Page 358 of Bad for Me

I was soaked, shamefully so, and it was all because of him. What I was doing was so wrong on a million different levels, but I couldn’t stop myself. My moans were joined by the wet squelching as I rocked into my own touch, fucking myself in the front seat of my car in a public parking lot while fantasizing about mypriest.

What had my life become? When had the monster inside me started to slip out of the carefully constructed cage I’d kept it in all these years?

As my fingers slid in and out of my greedy cunt, I moaned salaciously, head thrown back as images of what I imagined Father O’Leary looked like under his robes. Did he work out? I bet his abs were chiseled like a statue of David. My tongue darted out between my lips as I imagined what it’d be like to run it along the side of his thick, veiny shaft, a very clear fantasy of me on my knees behind the pulpit racing around in my brain.

I was incorrigible. Sinful, shameful, and turning into my true self on a day that was supposed to be dedicated to my other self. But no matter how angry I was with myself, how shameful I felt from the things running rampant in my mind, the only thing I could focus on was the naked version of that Irish bastard that my imagination conjured up for me to finger fuck myself to on a Sunday evening.

In a public parking lot.

After doing volunteer work with the Father himself.

Round and round I went, the scenarios flashing one to the next like a slideshow in my brain. Images of his hands on my thighs, spreading them apart as he lowered his lips to my cunt to devour me, chased by the question of what it would feel like if my wildest fantasies actually came true.I bet he’s good with his tongue.A gasp slipped from my lips as my thumb grazed my sensitive clit, orgasm threatening at the edges of my vision already. I sped my fingers, needing to come so badly it hurt inside. I’d never get to live out these fantasies, wrong or not, so I’d have to be content with this.

I’d never do it again. It would only happen once. And then, I’d be done with these thoughts, and that would be that.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuu-” My back arched away from the seat as I came, clenching down around my fingers as my whole body shook. I rocked my hips, humping air as I rode the wave of pleasure to its eventual end, shame and ecstasy filling me in equal measure.

The shame won out, though, and I yanked my fingers from my pussy with a disgusted grunt and turned the key, not even caring that my come was everywhere now. I had to get these shovels back to the church so I could go home and be disgusted with myself in the dark, alone.

6

JUDAS

Usually,my Sunday afternoons were spent relaxing in my church-provided quarters or reviewing the day’s sermon and tweaking it in my notes. Sometimes, I even went on a walk, eager to leave behind the trappings of the thing I’d devoted my whole life to. Feel normal again for a change.

But something about Scarlett McKeen's confession in church this morning had set my mind whirring, and I was urged to join her for her volunteer work this afternoon.

It was pure coincidence and sheer luck that she’d been assigned alone to plant trees at the riverbank. It was definitely a job for more than one person, but I got the feeling that wouldn’t stop her. People around here whispered, and not a day went by that I didn’t hear of her selfless personality, can-do attitude, determination, and impressive work ethic.

Yes, Miss McKeen was everyone’s little angel. She oozed good and holy, didn’t miss a single Sunday sermon, and if ever there was a need in the church, she filled it without question.

But something about her…set me on my guard. It spoke to me in a way I couldn’t make sense of. I had to figure out what was different about her.

So I started by putting on some regular clothes and grabbed a shovel.

Sweatpants felt too casual, but since I was undoubtedly going to get dirt all over them, I wasn’t too worried what I looked like. If Scarlett McKeen had never seen a man in sweatpants and a tee shirt, then she’d been living a far more sheltered life than I could imagine. With a last cursory glance at myself in the mirror, I marched out the door, stopping only to bungee strap a shovel from the shed to the side of my bicycle frame before heading down the road to the city park, where the roster said she’d be.

When I arrived, only one car was in the parking lot, so I slipped my bike into the nearby rack, grabbed my shovel, and headed toward the riverside pathway. Sure enough, she wasn’t hard to find.

Hunched over her own shovel, hair pulled back in a messy bun, the tight workout pants she’d worn to church accentuating her curves as she worked tirelessly to plant the tree leaning against her shoulder, she looked like every wet dream I’d had as a teen rolled up into my own personal hell. For a moment, I forgot I was supposed to be a man of God, forgot I was a spiritual leader whose lust was supposed to be under control, and I felt my long-neglected cock twitch behind the fabric of my sweats. Groaning to myself at the images her posture and clothing conjured, I immediately began to recite my pledge in my head, knowing it was futile but not caring.

I am a man of God. He is my shepherd. I shall not stray from the path of righteousness. Temptation and lust are evil, and I shall not succumb to them.

I was far from the most pious of priests, but I tried hard to live up to the rules and tenements of the Catholic church. I hadn’t touched my poor cock since I took my vows, and to this day, it hadn’t been an issue. I hadn’t struggled with it once in the years since I’d devoted my life to God.

So why was I struggling now?Why awaken for this strange, wholesome, good woman who was an upstanding member of my church?

Was this a punishment for what I’d done in the past? Was God testing me by putting her in my path and giving me these strange stirrings deep within my soul? It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if it were. I deserved nothing less after what I’d allowed to happen while I stood idly by on my mission trip.

Their screams still haunted me to this day. I saw their faces every time I closed my eyes at night. I could taste the bile on the back of my tongue when images of the massacre we stood by and watched flashed through my mind.

My past, come back to haunt me.

Well, if this were the universe punishing me, I’d show it. I would take this hurdle and jump right over it like it was nothing but a stone in the driveway of my life.

She hadn’t noticed me standing there yet, so I took that moment of respite to clear my mind of all these nostalgic sensations and urges that plagued me, and prepared to go to war for my eternal soul.

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