The Priest

Chapter 8

Ash Wednesday was really weird.

Fr. Craig did not approach the band. If he had to talk to Brad, he waited until Brad was alone to go over anything music related for the service. I was a bit more understanding this time, since I knew he was fighting off his own temptations with me.

When it was the band's turn to receive the ashes, I found myself more nervous than anything. I stood behind Marge, nearly panting. I kept my head down as Fr. Craig did the ashes on her forehead. Then it was my turn. I walked towards him, head down, then looked up at him. He looked into my eyes, and I could almost feel the tension.

"Come and receive him," He whispered, and spread the ashes across my forehead. I bit my lip without thinking and he immediately dropped his gaze, looking to the next person behind me. I rushed back to my guitar and tried to focus on the music as much as I could until the service was over.

We didn't speak after, and I left right away.

** A few weeks later***

We didn't talk to each other at all, unless he spoke to the band as a whole. I really ended up missing him. I spent a lot of nights with my vibrator to help ease those thoughts of him. He never called me, understandably so, and I imagined him at home, in his own bed, pleasing himself to the thought of me. It really made me blush hard at Mass, and was even a big confidence booster. Every time he delivered a homily, my eyes would look down to where his pocket would be under his robe. I knew the handkerchief was in there, with my orgasm mess in it. My legs would tighten.

It was now the 4th Sunday of Lent. I was brushing my hair (taking more time to make it look nice) and found myself even putting on a little bit of mascara. I walked out into the living room with my guitar to get my shoes. I didn't even look at Dorothy when I asked my weekly question, since I always got the same answer.

"Did you want to join me today?"

"Sure!"

I froze, then slowly turned around to look at her. She was dressed for the day and sitting on the couch drinking her tea.

"Wh....what?"

"Yeah I'll go!" she replied with enthusiasm.

I wasn't buying it.

"Bitch WHAT???"

Dorothy almost spit out her tea, "You ask me every fucking Sunday why are you so shocked I said yes? I'll give it a try!"

"|I...." I stuttered, "I just didn't think this was your thing."

She laughed, then stood, "I mean, its not. But it seems to have changed you, and I love you. So I'd like to see why it's changed you." she paused, "I mean, with the obvious exception of your boo."

"Oh please," I snorted, "He's not my boo. We haven't even had sex yet."

She did a double take at me, "YET???Okay, I'm getting my coat and you're filling me in."

**

"After Lent?? He said that???"Dorothy exclaimed as we were walking to church. She offered to carrymy guitar for me. What an amazing friend.

I nodded, "Yeah, I....I feel like Ishouldn't do it, but I really want to."

"Well, you do have time to think about it." she said. "If it were me, I would just fuck his brains out now. Why wait?"