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first time, older/younger, teacher/student
   This text file contains sexually explicit material.  If you do not wish
to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS
FILE NOW!!!!  secondself@gmx.com
   He forsakes his marriage vows for her innocence...
   "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.  It has been two weeks since my
last confession.  I have involved myself in a situation over which I am
powerless to change, and God help me, I do not want to change it."
   A rustling from the other side of the confessional as I imagined the
priest settling in for a long tale.  "Go on, my son," he said.
   "For twenty-three years, I have been a faithful husband.  I love my
wife. I am IN love with my wife.  We enjoy a satisfactory sexual life.  I
love my daughters, they are my inspirations.  I am so proud of my family.
But I have desecrated my marriage vows and denigrated my family, Father.  I
have strayed.  And, God help me, she is just barely eighteen years old." My
voice caught and the priest heard the anguish in me.
   "Continue your story," he said simply.
   "She came to me today for advice.  I am an educator, Father, in a
college.  She was struggling with some decisions and sought my assistance.
I have seen her on two previous occasions and never had an untoward
thought. On this, our third meeting, I looked across my desk at her, as I
have faced thousands of young ladies in the past, having never had so much
as an impure thought cross my mind.  But, she -- this time -- was
different. It was as though I had absolutely no defense.  And, it was the
same for her."
   "Tell me exactly what happened," he directed, "describe the meeting."
   "It was nothing really extraordinary, Father.  The real difference was
simply her bearing.  As young as she is, she does not go for trends.  She
dresses -- like a young lady, with bearing and grace.  She is refined.  And
reserved.  So unlike the vast majority of students at my school.  She
looked at me shyly, blushing from time to time.  Her hair is long, thick,
wavy, and she wears it pulled back in a classic style.  She wears no
makeup, is naturally beautiful.  Her bones, my God, Father, they are so
delicate.  Her vulnerability set my loins afire.  She began explaining a
difficulty she was having with a text.  And, as she spoke, I lost all
focus. I stopped her and said, out of the blue, 'Do you have any idea how
extraordinary you are, Amy?'
   I followed that quickly, leaving her no time to respond by saying, 'My
God, Amy, I'm so sorry.  My manners.  Please accept my abject apologies. 
Please go on.'
   She faltered briefly, then smiled and put her hand against her breast
bone.  She seemed then also to lose focus, my question having changed the
dynamic.  She said, 'I'm sorry, I...'
   'Have you ever made love with an older man?' I blurted.  She was
stunned, Father, as was I.  I got up from my desk and looked out my window,
talked to her.  'Amy, you should go, my behavior, I can't hold my tongue.
You are a fine, beautiful young lady and I am not possessed of my sanity.
We will schedule you an appointment with my colleague.  I am abjectly
sorry.'
   I was afraid to turn around, hoping she would just leave.  I didn't hear
her move.  Finally, I turned and she sat with her hands folded in her lap,
looking down.  Very quietly, she said, 'I have never...'
   I didn't wait for her to respond, possessed I was.  I crossed my office
to my door, and closed it.  I pulled the blinds IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY
with my colleagues in their offices!  I went to her and knelt in front of
her.  I touched her face, her beautiful soft face.  And, Father, she turned
her face into my hand.  She closed her eyes and sighed."
   "Father, the petal softness of her skin, she smelled like roses!  She
looked at me with a growing flush on her neck and face.  I continued my
assault on her innocence as I unbuttoned her dress from the top of the
collar, one heart-shaped button at a time.  Yellow.  Her dress, yellow. 
Sweater material, very old fashioned, 1940s.  Classic, just as her beauty.
Her face reminds me of an ivory cameo.
   I put my hand on her heart and it was racing.  'Are you afraid?' I
asked.
   'Yes,' was her rely.
   'Shall I stop?' I asked, holding my breath.
   'Only if you wish,' she replied.
   'Then I will not.' I told her.
   I stood and pulled her up to me, Father.
   Losing myself in her soft gray eyes, I carefully slipped her dress over
her shoulders, my fingertips touching buttery smooth skin.  Then her slip.
She reached to me and slid off my jacket and began loosening my tie.  I
stood statue-still feeling the whisper soft touch of her fingers on my
neck. She unbuttoned my shirt.  We stood so close, I was sure that she
could feel my starving manhood reaching out to her through the tent in my
trousers.
