These Are My Confessions

The following is a fantasy. Any resemblance to actual people or events is a coincidence.

I strode up to the non-descript door and punched in the key code. As soon as the door opened, music boomed out and I saw the smiling face of my friend Eva sitting behind a folding table.

"Xavier! You made it! Love the suit - are you an angel tonight? Or perhaps the devil...?"

It was a legitimate question; all 6'4" of me was dressed in white - my suit, my belt, my hat, my shoes. The only things not white were my brown hair and the freckles that dotted my Scots-Irish skin. I'd just come from a wedding to this "Gods and Goddesses"-themed fundraiser for my Burning Man camp, and picked an outfit that could work in both environments.

"Only time will tell, Eva." I said with a wink. "Did Rashelle get the Confessional set up okay?"

"It looks fantastic, everyone's been talking about it. Go see for yourself!"

I gave her a fist bump as I swept past her and up the stairs. The music got louder as I reached the second floor, and approached a large sliding metal door, like an old industrial service elevator. The venue had been billed as a speakeasy, though in truth it was just a friend's loft. The decor was suitably stylish though, and I took a moment to breathe in satisfaction, and then slid the doors up.

The music immediately increased three fold, and I saw dozens of partygoers waiting at the bar, or milling by the dancefloor. Lasers and rotating lights cut through the darkness, illuminating the thin smoke from the fog machine. Every single person was decked out in godly costumes, and the sensory overload rooted me to the spot. There was Thor, idly swinging his hammer while chatting up a Medusa with paper snakes coiling down from her head to her gray silk halter top. Freja, the swedish goddess of love, was dancing behind a seated Dionysus in his toga. Her blond braids were draping over his shoulders and getting entwined with the skeins of grape vine that wrapped his shoulders. My friend Ronnie was dressed as the panther god Bast - although apparently that meant blue-black glitter around his eyes, a black silk loin cloth, and little else. The little blond twink (dressed as... something equally clothes-averse) who was running his hands across Bast's dark oiled abs did not seem to have a problem with Ronnie's costume choices.

My hips immediately started moving and I danced into the room, barely breaking stride as I hugged friends and shouted back hellos to people who'd just seen me enter. I had a goal, and I could see it standing against the far wall. As I slid through the crowd I saw the line that had gathered outside my creation, and a smile grew on my face. Finally I reached the Confessional.

The Pro/Con-fessional had been my contribution as my group figured out what we would bring to the Playa to entertain and engage visitors to our camp. Our sixty members were divided into six groups, and each one was given the theme of one of the six Greek Classical forms of love. Other groups had themes like familial love, love of all mankind, or erotic love. Our team's theme was Self Love. Since a masturbation booth seemed somewhat less than engaging, we met up to brainstorm. My idea won out - we would construct a Pro/Confessional Booth, where instead of

Con

fessing your

sins

, you

Pro

fess your

wins

. Modern society asks us to be humble and self-deprecating in person, and limits all our self-appreciation to the digital world - photogenic, posed posts on social media without any direct engagement or authenticity. This booth would allow people to anonymously profess to a

real

person all the things they are proud of about themselves.

Over the last week, Rachelle and I had constructed the Confessional on my porch, and it looked glorious. Gold-painted PVC pipe formed the structure of two adjacent 3'x3' booths, stretching from floor to ceiling. The walls were made of red velvet, velcro'd to the support structure for easy disassembly. The wall that the two booths shared had a window of black crosshatched lace, mimicking a confessional window. The "priest" side had a chair, and on the confessor's side was a kneeling stool topped with a velvet pillow.

I saw Rashelle come out of the priest's side, and caught her eye. She ran over and wrapped her arms around me in a wild hug.

"Xavier! It's gone *soooo* well! People are loving it and you've got to take a spin as priest! There's a line, so make sure to cap them off after five minutes or so." She took off her costume-store miter and stood on her tippy toes to place it on my head. I gave her a quick hug back and edged between the curtains on the priest side of the adjoined booths.

I sat on the chair in the darkness, and waited. Soon enough the curtains parted on the adjacent booth, and a new supplicant kneeled on the stool.

"Tell me my child, how long has it been since you professed your wins?"

"Too long, Father."

"Then tell me. Tell me what makes you beautiful, what you are proud of, what light shines from you to the world..."

