Under Mr Nolan's bed

The heat of my blush was nothing compared to the fire between my legs. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. “And I told him I wanted him. I wanted to feel him inside of me.”

“Did he… put it inside of you?”

“Yes.” I spread my legs wider as I touched myself. My nipples were hard under my blouse and I used my other hand to rub one through the material. “He was very gentle… it hurt at first… but then…. Oh, Father, it started to feel soooo good…”

“Did it?”

“Yes,” I breathed, closing my eyes and making fast circles around my clit.

“He was so big and hard inside of me, and he started moving in and out of me as I touched myself… I couldn’t help it, I started moving under him, too… it felt so good-he made my little pussy feel so good with that big cock, the way he fucked me harder and harder…”

I heard Father Michael’s gasp and that rhythmic sound was growing faster. “Oh Jesus… help us…”

“Yesss,” I whispered, feeling the memory of my first time deep in my pussy, and I knew I was going to come-right there in the confessional. “He fucked me so hard, Father, it was so wrong and so right and it felt so fucking good, we just couldn’t stop…”

I moaned, my pussy beginning to contract. “We both came together, at the same time, just…like… that…”

I bit my lip to keep from crying out as I started to come, my orgasm coming in waves of pure pleasure in the darkness. Behind the screen, Father Michael grunted and groaned, whispering the words, “Oh god, oh god” over and over.

Panting, ashamed and afraid now, I whispered, “Father?”

“Yes, my child.” He swallowed his words and cleared his throat. “Is that all?”

I nodded, closing my eyes and lifting my sticky fingers to my mouth and tasting myself. “Yes.”

“Let’s pray together.”

We did-and he gave me fifty Hail Mary’s and thirty Our Father’s-and that, as Erica always said, was that.

Chapter Seven

I was okay as long as I could pretend it was just fun, or even fantasize that I was helping plan a romantic evening for us, but the truth kept hitting me, and it hurt. I was sitting in the Nolan’s kitchen dipping strawberries in chocolate with Erica and watching the only man I had ever slept with cook dinner for some other woman. My jaw clenched again at the thought, but I licked some stray chocolate off my fingers as Mr. Nolan drained the pasta in the sink, glancing over his shoulder at us.

“Don’t eat the chocolate,” he warned, seeing Erica licking her fingers, too.

She made a face, dipping her finger into the gooey stuff when he wasn’t looking and holding it out to me. I grinned, sucking her finger. The sweetness helped drown the bitter taste in my mouth and the way I was feeling about tonight.

“Now, you girls are going to be quiet as a church mouse, right?” he asked for the hundredth time that night.

“Yes, Dad.” Erica sighed, taking another strawberry out of the bowl and dipping it. “You won’t even hear our whiskers twitching.”

“You promise?” He looked past her to me, raising one of his dark eyebrows.

“Not a squeak.” I held up two fingers. “Girl Scouts honor.”

“That’s the Boy Scouts’ salute, brainiac.” Erica snorted, putting the strawberry down onto the waxed paper. “And we never did Girl Scouts.”

“We didn’t?” I ran my finger around the edge of the chocolate bowl while Mr. Nolan was fluffing the salad. “Why do I remember selling cookies?”

“Brownies.” Erica dipped the last strawberry and I looked longingly from it to Mr. Nolan.

“We sold brownies? Where was I?”

Erica dipped her finger into the chocolate bowl again. “No, we were in Brownies for a year, remember?”

I shook my head. “All I remember is Thin Mints and Tagalongs. Yum!” Mr. Nolan, cutting tomatoes, mumbled, “I was never a Scout, but I ate a Brownie, once.”

Erica and I both looked at each other, wide-eyed, and then cracked up.

“Dad!”

Mr. Nolan grinned, looking sheepish. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“I wonder if Jennifer was a Brownie,” Erica teased, offering the chocolate bowl to me for a taste before she took it to the sink.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Mr. shook his head, still smiling. “Thank you both for your help, but it’s time for you to scurry upstairs.” My stomach lurched and I sucked hard at my finger, hoping to find some more sweetness. I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening anymore. He was hurrying us off so he could have a date!

“Come on, Minnie.” Erica reached for my hand. “Let’s go make like mice.”

“I don’t even like cheese.” I pouted, taking her hand and looking back at Mr. Nolan as she pulled me out of the kitchen. He was standing at the sink, his arms folded, his eyes veiled. I wished I could tell what he was thinking, feeling, if it was anything close to the turmoil churning in my stomach.

Erica shut the door to her room behind us and I flopped onto her bed on my back with a sigh, putting my feet up against the wall. “Well, this sucks.”

“You can say that again.” She sat beside me.

I sighed again. “Do you think he really likes her?”