Forgive Me Father

Forgive Me, Father

By Sinful Grace

Chimes sound, sending chills down my back. The moment my heels step over the threshold into the church, I get an odd mixture of feelings. The flight response my brain is giving counteracts the beginnings of moisture between my legs and I am at a loss of what to do. The women greeting the incoming congregation are but a mindful task to me as my mind replays the voicemail I received late last night, over and over in my head. The low baritone and honest dirty words had stroked my libido until I couldn’t stand it and had to attempt to satisfy my own needs. The unsuccessful attempt only left me frustrated and extremely needy.

“Good morning Harmony.” Mrs. Ferris halts where my thoughts were heading. “How are you feeling today?”

I force a smile to my face, “I am good. How is William doing today?”

The mention of her husband had the other woman beaming and for a brief second, I was jealous. The look of a woman devoted and unequivocally in love. I wanted that. I needed that. If only I could find someone to attach myself to.

“He is doing much better, thank you.”

“Great,” I reply, taking one of the pamphlets of today’s sermon.

“I will see you in there.”, I hear turning to step into the main hall.

The familiar stained burgundy carpet silenced my heels as I made my way past rows of pews. Some more full than others as families gathered together. The oak walls featuring artworks of glass in many different stages of His life that it gave an aura of knowing you are a part of someone’s plan. After giving multiple murmurs of “Hello”, I reach the pew I have always sat in every Sunday since I could remember. Third down from the front, I make my way to the end, nearest the wall.

The same, urethral affection washed over me as my eyes traveled up the center display of the cross with a backdrop of blue and purple stained glass. I loved that display and the way it always made me feel accepted and wanted. Soft voices began to slowly dissipate as everyone, including myself, began to sit and wait for the service to begin.

Hot breath fanned my neck, “So did you do what I asked last night baby girl?”

Goosebumps broke out over my skin and my heartbeat picked up. The words rendering me speechless. I could feel my cheeks flaming pink and my breath stilled. Air seemed to stop around me.

“Well?”, he asked again. His tone a bit more pursuant.

“Yes,” I breathed out in a whisper. Heat covered me from head to toe at my confession. This is so wrong. So, so wrong, but I can’t stop myself. What is wrong with me?

“Good girl.”, he praised and I crossed my legs at the pulsing those words created.

“Be a good girl and do what Sir asks. I want you to get yourself ready for me.”

As I remembered the surprise voicemail from last night, I missed hearing him get up and move to sit beside me. I jolted briefly as his hand touched my thigh, causing others to look at us. Eyes wide, I shift as he leans in to whisper in my ear.

“Calm down, it’s just me.” He turns and smiles at the ladies in the pew opposite where we sat. “Now smile and nod.” He softly instructs and I do. The ladies smile back and turn their attention back to chatting together.

“What are you doing?” My words, even though are soft, banged around in my skull. My anxiety had my eyes scanning the area around us in case anyone overheard me. I blow out a breath, realizing no one is in the pew behind us and the one Infront of us only had two people in it at the opposite end.

He let out a small chuckle. Damn, that is sexy. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

“I am sitting next to you of course.”

His words come out nonchalant like this was a natural occurrence and it had me sitting up a bit straighter.

“Obviously,” I reply dryly and his hand moving to rub again on my thigh. The dress material shifting as his thumb stroked. I close my eyes as imagination fills me.

“Mmmm, baby girl. Thinking of you playing with what is mine has me hard as a rock.”  

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My eyes snap open, “No.”

“No?” He replies but his hand remains and his thumb doesn’t skip a beat.

I try to slide away from him but I am already against the end of the pew. I feel my resolve growing weak as I realize I put myself in a corner and my body is undeniably responding to him.

“We can’t.” I hiss, hoping I am not drawing attention.

The corner of his mouth quirks and his eyes look as if they are shimmering. The expression on his face makes me feel like I am a saucer of milk to a very thirsty lion. I swallow. His eyes falling to my throat and his Adam’s apple bobs. His hand stills on my thigh and squeezes. Warmth fills my chest and liquid pools between my legs. Oh. My.

“You want to bet little girl?”

Those deep blue eyes trail from my throat down my torso and back up to meet mine. The possessive way they assess me has my insides quivering.

“You know we can’t,” I state. “What would everyone think?”

The warmth of his hand and the tease in his blue eyes have me biting the inside of my lip. The smell of his cologne fills my nose as he leans over. Hot air fan my cheek, the smell of bacon on his breath as he declares, “I don’t care what they think.”

I open my mouth to respond but he interrupts with, “I only care about what my little girl thinks and I know you are not thinking about other people right now.” Tingles erupt throughout my body as his hand slides further down my thigh. Anticipation building in my chest as I uncross my legs.

A noise, undiscernible to my ears, escapes my parted pink lips just as the Pastor steps in front of the pedestal. The room falls silent. He eases back into the pew and I breathe out. Thoughts collide in my brain with what is being said in front of the room but I can only pick up bits and pieces of it. Too focused on what I hope he does, battling with what he shouldn’t do, had me missing the cue to stand for the opening prayer song.

“Stand little one.” He says, his face so close to mine that our noses almost hit when I turn to look at him.

“Oh,” I reply. My cheeks heating as I take his hand to stand. My eyes dart around the room but everyone’s head is bowed. I sigh in relief that no one noticed my awkward state.

With his hands off of me, I had hoped I could focus on what was going on around the room but instead I found myself drawn to him even more. Almost feeling his presence as a beating heart, I couldn’t keep my attention on anything else. I knew this was wrong.

