Forgive Me

Content Advisory: Erotic

The flames from the candles illuminated the shadowed corner. Danielle looked over her shoulder and knelt before the altar. Clasping her hands together, she closed her eyes and pretended to pray. She hadn’t been completely honest in her last few confessions. Telling the truth about the feelings stirring inside her proved impossible. Who wanted to sit in a dark room and spill their guts to an old man about how they masturbated while thinking of the guy who swept the floors of the church?

She made the sign of the cross over her chest and kissed her fingers before standing up and straightening her skirt. As the sun set, the light would shine through the stained glass windows and give way to darkness. The chapel was empty that time of day, just how she liked it.

She also knew that he would be there to prepare for evening mass. The cold, hardwood of the pew chilled the backs of her knees. She folded her hands in her lap and waited. She wondered if he knew she studied him. That she watched the way his fingers gripped the handle of the broom. She would imagine his hands on her thighs, sliding up under her skirt to do things to her that she’d only ever done to herself.

Wetness gathered between her legs and she looked around, still no sign of him. She walked to the bathroom and entered the second stall. She pulled her panties down and tucked them in her bag. Leaning against the door, she lifted her skirt and traced her fingers over her mound. Her legs trembled and she dipped a finger inside herself for lubrication and rubbed her clit.

Small sounds escaped her throat. Sighs and moans. She tried to be quiet but the sensation was building fast. So lost in her own pleasure, she didn’t hear the door open.

“Someone in here?”

She shrieked involuntarily. “Umm. Just a second.” Heat spread up her neck and settled into her face. She grabbed her bag and slid the lock on the stall door.

Peeking out, she saw him standing against the wall, broom in hand and a smirk on his face. His dark hair hung down and brushed his shoulders.

“I can come back later if you want to finish.” His hand slid down the broom handle a couple of inches.

She looked at his feet and shook her head. “No. It’s okay. I’m…umm…” she stammered.

“What’s your name?”

“Danielle.”

“So, Danielle. Why are you always hanging around in a church?” He leaned the broom against the door and shifted his weight between his feet.

She couldn’t tell him she was hanging around to watch him. That would be so creepy.  “It’s peaceful here.”

He nodded. “Fair enough.”

She washed her hands quickly. “I should be going.”

He stepped aside. “See you on Saturday.”

“What?”

“Saturday. You’re always here on Saturday.”

“Yeah. Okay. See you.” She ducked under his arm and made a beeline for the chapel doors. So, he noticed her, too.

****

Danielle took her time figuring out what to wear to church. She was planning to go a little early and maybe catch up with…what’s his name? How did she not know his name? His face was burned into her mind, the high cheekbones and full lips, the straight white teeth and deep brown eyes. Delicious.

She pulled on the sculpted wood handle of the chapel door and peeked inside. There wouldn’t be any service for another three hours. She walked in and didn’t see him anywhere but she heard something. Music. Coming from down the hall. She stopped and listened. It was a twangy sound. Like an electric guitar without an amplifier.

Turning into the hallway, the sound grew more pronounced. She passed the bathroom. There were several doors spaced down the corridor. She had no idea what was inside each room. She’d never ventured past the restroom before.

 She stopped in front of the last room on the left. Someone was playing a guitar in there. She leaned closer to put her ear against the wood not realizing the door wasn’t closed completely. It flew open and she fell on her hands and knees on the carpeted floor.

Shit.

He sat on a twin sized bed smiling at her. “Hey, Danielle. Come on in.”

She wanted to die. Right there. In this little room with the crucifix on the wall and the bookshelf full of bibles and paperbacks. She silently prayed to the God she wasn’t sure existed, take me now.

The guitar was leaned against the bed frame and a hand was thrust into her face. “Let me help you up. You okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. I was about to knock and…”

He laughed. “It’s cool.” He stood and pulled her up off the floor.

“Do you live here? Is this your room?” She inspected her palm where a small carpet burn turned red before craning her neck to look up at him. He was at least a foot taller than her.

“Yeah. Father Michael lets me stay here and eat in the kitchen. I clean up and fix shit. I earn my keep.”

“I know you’ve been here awhile. I mean, I’ve seen you around.”

“Been here about six months.”

“What’s your name?” she finally asked.

He tucked his hair behind his ear. “Mitchell.”

She smiled. “Nice name.”

“So, what are you doing here so early?” He looked at the brass wind up clock on the table beside the bed. “Mass doesn’t start for another couple of hours.”

She shrugged. “I had nothing else to do.”

The room was small with the bed taking up most of the floor space. A wooden chair sat against the far wall. A small chest of drawers was situated beside the bookshelf.

Mitchell didn’t seem to have much in the way of personal possessions, except for a nice guitar with no amp.

“That’s pretty.” She touched the strings. “Have you been playing a long time?”

“About five years. I started in high school.”

“Are you in a band? Like a rock band?”

“I play on the weekends with some friends.” He pointed at the bed. “You want to sit?”

“Okay.” The mattress was softer than she expected and the quilt looked handmade. She ran her fingers over the stitching. “It’s quiet. Are you the only one here?” She looked at his face and for a moment she imagined him on top of her groaning and squeezing and pulling on her. She wanted that.

That’s why you’re here.

“Yeah. They leave around this time on Saturdays to go do stuff.”

She nodded and smiled. “I hoped you’d be here alone.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. Really.”

“Why is that?”

She turned. “Because I wanted to do this.” Leaning forward, she kissed him. Softly at first and then she snaked her tongue into his mouth. She hoped he wouldn’t pull away and he didn’t disappoint her.

His hand slid behind her head and gripped the back of her neck firmly. He tasted like cigarettes.

Danielle touched his face, her fingertips gliding over a slight growth of stubble.

