It's the last Saturday before Christmas at 4:50 and almost the end of reconciliation hour, and also very nearly the last night of a life I've idealistically thrown away twenty years ago. Most of the congregation has stopped coming to confession entirely. I've only had 2 people in the last 2 hours. I'm sick of listening to the same confessions by the same unrepentant sinners. They lie when they say they are truly sorry, and I grant them forgiveness because I have to pretend to believe them. No matter what I do with this life I've dedicated to someone I've never seen, nothing seems to matter to me. I feel cut off from everyone and sometimes I just want to reach out and hug someone without cause, anyone in the congregation, and not let them go.
Suddenly the partition door opens and it's him, my friend, Father Christian, just what I need. I'm at the end of my rope lately. I'm lonely. Sure I have friends but spending every night alone without a warm body to even hold is really starting to get to me. Some of the other priests I know take lovers but that's risky and I'm not very extroverted. Fr Christian is one of the strong ones, or at least in all the years that I have been his confessor he's never indicated otherwise to me.
If he weren't a priest I'd swear he was a succubus, as he's raped me in my dreams plenty of times. He has the body of Adonis, perfectly sculpted. Sometimes even just looking at the back of his shoulders makes me horny. It's been a challenge to hide my attraction from him. His cobalt blue eyes are what got me first, covered with heavy lids and long lashes that give the illusion of mascara. Then I noticed his high cheekbones and full-pouty lips. How anyone could resist him was beyond me. The moment he opened his mouth to speak my cock sprang fully erect, all 8 inches throbbing painfully below my Cossack.
I'd never masturbated before this muse came around; 15 years and never once in all that time did I resort to self-love. I devoted my life to this vocation, filling every moment with service or study, never letting myself have enough time to think about such distractions.
Then 5 years ago they introduced me to this angel of a man and I've been his confessor ever since. We quickly became friends but every time he's in the room I try to sit down and hide my erection under a table. When we hug I keep from pressing up against him. If I were stronger I would have asked him to find another confessor years ago, and told him that I couldn't be friends with him anymore, but his very presence in my life jump started my heart and my loins, and I found myself struggling against my desires, having to ignore random, blurry images as they popped into my head. I didn't dare allow myself to fantasize, to fully see his face and picture his gorgeous body uncovered in my mind; it was too painful.
If they were wiser, or if they knew about my weakness for gorgeous men they should have never introduced me to Christian. But then again there are so many of us, I doubt if they would have been able to find a completely straight priest, unmoved by his beauty and the years with no woman they could trust in their lives.
We are all lucky that this man is so strong himself. In all the years that we have been friends he had confided numerous attractions to both men and women and asked me to pray for him to remain strong. So I have been on my knees asking God for something I truly didn't want but ached to want for him. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned..." His submissive tone gets me every time. His voice is never stale and he always treats confession like the sacrament that it's supposed to be. I ball up my fists at my sides and fight to keep my face straight. "I...this is so hard..."
I'm perplexed by his words. Christian is always forthcoming with his confessions, but this time it's too much for him. I can't imagine what he could have done that he can't tell me about. "Please," he begs, so vulnerable, "you can't tell anyone, no matter what I tell you now."
"Christian, you know I can't tell anyone," I surprise myself with my edgy voice. "I wouldn't tell anyone even without this sanctity protecting you." I'm starting to get annoyed but it's not his fault that being around him is such a tease.
"How do you know that?" He's too cautious, something's wrong.
Because I love you, I think.
"Because I'm your friend."
"I slept with a woman," he says it quickly and low. "I'm so sorry," he whispers.
"Please don't tell them, there's nothing wrong with me, I just slipped. I'll never do it again, I'm sorry."
I have no idea what to say to this and there's a lengthy, uncomfortable silence between us. "Please..." he adds, "help me be strong Gabriel."
"No," I say without thinking, "I can't, " I hear myself say, immediately covering my mouth afterwards.
"What?" Christian asks.
"It will be alright," I move on and hope he forgets the slip, "come, let's talk in my quarters." We walk quickly in silence, to my apartment. As soon as he's inside and I close the door he falls against me. I try to get away in case I get hard again but he holds me close and sighs like an angel in my ear. He's very worried and I want to comfort and hurt him at the same time.
"Christian, look at me," I tell him, and he fights against the weight of his guilt to comply. His perfect blue eyes gloss over with tears. I've never wanted to kiss him so badly. "Nothing's changed between us. The Lord loves and forgives you."
I realize I'm still holding him when my hard on unmistakably presses into the crotch of his pants and immediately move away. It's too late; his eyes get wide. I try to ignore it and hope he will too. My eyes immediately go to that huge bulge in his crotch and his go to mine. We look up, breathing heavy, starring at each other. He almost looks like he wants me as bad as I want him. I see something so tender in his eyes that I almost delude myself into thinking it's the same love I feel for him.
You could cut the sexual tension with a knife. I never knew he wanted me so badly before. I can tell he feels so vulnerable and I try to let him know with my eyes he can trust me. I'm so close to that gorgeous cock but I'm not even going to look down at it yet. Now I know I can take the chance and say what I've wanted to say to him for so long. "Do you have any idea how hard it is when you're around? You have no idea how good you are," I tell him, "how beautiful. You make me want to..." I shut myself up, realizing my voice is getting louder. I don't even know how to finish that sentence.
Christian's searching my eyes; wanting to say something, but I don't give him the opportunity. Instead I take him in my arms, much closer than we've ever been before. I run my fingers though his hair without thinking. "I love you," I say it automatically, naturally, before I can catch myself.
"What?"
"Oh I'm sorry, Christian. I didn't mean to say that."
"You love me," he asks, "really?"
"Yes," I say, "I love you. I'm sorry."
"No," he whispers, "I love you too, Gabriel." Tenderly his lips open mine, his tongue teases mine, slowly; shallow then deeper our lips lock and tongues intertwine, and it's the most tender, beautiful moment of my life.
