Kinky Confessions

Sara drew a ragged breath and slowly composed herself. “Sorry,” she said into the awkward silence. “I didn’t mean to go off like that. It’s just… I hate those people.”

“I can imagine.”

“No, you can’t. So fuck you!”

I knew she wasn’t angry at me, so I bore it in silence.

“Sorry,” she repeated after a moment. She sniffed and cleared her throat.

“Maybe I should call you back.”

“No! I mean… no. Take your time.”

“Okay, then hold on.” She set the phone down and blew her nose. She returned after nearly a minute. “Coffee. Should help,” she said. “Anyway, yeah, Catholic guilt. It fucks you up. It’s worse when you think that maybe you actually did something to deserve all that shit.”

“You didn’t.”

“You think I don’t know that, asshole?” She took a breath and tried to calm down. “Aw, fuck it. I don’t know why I’m yelling at you.”

“Sometimes it helps to vent. Like now. Besides, I know you aren’t angry at me.”

“I am for scaring me earlier.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled. “Sorry ’bout that.”

“It’s okay. Just don’t do it again. And don’t get annoyed at Christy because she won’t do things your way. She’s probably a lot more fucked-up in the head than you are.”

“I… hadn’t thought of that.”

“Well, you should’ve.”

“You’re right. Still—”

“Look, I know this isn’t what you want to hear,” Sara said, “but she’s sleeping with you, right? And you aren’t married. So she’s already disobeying the Church. Her parents, too. And she isn’t like me—she still believes this shit. Hell, she’s probably convinced herself that you’re married, at least in her head. And the birth control is her way to do it and still obey the Church. It might not seem like a big thing to you, but it’s important to her.”

I struggled to process what she’d just said. Oh, I understood it. I just didn’t like it. “Yeah, you’re right,” I said eventually, “that isn’t what I want to hear.”

“Too bad.”

“I know. Sex is a big deal for her, and sometimes I forget how much it goes against her upbringing.” Not to mention all the other things she does that aren’t on the list of Church-approved marital activities.

“Mmm hmm,” Sara said, faux-sweet. “Now, was there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

“Tempting, but… I think I’ve had enough fun for one day.” After a suitable pause I said, “So, how’re you? I know that sounds glib, but I really mean it.”

“I’m fucked-up in the head,” she laughed. “Worse now that you got me thinking about the past and shit I can’t control.”

“Sorry about that.”

“I know. It isn’t your fault. But I’m not really in the mood to talk anymore. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“What time is it? Jesus, it isn’t even seven thirty! Okay, I’m’a get dressed and take my camera out for a while. I need to be alone.”

“I understand.”

“Call me sometime this week. I’m working till Wednesday, but catch me any time after that.”

“Will do. And, Sara…?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you survived. The world’s a better place with you in it.”

“Thanks,” she said softly. “You too.”

Christy flew up the stairs and into the bedroom, where I was sitting on the bed with my sketchbook. I wasn’t actually drawing anything, though.

Instead, it was an excuse to tell myself I was doing something when I was really just brooding about what Sara had said.

“Hello, Mr. Wonderful,” Christy chirped. “It’s a beautiful day. Come see!” She threw open the curtains and bent to open the window.

I stayed right where I was and admired the view of her slim backside. She was wearing a knee-length floral-print dress, frilly white ankle socks, and pink low-top Chuck Taylors. Her legs were toned and tan, and I didn’t need much imagination to picture her without the dress. She struggled with the window, so I set my sketchbook aside and went to help.

“It sticks unless you do it just right.” I wiggled the sash until it opened.

Christy nibbled the tip of her thumb and gave me a suggestive look. “You can do the same to me if you’d like.” She tugged my hand. “Come away from the window.” She glanced back as she neared the closet door. “I was thinking about you all the way home.”

“Good thoughts, I hope.”

“Very good. Very naughty.” She tilted her face up for a kiss and then ran her fingers through my hair as our lips met.

I picked her up. She squeaked but didn’t stop kissing me, so I pinned her against the closet door. She automatically wrapped her legs around my waist.

We kissed with growing heat for a couple of minutes before I set her on her feet again.

“Take off your panties.”

“Yes, sir.”

I untied the drawstring on my shorts and kicked them off. I wasn’t wearing boxers, and my erection sprang up. Christy reached under her dress

and lowered pink cotton panties. She watched as I took off my shirt and tossed it aside as well. I picked her up again and she crossed her ankles behind me.

“So, you were thinking naughty thoughts on the way home? About what?”

“This and that,” she said coyly. “You know, me and my imagination.”

“Was I fucking you against the wall in your imagination?”