He pulled back. “You taste good.” He squeezed her bare thigh and smiled. “You want me to finish what you started in the bathroom the other day?”

She bit her lip and nodded.

He kissed her again and said, “Let me lock the door.” The click of the button on the doorknob echoed in the room. He laughed. “I should turn on the radio or something.”

On top of the bookshelf was a small black radio and he flipped a switch on the side and adjusted the volume to a decent level and music filled the silence. He smiled at her and sat back down. “You’re pretty.”

“Thank you.” Danielle exhaled and smoothed her skirt to keep her hands from shaking.

“Now. Where were we?” He sucked her bottom lip before slipping his tongue into her mouth.

She reciprocated and licked at his tongue and lips.

The hem of her skirt rose as she spread her knees apart, wanting him to slide his hand up to her moist panties. Instead, he cupped her breast and teased her nipple through her shirt.

She shivered and dug her nails into his arm. She’d been felt up before but Mitchell seemed to know just how to touch her.

He worked the buttons on her blouse and slid it off her shoulders. With one hand he released the clasp at her back, freeing her tits. Lips grazed her jaw and lower to her neck while he kneaded her soft breasts and gently tugged on the pink tips.

She moaned and let her head fall back. She wanted him to touch her between her legs.

As if reading her mind, his hand gripped her thigh and slid up under her skirt.

She opened her legs wider and watched him suck her nipple into his mouth. Holding his head, she panted.

His mouth, his fingers pulling at the elastic of her panties, it was all so intense. His thumb slid over her pussy, swirling around her opening. “Mmm. So wet. You want to come, don’t you?”

“God. Yes. Yes, I do.” She pulled his hair and he growled in response, biting her breast. She gasped.

He spread her wetness around and finally rubbed her clit. “Lift your legs,” he whispered, sliding off the bed and onto the floor. He guided her feet up to the edge of the bed and pulled her closer to him. Kissing the back of her thigh, he leaned in between her legs and kissed the crotch of her panties before hooking his finger into them and pulling them aside.

She squirmed and watched him.

He licked at her pussy lips, his tongue slipping between her folds.

Her eyes rolled back and she groaned loudly. She fisted the quilt on the bed.

He stopped and she looked down at him.

“I want your panties off so I can do this right.” He lifted her ass up and pulled the silky thong down her legs and tossed it on the floor. He positioned her legs over his shoulders and dove back in. He held her pussy open with his fingers and sucked her clit, rubbing his tongue over it.

“Oh, God.” Her legs shook immediately and the pressure built up fast. She was going to come now. The telltale thump in her clit and the tremor in her legs increased.

He slid a finger deep into her pussy and worked his tongue faster over her clit.

Her pussy clenched on his finger and her clit throbbed hard. She covered her mouth to keep from screaming out loud. No orgasm she’d given herself was even close to what he’d just done to her. She breathed fast and fell back onto the bed.

He sucked at her pussy before sitting back on his heels. “That was good.”

She nodded quickly. “Very good.”

He pulled his t-shirt off and unbuttoned his jeans, stripping down while she lay on the bed and watched. His cock was thick and long and she wanted it inside her.

He positioned between her legs and leaned forward to kiss her tits and play with her nipples. “Touch me, baby.” He moved up to nuzzle her neck.

She reached down between their bodies and wrapped her fingers around his dick. She slid her hand up and down and he groaned, moving his hips against her grasp.

He breathed hard against her ear. “Fuck. That feels good.” He pulled her hand away and rubbed his cock against her pussy. Cradling her head in his hands, he kissed her softly and pushed inside her.

She gasped into his mouth and scratched at his shoulders.

“Damn. You’re tight.” He moved slowly, pushing harder, deeper. Something inside her gave and he slid in all the way, hitting her end.

She moaned loud, the brief moment of pain giving way to a pleasure so intense her voice was paralyzed and her eyes watered.

He paused, brushing a tear away with his thumb. “You okay?”

She wrapped her legs around his hips and pushed against him. “Yes.”

He buried his face in her neck and rocked his hips, each thrust stretching her, filling her. His hand traced down her body to her hip and further to her thigh where he held her leg against him.

“You feel so good. Come for me again.” He shortened his strokes, thrusting in and up rapidly. He brought his mouth down on hers and bit her lip. “That’s it, baby.”

With every upstroke his cock rubbed the same spot inside her and her body tightened. She arched beneath him, needing just a little more to relieve the unbearable tension gathering in her pussy.

He looked in her eyes and she turned her head.

His hair hung around his face. “Don’t look away. I want to see your face when you come.” He lifted up on to his knees and plunged into her harder.

Her clit throbbed and her pussy ached. “I’m close,” she whined, gritting her teeth.

“I know what you need.” He slowed his thrusts and pressed her clit with his thumb. “Damn. You’re so wet.” He alternated his thrusts going short and fast and then slow and deep, almost withdrawing completely before plunging in again.

The sweet friction of his thick shaft coupled with his thumb rubbing her clit sent her into a freefall. Her pussy contracted, squeezing his dick. Every nerve in her body exploded with hot pleasure and she screamed.

He fell over her and covered her mouth with his, stifling the sound of her cries. He groaned, slammed into her one last time and filled her with his hot release. His body jerked on top of her and he broke the kiss. “Jesus Christ.” He looked up at the crucifix on the wall above them. “Sorry.”

Danielle laughed and covered her mouth. “We’re going to hell for this.”

Mitchell shrugged. “It was worth it.” He kissed her nose. “I’d do it again.”

Look for Melissa’s next short story on June 30, 2012!

                  

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~ Melissa Ecker ~

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Copyright © 2012 Melissa Ecker

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.