The next hour passed in a blur as confessors cycled through on the opposite side of the lace window. I found I had a real talent for juicing people up. Some were hesitant and unsure of themselves, but I quickly talked them into revealing the bright moments and achievements that they treasured about themselves. I loved to work them into a frenzy at the end, using call and response techniques.

"And I led our team through the downsizing and kept management from reducing our headcount."

"Did you protect them?"

"Yes, I did."

"Did you carry them?"

"Yes!"

"I can't hear you, did you carry them?!"

"YES! I carried them on my *back*!"

"Did you support them?"

"Yes!"

"Like you supported your sister after the baby?!"

"Yes, and I'd do it again, for anyone I love!"

"Do you love them?"

"Yes!"

"Do you love YOU?!"

"YESSS!!!"

"Good. As your penance, say five hell yeahs and hug four strangers. Go with Goddess."

My confessor left and Rashelle poked her head in through the curtains.

"Time to wrap up so we can join the party, Xavier. Just one more. I'll turn the sign to 'Closed' and see you at the bar."

I centered myself and then heard the curtains lift as the last confessor entered. Through the lace window, in the dim light, I could barely make out the person who'd just entered, but I could see the silhouette of her thin frame, and glints of light off of her long, silky black hair. She kneeled on the stool and whispered sweetly.

"Bless me Father, for I have wins."

My breath caught in my throat, as I recognized the voice. I had invited Lana to the party, but didn't know she'd arrived yet, as I'd been taking confessions for the last hour. I met Lana at an intentional conversation event, and was immediately attracted to her. She was Chinese American, from SoCal, and had a style that seemed both carefully put together yet effortless. Like she walked out of the office after a long day but could seamlessly transition to the catwalk.

She stood about a foot shorter than me, but her presence seemed bigger than that. Perhaps it was the constant glint in her eye, or the saucy smile playing around her face. Like she was listening to your thoughts, and intrigued by how quickly they'd gone dirty. We'd flirted, and chatted online, and I had quietly hoped she might come tonight.

I tried to keep my cool, and managed to stammer out "Tell me child, what are you proud of about yourself?"

She proceeded to list some of the standard items I'd heard that night. Her success in her job, and how she'd stood by friends when they needed help. But they seemed perfunctory, and I could sense her hesitancy as she trailed off...

"What is it my child, is there anything else...?"

"Well, I'm not sure if I should say. All those other things are wins that people close to me could guess. Not something to share in this special anonymous environment. Things I wouldn't tell anyone normally."

"Go on my child, you have nothing to fear from being honest here. I'll keep it in the strictest confidence."

"Well... then I want to say... I'm proud of how well I can suck a long, hard cock."

My breath caught again, and I could feel my face begin to flush in the darkness. Wrestling control of myself, I managed to keep my voice level.

"Oh? That is certainly something to be proud of. Have you always been so talented?"

"Yes, pretty much. My friends all act like it's something to endure, to get their men hard enough for sex, but since my first boyfriend, I was always happy to be on my knees, running my slick lips over a hard, warm dick. Most cocks I can take all the way down my throat, so my nose is buried in their pubic hair. But even if I can't, I'll shove it until I can't take anymore and my eyes start to water, and then pull away to spit a warm jet of spit onto it, and then lick it clean like an popsicle."

All the moisture seemed to have drained from my my mouth and my face was burning hot. I felt my cock start to swell in my white pants. I managed to keep my voice as level as possible.

"That... that sounds quite a gift, dear. Go on."

"Thank you, Father. I love locking eyes with my man as I feel his whole cock in my throat, feel it pulse with the beat of his heart. I don't need to use my hands, so sometimes I'll put them behind my back as I bob forward on his dick, or stick them between my legs to play with myself. Knowing how completely I own him at that moment, how I'm offering him heaven, but could turn it to hell by biting down, gets me incredibly horny. I love when he'll grab my hair to pull my head down on him, wrapping his fingers in my locks and twisting them tight. And whether it's then, or after I've fucked him silly, I love kneeling in front of him, watching him squirm in ecstasy as I stroke his cock in front of my face, until he unloads that hot come all over me."

I could barely breathe, and my head was swimming. My cock was straining beneath my pants, as I absentmindedly ran my hand over the fabric. I couldn't imagine how she'd decided to make this confession tonight, but knew I had to make the most of this.