I know it is.

I just couldn’t help the way this man made me feel.

I shouldn’t.

As many times as I tell myself, I know I won’t listen. If I didn’t care about what the other people in this room thought about, I certainly would care about what Kaitlyn, my best friend, would think.

My breath catches in my throat and my body seems to dull at the thought. Kaitlyn would be devastated. She loves her father the most out of everyone in her family and divorced or not, he is off-limits.

“You are all mine little one. All mine. Even if you are a woman, you are still my

little girl.” I shiver inside at the memory of his late-night sleepy voice. The pull

he has on me. “Sir is going to show you what it means to be his.”

Blood rushes to my ears when my heart races. His dirty words like a shot of adrenaline and I can’t help myself but to pant softly as I try to catch my breath. Standing there, next to a man that my whole being desires, knowing I am a virgin to some of the things he wants to do to me, has me all twisted up inside.

The prayer song ends and everyone begins to sit down again. I sit and shift when I feel something in my seat but he places a hand on my thigh stilling me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him shake his head and he pats my leg.

“Stay.”, he orders. My body stills but I frown in confusion. Just about to shift again to make myself more comfortable I feel whatever is under me move.

What is going on?

Then I realize. My eyes go wide and without thinking my head turns to look at him. “What –“


My mouth snaps shut.

“Listen,” he orders. His lips curving up in a smile at this predicament. I failed to see the humor in this situation, but I turn to watch the Pastor anyway.

“He laid on the cross, he took our Sins, for -”, the words faded as I feel his hand that I am sitting on slide under the hem of my dress and caress the dampness of my panties. I suck in a breath. He moves his hand back from my leg and pulls a hymnal book from the shelves in front of us. Propping it up onto his lap, still watching the Pastor speak as if nothing else is going on.

My body feels engulfed in flames when he strokes the opening to my core. The fabric pushing into me slightly. I squirm but he mumbles for me to stay still. His words pointed and I sensed if I didn’t listen it would be worse later. How could it get any worse, I question to myself, but I wasn’t naïve enough to test that theory.

“Now open your hymnals to page 133.”

With one hand, he does just that. Amazed that he can still slowly stroke me and open a book. My head is spinning and I can’t think, let alone sing. The cadence of the organ fills the hallowed room. Sound bounces off the walls in a lulling melody but seems to vibrate right through me as my body is already humming to another tune entirely.

“Please,” I begin, but he shakes his head.

“Please what?”

His question throws me off for a moment and I racked my mind for an appropriate answer. My brows furrow together and he silently laughs to himself. It dawned on me from his messages last night what he wants me to say.

“Please, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

He praises just as the whole congregation began to sing. Low at first and then louder as the song progressed. We both started singing but then my words were cut off when his fingers push my underwear aside and he slips two inside of me. I let out a low moan during a high note. The noise clouded out by the others singing and I wanted to roll my head back as a third finger rubbed circles around my swollen clit.

Smoothly, he thrust in and out of my needy center. My wetness confirmed as he leaned in-between us and says, “You are so wet for me. Such a good girl.” Those words only making me gush more and I let out another small moan of pleasure. “That’s it. Sir loves the noises you make.”

“Oh my,” I repeat but this time out loud. My eyes scan around the room again. Everyone is completely focused on their books that I felt it went unnoticed. That was until my eyes landed on the Pastor who was looking right at me. My cheeks flamed once again as he smiled and nodded. Not missing a beat in his song.

“Sing,” Sir says in my ear and I blush even harder before my eyes fall to the book in his hand.

With fingers moving in and out of me, a building orgasm forming, I crackle out the last words. The organ fades out and voices stop. The Pastor clears his throat and addresses the room once more.

“Thank you, Gale, for the help on the organ this morning. While Sister Rose is recovering from surgery, Gale agreed to help out on the organ and we are so grateful for your help.”

In. Out. In. Out. Faster and faster with every syllable the Pastor speaks. Fuck, screaming the curse in my head. Needing to have more, my legs involuntarily open wider for him. A low rumble fills the space between us, causing flutters to bloom low in my stomach.

Clasping my hands in my lap, I plead, “Please, Sir. Please.” A squeal of need filing my voice.

I bite my lip as he pumps harder into me.

“Now, open your books to page 176 and follow along with us.” The Pastor’s words barely scraping the surface of my consciousness. My eyes close and I am forcefully trying to breathe out of my nose so I do not moan out loud this time. I know I will have a wet spot underneath me when this is all over and the knowledge of that has heat creeping up my neck once more.

The song begins to play and everyone starts to sing, including him after he gives one last order. “Come for me. Come like the good little girl you are.”

He leans back to sing from the book, but the filthy way he says that and the way his words stroke all the right places within me, have me coming hard. I vibrate from my toes to my head and my insides break like a damn. I feel myself soak his hand and I moan deep in my throat as I bite down hard on my lip. I know I will have a bruise but I don’t care.

His fingers still stroke me a few more times till I feel my body relax back in my seat and I can finally breathe again. The heaviness in my chest eases but my slowing heartbeat picks back up as I see the smile spread wide across his face.

“That was the sexiest thing I have ever seen.”, he rumbles in my ear, “I can’t wait to have more.”

He sits back, pulling his hand out from under me, and my jaw drops open as I watch him place his fingers one by one, into his mouth. His eyes locking on mine as he cleans himself of all of me. The look of pleasure in his eyes has me shivering with need again and I know I won’t stop whatever this is between us.

Forgive me, Father, for I have Sinned.

pray from freestock

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