   We stood facing one another, in our underclothes.  Her lace bra was a
trifle, almost transparent.  Fine veins showed through in her chest.  I
picked her up and carried her to the leather couch along the wall between
my bookshelves.  I laid her down, Father, and laid next to her, softly
kissing her, holding myself back, knowing that I could not stop.  I could
only treat her with the reverence her grace required.
   'May I touch you?' she asked, leaning up and taking off my spectacles.
'I would like to...please?'
   I took her hand and guided it down, slipping off my shorts.  I was
dripping and she touched the wetness, slowly rubbing the tip of my phallus,
using her hand much as a blind person reads a face, lightly, as though she
was trying to memorize my body.
   'So soft, the skin, and so hard.  I can feel your heart beating as I
hold it,' she whispered.
   I reached my hand down and touched her hip bone, covered by a sheer
piece of white silk.  I traced the line between her thigh and her pubis,
gently moving inside.  Her mound was covered by curly light brown hair, I
could see it under the fabric.  I found the wetness and softly parted her
lips.  Her hand tightened on my phallus.  We each moaned, and I continued
to touch her.  She arched to me, Father.  I could not stop.
   She reached to me, her arms around my neck and said, 'Please, show me, I
need to feel you.'
   I slipped her panties off leaving her clad only in her bra, flesh
colored garter belt and nude stockings, such a rare thing among her
contemporaries.  I had to comment.  'You are such a lady, Amy.  How is it
that you distinguish yourself from others?' My hand traced the garter from
her waist down to the tops of her silk stockings.  Her breath became ragged
at the touch of my fingers on her thighs.  Her response inflamed me, and I
continued, coming closer to the still-virgin womanhood I longed to possess.
   Amy responded, 'My oooh umm my family is southern, my mother oooh , Mr.
Wills, and oh oh oooh , I am just more comfortable dressing as a lady."
   'Don't ever stop being a lady, dear girl, you are perfect, my God, I
must ...'
   I tried to hold myself back, putting my hand around hers on my phallus.
   'Mr.  Wills, I would never have said, but I have dreamed of you...like
this....since the first day I met with you at the beginning of the term.'
   Stunned, I was, Father, never having had any idea.  But, of course that
must not really be so, must it?  Why would I have come on to her as I did?
Was it my fault?  I do not know.  I only know that my amazement showed on
my face and she said, simply, 'Please.'
   I kissed her passionately then, Father, feeling lust such as I never
knew in all my days.  Her very innocence and poise ignited my ardor in ways
my beloved wife never has.
   I put myself at the opening of her virgin womanhood.  I tried to
telegraph the strength of my emotions to her.  She smiled up at me and I
found myself smiling right back to her.  I leaned in hard and said,
'Breathe,' as I pushed, breaking her maidenhead.  I waited a minute before
moving.  Her fingernails dug into my shoulders.  She flexed up to me.  Her
young body held me tighter than I ever remember.  I leaned on my elbows on
either side of her, so small she was, petite.  Father, it was as though I
made love to an angel.  But, I was possessed as a demon, my manhood filling
her more and more.
   'I'm sorry to have hurt you,' I whispered.
   'No, don't.  Please, move in me, more, all the way, do not treat me as a
doll.  I am strong, I need you, please, Mr.  Wills!' The urgency in her
voice echoed my own need and her legs snaked out on either side to make a
V. I thrust as deeply as I could, filling her, wrapped in her honeyed
heated grip.
   'Sweet Jesus, Amy, so good,' I moaned.  I lifted her leg, the one on the
outside of the couch, and leaned up to be able to penetrate her more deeply
still.  Her hands went to my backside, pulling me into her.
   The curly hair of her virgin bush glistened with moisture and her full
lips fluttered as my phallus entered her and withdrew.  Deep steady
strokes, thrusting, flexing, as she danced against me.
   'Touch your breasts, beautiful girl,' I beseeched.
   She cupped her small breasts and rubbed them in a circular motion, then
slowly focused on her nipples, which grew with her attentions.  I reached a
hand to her beckoning womanhood and found that her moisture was drenching
us both.  I tasted her from my fingers, then rubbed her juice on her
fingers and breast.
   'Taste yourself, sweetness,' I asked, as my fingers filled her mouth. 