"Thank sounds... quite impressive. You should be very proud to be talented. Is that all?"

"Is that all?" She said with a girlish laugh. "Oh no Father, that's just the start. But you're right, I should keep it moving. So... let's see. I'm... I'm really proud of how wet my pussy gets. My exes have tried to use lube, but they quickly realize it's not necessary. When I really like someone, my body just takes over and responds. Soon my legs and belly have gotten warm, and I can feel my thighs start to tingle, and then get wet. And before you know it, I'm absolutely slick - dripping and ready for him."

I could barely speak. The blood had drained from my head, and simple sentences seemed impossible to construct. I managed to squeak out "oh, is that so?", my voice cracking a little at the end.

"What, Father, you don't believe me? This is a secret confession. Why would I lie? Look, I'll prove it to you."

And I heard her begin to pull at the side of the divider, and detach the Velcro that held it to the painted support pole. The bottom three feet separated from the right side wall, and I saw her small, manicured hand pop through, palm up like she was waiting for a Eucharist cracker.

"Give me your hand, Father."

I lightly pressed the back of my hot hand hand against her palm, and she pulled it forcefully back through the wall, pulling me forward and forcing my face against the black lace that divided us. I felt her hand pulling mine lower and further towards her, the side of my hand brushing her inner thigh, and sliding upwards. On my forearm I could feel the hem of her short dress, and then... my hand was warm, and wet, and pressed tightly to her. Palm up, she'd placed my hand directly on her pussy, and it took me a moment to realize that there were no panties in my way. She rubbed my hand up and down between her legs, pushing herself into my hand with a slow rhythm. Her warm, slick juices seemed to coat my hand instantly, and... my God, she had not been lying. It felt like she was pouring a bowl of warm coconut oil into my palm. I was dimly aware that my mouth had dropped open, and my mouth was wet with saliva again. She was so wet that I had just been sliding my palm over her slick crotch, not even feeling for her opening. But I shook my head to try and bring my wits back, and felt more carefully, swirling my fingers along the border between her thigh and her pelvis, and then drawing them together where there must be...

There! My first two fingers found her slit, and then slipped in almost instantly. It was like her lips were hungrily sucking them in, and felt her soft pussy wrapped around my two fingers as she shifted her weight forward to take me in. I began slowly stroking her, taking my time as I drew out, drawing little circle on her front wall, and then driving back in until my fingers were in to their hilt. I heard her breath draw in and I looked up from where I'd been staring at my arm as it disappear behind the velvet curtain, and found myself face to face with her through the lace window. This close, I could see her face more clearly, and watched as her eyes widened and mouth pursed, her head tilting towards the ceiling, as I pushed my hand forward again. She licked her lips hungrily and then whispered out through shivering breaths.

"So Xavier? Did I give good confession? Was I telling the truth?"

"Yes, you've been very honest, and you have so much to be proud of..." I managed to respond in a warm, level tone of voice. My adrenaline was pounding in my ears, but a clean cool calm was spreading in my mind. It was like hypnosis. I felt like I could simultaneously feel every part of my body perfectly, move my fingers rhymically inside her, and stare deep in her gradually widening eyes. I could hear the DJ yelling to the audience as he transitioned to the next track, and roar of the crowd in response as they stomped the dancefloor on just the other side of that thin cloth wall. I could tell that no one was paying attention to the booth, but simultaneously realized I wouldn't care if they were. I felt my breath steaming from my nostrils onto my upper lip, and the bead of sweat dripping down my back, and my rock hard cock rubbing urgently against my pants, like it was nosing around for an exit. Without consciously willing it, my free hand pulled a gold Magnum condom packet from my jacket's breast pocket, ripped the top clean off with my teeth, and returned it. Even my vision seemed sharper, and I could see every microexpression on her face as she rocked me into her.

"So, shouldn't I have some kind of penance?" She whispered breathily at me, returning her eyes to mine.

"I think you need to share your gifts with those who'll appreciate them." I responded looking meaningfully into her eyes as I circled her g spot with my fingers and pulled her closer to me, so our bodies were pressing through the velvet wall.

She gave another gasp, her eyes glazing slightly, then returned my gaze, and through a coquettish smile said "Good idea. Do you know anyone?"

