"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee." She spoke the words quietly, slowly, putting meaning into each. "Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us- for us-"

She sucked in her lower lip and gazed up at the statue, her eyes misty with tears. The serene face of the Virgin smiled down on her. The woman took a deep breath. Smoke from the votive candles mingled in an atmosphere permeated by incense, wine, and the Holy Ghost.

She continued, "Pray for us- sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen."

After a brief pause, she repeated the prayer. She recited it again, and again, each time catching herself at the same spot.

As she prayed, she was unaware of the shadowy figure approaching. A large hand clasped her on the shoulder. Startled, she jerked away and looked up.

"Father Murphy!" The shadows of his face wavered in the dim flickering candlelight.

"What troubles you, child?"

A look of annoyance flashed across her face. "I'm not a child. As you should know!"

The priest blinked. Briefly, his gaze wandered. "Of course not, Alice. I merely meant-"

"I know what you meant. But please. Just let me pray in peace." She turned and resumed the prayer where she had left off. When she came to the word "sinners" she hesitated once more.

"Have you sinned, daughter?" the priest interjected. "Perhaps it would help to talk about it."

Alice turned as if to speak, but suddenly burst into tears. She sagged against the priest's legs, sobbing. "I'm so wicked, Father. So very evil and wicked!"

"Come, now," he said, stooping and helping her to her feet. He held her in his arms for a moment, then guided her to the first row of pews, and sat her down.

Swallowing her sobs, Alice began, "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned--"

"No, no. Not a confession. Just talk now."

He was so young for a priest. Not much older than herself. She looked into his face and attempted a smile, but her chin continued to quiver as she spoke. The words tumbled out in spurts. "He was so nice. I thought I knew him."

"Who?"

"He said it was all right."

"What was all right?"

"He said that God wouldn't have made it feel so good if He didn't want us to do it."

"You mean intercourse?"

"It all made sense when he said it."

"Slow down, Alice. Now, this fellow- Did you lead him on in any way?"

"No! I swear I didn't."

"You weren't provocative in any way?"

"No, Father."

"What were you wearing?"

"Nothing special."

"Tell me."

Alice paused to think. "Just a dress."

"Was it- revealing?"

"No more than what I have on now."

"So it completely covered your- bosom."

"Yes."

"And the hemline was well below the knee."

"Yes."

"And you were wearing the usual- undergarments."

"Yes, of course."

"A slip."

"Yes."

"And- and-"

"Yes, Father. All my- I was well concealed."

For Us Sinners
Copyright 2001 by Rod Harden
rodharden@yahoo.com
All rights reserved
Do not reproduce without written permission from the author

The priest's face had become flushed, his voice lowered to a husky whisper. "All right. So what- what did 'he' do?"

Alice licked her lips. She looked around at the empty church, then back at the priest. "Well, he- he began by telling me I'm pretty."

"As you are, my dear. As you are. No sin there." His eyes widened as his gaze encompassed her entire body. He turned away, as though to avoid staring into the sun. "That couldn't have been all he did, though, to get you in such a state as you are now."

"No, Father. It wasn't. Then he kissed me."

"I see. And what kind of- kiss was it?"

"It was more than friendly, if that's what you mean."

"Yes, yes, that's what I mean. Tell me about this kiss."

"Well, it was- nice, really. His lips felt so warm. They made me all tingly inside. And then-"

"Yes? And then?"

"He used his tongue. He started by kind of licking my lips. Then he gently parted them with it."

"I- see. Go on."

"It felt funny. No one had ever done that to me before. I tried to pull away, but he held me. Tight. He seemed to fill up my whole mouth with his tongue, flexing it and curling it around as if he was trying to find something."

"It felt- 'funny' you say?"

"At first, Father. But after I got used to it, it made that tingly feeling stronger. Made me feel- I don't know- gooey, in a way."

"Gooey."

"Yes, Father. But not nearly as gooey as when he started to- to touch me."

Father Murphy turned and regarded Alice again. "Where? Where did he touch you?" His voice was little more than a hiss.

"My private places, Father. He- he started here." She motioned toward her breasts.

"And how did he touch you, dear? Show me." Alice hesitated again. "I said show me!" he repeated through clenched teeth.

She shrank back a little. "Sorry, Father! He just kind of spread his fingers out... Like this." She cupped her breasts in her hands. "And then he started squeezing... Like this."

With every flex of her fingers into her own breasts, Alice sighed, and the priest caught his breath. At last he exhaled. "Enough," he said. "I understand. Was that all he did?"

"N- no, Father. He touched me someplace else, too."

"Someplace else? Where? Show me."

Alice let out a tiny moan. "Must I?"

The priest simply nodded.

Now Alice was panting. Her hands slipped slowly from her breasts. Without lifting them from her body, she let them follow the inward curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, then brought them together in the center of her lap. "Here, Father."

He looked around the church, nervously. It was still empty and silent. "Sh- show me."

"He lifted my dress. Like this. Then he pulled my- panties aside and slid his finger, oh!, in like, oh!, this!" She bit her lips trying to stifle the sudden moans that welled up from the depths.

Father Murphy turned away, his own fingers flexing and grasping at the air, then clutching at the bulge in his cassock.

Between gasps and sighs, Alice continued. "He even used more than one finger, Father. Like this. And he kept kissing me, too. And- and I LIKED it, Father. It felt so good. Like it does now. That's why I'm so wick-" She couldn't finish the word. She shuddered and fell back onto the pew. One hand was a blur, thrusting into herself, while the other gripped her breast again. She cried out loudly as spasms rippled up and down her body.

When she was able to sit up again, she found the priest staring straight ahead. She could see a dark stain in the middle of his black robe. Without turning to her, he said, "What else did he do?"

"Nothing, Father. That was all."

"There was no intercourse?"

"No, Father."

He sat in silence for a long moment. At last he turned to her. "Then there was no sin, Alice. I'm sure he didn't mean to leave you feeling so- confused. You- you should go on home now."

Gradually, as her breathing returned to normal, she managed to smile. "Thank you, Father. I do feel better now."

"And Alice?"

"Yes, Father?"

"I was, I mean, 'he' was right. God does want you to enjoy it. Intercourse, I mean. When the time is right, of course."

"Of course. Thanks again, Father... Bye."

"Goodbye."

She sidled from the pew and headed for the heavy doors in the rear of the church. In the background, she could hear Father Murphy's voice, quietly intoning, "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee..."

For Us Sinners
Copyright 2001 by Rod Harden
All rights reserved
Do not reproduce without written permission from the author