing to meet her devout Catholic mother at church was, in hindsight, not the best idea she'd ever had. Her mother did not approve of her at the best of times. Being in a church only gave her more grounds to complain. Still, it was her mother and she loved her, so she may as well make a decent effort.

Finally deciding that what she was wearing was appropriate, she grabbed her purse and headed down to her car, locking her apartment carefully before she left. Rosalyn was anally paranoid about being broken into. She was one of those girls who watched far too many news reports. She never climbed into her car at night without first checking the back seat for axe wielding maniacs.

The church was not large, nor was it small. It had a comfortable feeling about it - odd for a church, as they usually left her feeling creeped out. Rosalyn sat in the car for a moment, breathing deeply. Her hands still gripped the steering wheel. The church may have seemed inviting, but seeing her mother always made her nervous. She needed to gear herself up. She needed to-

"You alright, Miss?"

Rosalyn jumped as a knuckle rapped on her window and spoke through the gap at the top. She looked at the speaker, a young man. Probably about her age. He was dressed in a blue long sleeved shirt. It matched his eyes, she mused, nodding vaguely at him and returning her attention to the steering wheel. The man moved on, walking inside the church. After a moment, she sighed and followed. She was as ready as she'd ever be.

Of course, having geared herself up, her mother had not yet arrived. The church was deserted but for the young man who sat quietly in one of the pews. It was quiet, but a nice quiet. Glancing around, she saw a confessional booth. She smiled, remembering that the last time she'd been in the confession booth was when she was twelve. The Father at the time had been very kind. She was upset over the death of her kitten. He'd reassured her that it wasn't her fault. The fond memory compelled her to step inside, and she waited patiently for the priest on the other side to open the little window.

After a few moments of silence, she frowned and rapped on the window. No answer. The priest, it appeared, was on a lunch break. Disappointed, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back until it rested on the smooth wood of the booth. Oh well. She may as well wait in here for a while. Her mother might not show any time soon and it wasn't like she could criticise her for sitting in a confessional.

"I don't think the Father's in," a semi-familiar voice spoke up. Rosalyn opened her eyes to see the young man, his head poking through the curtain. "The whole place is empty. I checked."

"Well done, you," she murmured.

"Are you alright?" he asked, stepping into the booth fully. "You seem a bit... tense."

"I'm meeting my mother," she said. "She can be a bit full on sometimes."

"I hear that," the man grinned. He held out his hand. "Steve, by the way."

"Rosalyn," she said, taking it. A small tingle went up her arm and she held his hand and quickly withdrew it. She tried not to notice that he was really quite attractive. Steve smiled. It was like he knew what she had thought.

"This is going to sound a bit forward, and I apologise, but for me, the best thing to help me relax is a massage."

"A massage?" she laughed. "In a confessional?"

"I'd offer you one outside, but anyone who walks in may get the wrong idea. Especially this mother of yours. Offer's there if you want it." He smiled. "Help thy neighbour, all that jazz."

She hesitated a moment, then nodded. What could it hurt? At least it might help her relax enough to face her mother. He seemed a nice enough guy. "And how do we do this?"she asked, referring to the lack of space at their disposal.

"Well now, that one's easy. I sit on that seat and you sit in front of me."

She raised an eyebrow. "On your lap?"

He laughed and shook his head. "No, here..."

He motioned for her to stand and she did so, humouring him. He sat down and spread his legs wide enough for her to sit between them. His strong hands immediately began moving over her tight back. His thumb dug deep into her muscles, provoking a low moan. "That good?"

"Yeah," she breathed as he worked out the knots. It hurt, but it was a good hurt. A great hurt. The feeling of his hands on her body brought back the tingling feeling she'd felt when they'd shook hands. Her breathing sped up, though she tried her best to hide it. Steve spoke to her, trying to raise her to a conversation but she was concentrating so hard on keeping her breathing steady it was hard to speak. Eventually he fell silent, his hands still working away, moving down her lower back. Her breathing grew more ragged and the tingle moved down between her legs. Why was she feeling like this? She was in a church for Gods sake. Steve had to have noticed her breathing. The way her moans grew deeper. She had to stop this now before she did something stupid.

She opened her mouth to thank him gracefully when his thumbs found a knot on her lower back. She cried out and arched her back, falling against him. She blushed, the tingle between her legs growing into a dull ache. She went to move when his hands slid from her back and around her body. He began to stoke up and down her torso, his large hands sending waves of heat over her trembling body. He brushed over her right breast with one hand, stroking it a few times before the hand slipped under her jacket and unbuttoned her shirt. It slid inside, under her bra and cupped her gently. His forefinger and thumb began to roll her hardened nipple between them. She panted, her heart thumping wildly. The ache was a scream now. She whimpered, wanting more but not knowing how to ask for it.

She didn't need to. His other hand, which until then had been resting on her stomach slid down to her thighs. He reached under her skirt, hand moving higher until he reached the soft cotton of her panties. Still toying with her nipple, his thumb began to gently stroke her through the material. She squirmed, panting with desire as he slipped the already moist gusset aside and slowly inserted his thumb into her waiting pussy. She moaned softly as the thumb located her clit and began to circle it painfully slowly. Aroused beyond belief and driven wild by his slow teasing, she began to buck her hips slightly to encourage him. His lips were against her neck and she felt them smile, retracting his thumb and replacing it with a finger. He moved up and down her wet slit, still slowly. He was driving her mad and he knew it.

"Please," she whispered, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest.

"I don't think you want to," he replied, taking the finger out again. He went to remove his hand from her breast but she clamped it down. She found his other hand, wet with her juices and tried to place it back over her mound. He resisted, his fingers hovering just over her entrance. Insane with the waiting and pussy screaming for attention, she gave up and released his hand, replacing his fingers with her own. She inserted two fingers and found her centre, pumping away frantically. Steve's hand began to fondle her breast with more fervour now as he watched her pleasure herself. She began to whimper, close to the edge and wanting to get there so badly it hurt.

"Stop," Steve whispered, pulling her fingers away and moving his hands to her waist. She protested, but he lifted her up slightly, fumbling to remove his belt and trousers, desperate to free his rock hard cock from its constraints. This done, he hitched Rosalyn's skirt up around her waist, pulled her panties roughly to the side and then pulled her down hard onto his nine inch dick. She cried out as she took on the unexpected size of his cock, feeling it fill her dripping cunt. He replaced his hand inside her bra, grasping desperatley at her breast and using the other hand on her hip to encourage her movement. She didn't need to be told a second time. Rosalyn leaned back against him, grinding herself up and down on him. Their pace quickened with every thrust. She raised her hips high and he would pull her down hard, slamming her onto his throbbing cock. Faster and faster, Steve groaned into her back and she screamed as she was impaled again and again until finally she came, flooding him with her juices. Moment later, with one last mighty pull down Steve followed and erupted deep inside her.

Together they sat for a moment, gasping for breath, their faces red when the curtain of the confessional was ripped aside. Rosalyn looked up, her hair a mess and her clothes half off, still atop Steve with his cock deep inside her. She closed her eyes, blocking out what she saw and lowered her head in shame and exhaustion. "Hey Mum."