Her words were like an electric shock, and suddenly my paralysis was broken. I used my free hand to quickly undo enough of the Velcro attachments to open a wide space in the wall, and meet her face to face. She launched herself upwards to me in my chair, straddling my right leg while grinding down on the hand still inside of her. Our lips crashed together and I felt weightless, like I was tumbling through space. With my other arm wrapped around her waist and pulling her tight to me, the red velvet walls seeming to spin around us. Her short red dress, covered with a print of feathers (I later learned see was dressed as the Phoenix, who rises from the ashes) was hiked up around her hips, and I could feel her thighs gripping tight around my quad. Our tongues swirled together passionately and I heard her give a low moan as her left hand dropped to the front of my pants, and began urgently rubbing my hard cock with a jerking, almost uncontrolled motion.

My left hand reached up to the back of her head, pulling her head into mine, and my hands dove deep into her long, silky tresses. When my hand was deep into her hair, my palm against the back of her skull, with my fingers splayed out and cupping her whole head, I drew my fingers into a fist, pulling the hair on the side of her head tight. I heard her give another low moan into my mouth, and shudder against me.

As she tightened into me, I pulled my right hand from between her legs and wrapped my arm around her little waist, and in a single clean motion stood straight up, carrying her up into the air with me, her legs automatically wrapping around my hips and a muffled "whoop!" escaping her lips.. Our mouths still pressed tightly together, I turned smartly on my heel, till I was facing the chair I'd just stood up from. With a smooth squatting motion I lowered her ass to rest on the chair. Sometimes being a big guy has its perks, and I suddenly realized everyone was right about "never skip leg day". I pulled back from her, my hand grasping her chin and jaw, and looked into her eyes with a calm, smoldering smile. She looked dazed, and almost confused, like she'd been teleported from where she landed when first crossing to my booth.

Before she recover, I dropped my knees all the way to the floor, dove with my head, and buried it between her legs. My hand was still reaching up to hold her jaw firmly, my pinkie pressing down on her throat slightly. Not to choke her, just to hold her firmly. I felt for her body language carefully, and when her hand encouragingly rubbed my hand on her neck, I could tell she was enjoying my command of the moment. Meanwhile my tongue lapped hungrily as her hot, wet lips, running up and down, making a circle at the top around her clit, followed by an identical sweep of my lower lip. I drank her in, smelling the sweet pungent musk drifting up from her. Her crotch was warm against my lips, and I was sure that my face felt the same way against her inner thighs as they locked around my ears. My tongue rolled urgently over her, and her hands gripped my head, running her fingers through my hair and pulling me deeper in. I started to bring my hand back up to enter her. But as she felt the tips of my fingers, she started scratching my head, and pulling me up, hissing in a low voice, "No! Now, I need you now. Now!"

I raised myself up onto my knees, crouched between her open legs, and she began pawing and fumbling at my belt, her dexterity lost in the heat of the moment. I helpfully popped my belt open, as well as the button on my pants, and she dragging the two sides apart, pulling open the zipper. She moved more smoothly now, darting her hands under the elastic of my boxer briefs (also white), her hand wrapping around my hard cock with the surety of a swooping eagle's talon clamping down on a salmon just below the surface of the water. She breathed suddenly out, like she was relaxing a tension that had wound tight within her, and, locking eyes with me, pulled out my stiff member. Her hand began an unconscious motion, gripping and sliding up and down its 7" length. I felt like melting into the floor, and knew I would do anything she'd ask of me. I saw her eyes start to clear and a wicked smile grow on her face.

"That's what I hoped for, Father. You want me to share my talents, and you have such blessings to share with me as well. Will you give me my penance?"

I smiled back at her and grabbed her face, pulling it into mine for a long, deep kiss. Meanwhile, her hand never stopped moving, only tilting slightly to the side so our bodies could press together tighter. The moment was timeless. It probably lasted only a few seconds, but could well have been hours for all I knew. I pulled away, and she pouted slightly. Until she saw that my hand had retrieved the already-opened condom from my jacket pocket, at which point her eyes lit up like a contestant on an HGTV show who suddenly has their renovated house revealed. I gave her quick peck on the lips, and then began rolling the condom on, while she loosened my tie and undid my shirt button. I was still fully dressed in my suit, but had neither the time nor inclination to stop to undress.