She closed her eyes and sucked, enveloping my fingers.  I pumped into her
faster, as her mouth encircled and sucked my fingers.
   I moved my fingers down to her womanhood again as I felt my sacs
tightening, knowing that soon I would be unable to slow down.  Her belly
was so tight, Father, it rippled as she jerked from the contact of my
fingers to her clitoris.  Her flush deepened and I felt her body gripping
me, and knew that her release was beginning.  She was silent but her body
created an extraordinary symphony of responses.  I licked and nibbled her
leg, still holding it against me so that I could dive further inside of
her.
   'Amy, I can't...I am...' Not knowing whether she was protected, I began
to withdraw and she grabbed me, hissing, 'NO!  Stay!'
   'Are you...?'
   'No.  But, please, PLEASE!'
   Father, it took every bit of strength in me to withdraw, but I did.  I
held myself in one hand and continued to massage her clitoris.  My release
came in waves, matching hers.  On her belly, thighs, up her chest.  I shook
with a power I've never known, as my body gave her everything I never knew
that I had.
   I fell on top of her, hand still inside her woman, feeling my semen
heated between us.  I kissed her hard and softly, her lips, her mouth, her
face, her neck.  She kept putting her hands on my face, bringing me back to
her mouth.  I lost myself in her sweetness, and in the magnitude of our
release.
   Too soon, I had to stand, looking for something with which to clean us.
I found some clean flannel dust clothes I use to dust the books on my
shelves from time to time.  I knelt and wiped her clean of our mingled
remnants, kissing my way between her legs.  Father, I could not let her go
yet, and I told her so.  'Let me, Amy,' I said as I parted her outer lips
and began to suck on the full interior lips.  Her clitoris was sensitive
still, but I could not keep away.  I wanted to give her another release
before I let her back into a world that would be fundamentally changed when
she left my office.
   I sucked her full flesh into my mouth, and ran my teeth against the edge
of her inner labia.  Her hands grasped my head as I did so, holding me
hard. I repeated the move over and over, and inserted two fingers back
inside her still-throbbing woman.  Finally, I stopped playing with her lips
and I exposed her pearl, by now fully engorged and hungry.  I fastened my
lips solidly over her clitoris and sucked, then played my tongue fast
across the tip.  As I did so, Amy found my phallus, which to my utter
amazement was again tumescent.  The feeling of her small hand gripping me
and flying back and forth as my tongue set her on fire was enough to bring
us each again quickly to the brink.  This time, I sucked up every bit of
her wetness as her female emanation filled me to gulping.  She whispered,
'I want to taste you,' and I stood, knelt over her head and gave her the
last offering my spasming body brought forth.
   I reached my hands down and pulled her up, holding her.
   'We are beyond our hour, Amy, you must hurry.  I don't have to tell you
we are on very dangerous territory just now.  But, my God, beautiful
woman-child , thank you for this.  I don't know what more to say.  I know
that we will speak, but for now, you must leave.  I will send you an e-mail
and we will make some time to speak.  Very soon.  And, by all means, you
may call me here.  I would love to speak with you soon.'
   She smiled at me and quickly got dressed as did I.  She straightened my
tie and said, 'Thank you, Mr.  Wills.  It was -- this was -- I mean you are
-- I don't have words.  Just thank you.' She kissed my cheek, opened my
door and left.
   I sat at my desk, relieved to not have an appointment for half an hour.
The magnitude of what I'd done washed over me.  I managed to get through
the last two appointments, sent Amy an e-mail and made my way here,
Father."
   "Father?"
   There were shifting sounds in the confessional.  I had paid no attention
to anything other than telling my story.  I heard what sounded very much
like a zipper being let up or down, very slowly.
   "Ah, yes, my son, that is a ...  a very stirring story."
   I interrupted him and said, "Was that YOUR ZIPPER, Father?"
   I didn't need an answer.  I laughed.  By profaning himself during my
confession, the priest did me a huge favor.  I felt as though my hard shell
of own self-imposed morality cracked and sloughed away.  I stood up,
resolved to live my life very differently from that moment on, having no
clue what that meant, resolving to live my way there.
   I can't tell you what the moral to the story is, but I can tell you
this. I will continue to be a devoted husband and father.  I will even be a
better lover to my wife.  And, I can't wait until the next time I see Amy. 
  
Bless Me Father, For I Have Sinned