IN LOVE WITH MY PARISH PRIEST

Breathlessly trembling, "Bless me, Padre, for I have been a very, very naughty girl..." I whispered, already aching for him.
He finally looked at me. His eyes were kind. But there was something dangerous beneath them. A flicker. A stillness that made me forget why I came. I shifted, my thighs sliding against the bench, and I hated how wet I was becoming.
"I remember you," he said. "You sang in the youth choir last carol, didn't you?"

I nodded, suddenly aware of how thin my blouse felt under my dress. Of how warm the booth was.

"And this is your first confession?"
"Yes, Father."

He smiled gently, and I hated that it made my stomach flutter.

I paused. Then added, in a softer voice, "I think... I had bad thoughts."
He was silent. But it wasn't the silence of shock. It was something heavier. Like he was listening too closely.

"There is certainly no shame in desire. Only silence."
"I'm going to be twenty-one in two weeks," I continued, "but sometimes I still feel thirteen. And sometimes... sometimes I feel like my body is racing ahead of me."
The words fell out of me like a confession - but not to God.
To him.
I was only twenty, but my body had just begun to show the things girls like me weren't supposed to notice - small, round breasts...softer hips.
"Take your time," he said softly. "God already knows."

He reminded me of the only man I'd ever truly known before now - my father, whose demise was caused by a terrible stroke some months ago and still had me grieving.
So when I again walked into the confessional box to meet Fr Luke, I smelled his aura again, something in me made a funny sound. I could feel my breasts beginning to swell as my knees touched the hard wooden kneeler. My hands trembled in my lap.
I was supposed to talk about my sins but what I really wanted to do... was learn how it felt to commit one. I looked at the crucifix on the booth wall, but all I could picture was his lips saying my name.

❤️Enjoy this second part of the series "BECOMING SUGA