"Forgive me father for I have sinned."
"And what are your sins, child?"
Where do I begin? To be honest, each time I sit my fine ass in the confessional and spill the beans to Father d'Ambrosio, my own confession turns me on. I can only wonder what the good father thought or did afterward.
But let me back up a bit.
I was raised a good Catholic girl and I've confessed all my "sins" at the same church since I was a kid from the time I started confessing all the sexually-naughty things I had done with both boys and girls I knew up to the present when I fessed up to fucking three men on the day of my wedding. You read that right. Call me a slut, or a nymphomaniac or a fallen woman, I prefer to think of myself as a woman who loves easily and loves well. But, I'm getting ahead of myself again.
I married Jeff simply because I loved him. I still do. I mean, he is my husband, after all. Anyway, we'd gone to the same college and we were introduced to each other by my friends, Lauren and Lucky (just her nickname -- her real name, the one her parents gave her was Minerva) What parents name their daughter Minerva, anyway? Anyhow, we met at this big party on campus. I was 19 and he Jeff 20 but we were both juniors. I fell for him like a ton of bricks. Looking back, I have to say that he was my first real boyfriend; the first I loved, anyway.
He had a lot more experience than I did. My sexual experience at that time was limited to making out with boys and getting finger-fucked. Technically, I was a virgin when I met him; I'd never even given anyone a blow job. Once our relationship started to get serious, though, I knew I'd have to become a quick learner, so I did what any other red-blooded girl would do: I watched porn. Tons and tons of porn. I studied sex like I studied for my exams. I crammed. Interesting choice of a word there, "crammed," because that's what my fingers did tour or five times a day. My grades dropped but I knew that, by the time it came to fucking, Jeff was going to be a lucky man and I'd get my grades back up. I'd done it before and I knew I could do it again.
I studied everything I could lay my hands (and eyes) on that had to do with sex; fucking, sucking, oral, anal, bi and straight. My grades would pick up, I knew, but this was going to be a life time skill. Little by little I gained confidence. I began to learn what felt good to me and how to ask for it in no uncertain terms. Of course, the more I watched, the more I masturbated and the more I masturbated, the more I wanted the real thing. But I wasn't about to make John my practice run. What if it didn't work? What if I was really lousy at it?
I had to find someone I trusted who wouldn't take my overtures as anything romantic. I immediately thought of John, who was Lauren's boyfriend at the time, and who is now her husband. They had graduated a year ahead of me and got married soon after. So, he was cute, we got along, he had experience and Lauren had told me he was an animal in bed... he was perfect for my experiment. While he and Lauren weren't married at the time, they were "engaged to get engaged," whatever that means. To me John was still fair game and, one Saturday night when he'd had too much to drink, he called me because he'd had a fight with Lauren. I was living off-campus and I invited him over.
I loved the scent of him and it still drives me crazy. It had nothing to do with any cologne or aftershave, it was his animal pheromones I was hooked onto. So that night I lost my precious virginity to him. The sex was anything but romantic. We were two hungry animals mating as if our lives depended on it. To be perfectly blunt, I had bruises on my boobs, hips and ass and my poor pussy was hurting so badly that I needed to take two aspirin. But that didn't stop us from going ape shit crazy on each other again the next day.
John and I never really stopped being lovers and, even on my wedding day ... I'll get to that later. The following weekend, I let Jeff take my non-existent virginity the next weekend. It was sweet and romantic but I didn't cum. After fucking John all week, sex with Jeff was warm, comforting oatmeal. John was a red hot pepper. Right then and there I knew how it would be with us. I'd love Jeff and I'd crave John, wedding ring or not, Lauren or not. It was meant to be that way as wrong as it would seem to others if they knew about it.
And then there was Kevin. What can I say about Kevin? He was my close friend's fiancé and a friend of mine from my neighborhood. Before he met Louise, we were best friends but if we went out to the movies together, it was because neither of us had a date. We knew it wasn't a dating situation. That's not to say that we never made out or anything like that. We experimented with almost sex and it was fun but it was two friends passing the time being naughty. Once he met Louise and they started going out, we kind of grew apart but Louise and I got closer together and I won't say I never fooled around with her because I did. She was the best kisser I've ever known and I have to admit that, sometimes when I masturbate, it's the thought of kissing her that gets me off quickest. She has the softest lips!
The big day was right around the corner and needless to say, I was excited. True, I was not only fucking Jeff, but I was also regularly fucking John and Kevin and once in a while Louise and I would get together to play. It sounds complicated and it was, but I was managing and for once in my life I was feeling sexually satisfied. I mean, who wouldn't.
On the day before the wedding Jeff and I scheduled to have a couples session with Father d'Ambrosio about what would be expected of each of us. To us it was a big joke and one more hoop that society felt it had to put us through in order to have a good, Christian marriage. Unfortunately, Jeff's bachelor party was the previous night and he pleaded with me to go to the session without him. I was pissed. I mean, he knew we had this coming up, but being the goodnatured wife-to-be, I went without him.
Father was in his thirties and looked like a movie star. Lots of the women who attended church there did so only because he was so hot looking. There was never a shortage of women at church activities. I figured it could have been worse, so I shouldn't complain about having to spend a few hours talking about sex and marriage with such a hunk.
We were talking about a wife's responsibilities in the marriage regarding sex. I was being told that, regardless of what I thought about having sex, that it was a normal and expected part of marriage. Somehow, we got onto the topic of specific acts and what the Bible did and didn't approve of. I could feel as well as see Father's demeanor change as we began to discuss oral sex. His face became flushed and he was staring intently at my chest. I'm not a porn model by any stretch of the imagination but I've never had any complaints about my 34-c boobs, which I never tried very hard to hide.
