Page 32 of Forgive Me Father: For I Have Sinned

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked, grabbing my erection in return, giving it a light stroke. His pupils fixed and dilated.

“Can I wash you?” he asked, faintly.

“Please.”

He laid a folded towel down before kneeling on it. Taking the washcloth in hand, he lathered it. The smell of Irish Spring soap filled the air surrounding us with a smell that will forever be associated with that moment in time. Gently, he ran the rag over my face and torso, careful to not cause me any further trauma. At that moment, the only pain I was focused on was associated with the need for release, all else was forgotten. Butch’s eyes tracked every motion the cloth made. Gentle circles over my rib cage, light, caring strokes across the bruises adorning them.

“This is by far the most sensual thing I’ve ever done,” he breathed deeply, bypassing my cock as it bobbed with each touch that was anywhere near it, but he continued past it, wiping my legs instead. “May I?” he asked before touching the very area in question.

“God, yes,” I damn near begged. Until this moment, having gone without for as long as I had hadn’t been an issue but in his presence, I was on the verge of exploding with the simplest of touches.

He slid the damp cloth along my balls, tickling them but still not getting where I desperately needed him to be. “Fucking touch me, please Butch. I’m dying here.”

One side of his mouth curled up, but instead of touching me he trailed the rag lightly up my shaft and across the head. I sucked air in through my teeth, the sensitivity was off the charts for me right then, and I was about to embarrass myself by coming from just the damn rag. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his dick bobbing above the tub side. With as tall as he was, even on his knees, his crotch sat above the rim. I reached over, running the pad of my fingers over the head, across the slit, eliciting the same reaction he’d just gotten from me.

Tossing the rag aside, he replaced it with his fingers. Outlining the vein on the underside of my shaft, up to the head and around the crown. The light caress of his fingertips, had an intense orgasm thumping at the base of my spine, ready to surge forward. As much as I’d love for him to continue, it was becoming quite painful, and I needed it to end. Firmly, I gripped his erection in my hand. My fingers didn’t fit around his girth, so I relied on my wrist to pick up the slack.

Starting at the base, I stroked upwards, adding a slight twist just below the head. At the same time, he encased my cock in a tight clutch and began stroking. Within the first couple pulls, we got into a rhythm, working in unison. Fuck, it felt so damn good to be touched and to touch someone I wanted to in return. Never had a sexual act felt more right to me than it did in that very moment.

“Butch,” I breathed, heavily, drawing his eyes to mine. “Babe, it’s been so long. I’m not gonna last.”

Without a word, his eyes locked on mine. The cadence of his manipulations increased as mine followed his lead. The sounds of sloshing water filled the small room, our breathing deepened. My vision blurred, but my hand continued jacking him as my release came barreling through. “Butch,” I called out at the same time he groaned. His cock throbbed in my palm as warm semen coated my hand, running over onto the top of the porcelain tub.

He leaned over and kissed me. “I love you,” he whispered above my lips. I could feel his breath against them with each uttered word.

“I love you too.”

Pulling the drain plug, he lifted me into his arms and carried me to bed before curling up beside me. Once he had me wrapped in a tight embrace, I was lost in the contented feeling I had and slipped into a contented slumber.

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