Forgive Me Father 4

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It is many years since my last confession."

The priest settled back in his seat to listen to the voice coming to him through the grill of the confessional. It was not a voice he recognised, so it was not one of his usual congregation, but then at least it was not John Maguire confessing to impure thoughts about the Widow Barnes again, nor indeed was it the widow herself confessing to sins she only wished she had committed. Why, he wondered, would a seemingly respectable middle aged woman confess to sins of the flesh when the last time a man had entered her house was to fix the downstairs toilet, and that was the best part of a year ago. Was it loneliness? Was it the thought of life passing and an aging body being wasted while it was still usable? The priest sighed to himself, wondering why things could not be straightforward. Then, realising his attention had wandered and that the voice from the confessional had started again, he dragged himself back to the task in hand.

"I confess before God" The voice was saying. "That I have become a voyeur and more, much more, getting sexual gratification from spying on the intimate and private moments of others. It is the cause of my great shame, but while asking God's forgiveness I would like first to tell you how it happened, so that I might also gain God's understanding and yours."

The priest sighed quietly to himself once more. This, he could tell, was going to be one of those long and involved confessions by which the sinner hoped to mitigate his sins. Why couldn't people be strong enough to take responsibility for their misdeeds? It would probably all come down to having got an erection from catching a glimpse of his neighbour sunbathing nude.

"Go ahead, my son. God is listening."

"It was accidental really; I used to enjoy taking an evening stroll in the hillside cemetery, just to wander among the gravestones alone with my thoughts and the birdsong. It's a big old cemetery, no longer used and much of it is overgrown, dotted with trees and with shrubbery running riot in the most forsaken corners. Almost all the graves are now untended and the headstones seem to rise from a sea of grasses. I know it sounds horribly derelict, but somehow the very neglect and wildness has given the place a lonely beauty and an air of solitude and peace that a tidy and closely mown cemetery could never have. That was why I walked there; I just enjoyed the peace and quiet, feeling as if I was in the presence of God.

I was walking there one warm summers evening, just about as the sunlight was turning golden, at peace with the world and myself. The only sounds were the birds, the insects, and my feet crunching softly on the weedy gravel. Then, as I rounded a corner I saw that I wasn't alone. A young couple lay together in the grass, cuddling and kissing in the way that only young love can do.

At first I thought that their embrace was totally innocent, but then as I got closer I realised that his hand was inside her skirt and he was playing with her. Now, at that time I had no particular inclination to watch them, and in fact I deliberately scuffed my feet on the gravel path to make them aware of my presence. But they were so involved with each other that it took some moments for them to realise that someone was there, at which point he jerked his hand from under her skirt and began kissing her harmlessly on the neck. I tactfully pretended not to have noticed his hand's hasty retreat and wandered on down the path, totally ignoring them."

Ok, thought the priest, so not a neighbour then, but hardly serious.

The voice went on. "I felt a little guilty at having disturbed them, but otherwise I expected that to be that. I expected to walk past and leave them to it without another thought, letting them do what they wanted to do as I ambled on my way. But then, as I walked by I noticed that the girl's face was flushed, her eyes were closed, her breathing was ragged and her nipples stood out like bullets, even showing through her bra and blouse. She was so completely turned on, so utterly ready that had I been a few minutes later I'm sure I would have caught them in mid fuck, so to speak. That realisation caused a sudden stirring inside my trousers, and my cock uncoiled like a snake and pushed itself against my zip. I suddenly felt as horny as she obviously did and I cursed my timing.

But even so, I still pretended I'd not seen anything and sauntered on past them without even acknowledging their presence. It was only when I got another fifty yards or so a long the path that I gave in to the urge to look back and see what they were doing, and then I saw him pulling her to her feet with the obvious intention of taking her somewhere quieter. I could guess why and somehow that got to me. I still didn't have the intention of actively spying on them, and in fact I would have gone on my way and forgotten about them, but the simple fact that he was intent on taking her somewhere more private got me going even more. Not only that, but I had a good idea where he was taking her.

In the oldest part of the cemetery, the bit that had once been the graveyard of that long gone village church, stand a couple conifers close by the wall with an ancient yew tree just in front of them. It is said that the yew is at least a thousand years old and had been used to make bows for the army fighting the French at Agincourt, though I don't know if that's true. What is for sure is the size of it. It's a massive specimen with a trunk at least thirty foot around and bearing a huge spread of branches that reached down and almost touched the ground. Those branches formed a kind of skirt in front of the two conifers, leaving an open area beneath them around the trunks, an area well hidden from prying eyes. I was sure that was where they were going.

I stood on the path for a few minutes, torn between the desire to see if my hunch was correct and my natural inclination to respect their privacy, but then curiosity and the bulge in my trousers won and I set off in pursuit. I took a circuitous route because I didn't want to be seen to follow them, so by the time I reached the screen of yew branches they should have already been there for a few minutes and hopefully settled down to whatever they wanted to do.

That's the way it panned out; for as I cautiously peered between the leaves, subconsciously holding my breath in case they heard me, I saw that they were busy undressing each other under what they supposed to be the privacy of the trees. She was already down to her bra and the tiniest of thongs and as I arrived she pulled his sweat shirt over his head to leave him in just his boxers. There could be no doubt about it, they were going to do it and my heart was hammering with illicit excitement as I stood watching. The thrill of knowing that they had no idea I was there gave me goose bumps, and the thought that I could share their most intimate moments without their knowledge or consent was so empowering that I felt awesome. I never knew that spying could be so satisfying. That was the moment I became a voyeur, when I suddenly knew I was getting the best thrill of my life just from surreptitiously spying on that couple as they prepared to have sex.

He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting her very full breasts swing free before he bent and gently kissed each nipple. She moaned very softly, but in the stillness of the evening I could hear her quite plainly over the hum of the insects. I moved deeper into the fringe of branches, partly to see better and partly to conceal myself from anyone else who might stroll along the path behind me. She was definitely a well built girl, heavy breasts topped a full body and a well rounded bottom, all held up by shapely but sturdy legs. She was a little bit big for my taste, but very womanly and surprisingly feminine. For a few moments I envied her partner, but then I realised that I didn't need to touch, only to look.

As he straightened from kissing her breasts the girl hooked her fingers into the waistband of his shorts, then, as I watched, she dropped to her knees, taking his shorts down with her. His cock sprang free, bobbing up and down, rigid and shiny, just waiting to fuck. He was a very well endowed young man, though I wouldn't like to hesitate a guess at the measurement, it surely looked plenty big enough from where I stood, and I couldn't suppress a small jolt of envy. She was going to get herself well serviced, without a doubt.

He stepped from his shorts and stood naked over her while she leaned sideways to drop them onto the pile of his clothing and then turned back to him. It was obvious what she would do next, and neither he nor I were disappointed. Still on her knees, she leaned forward and engulfed the head of his cock in her generous mouth.

That girl had given head before, you could tell. She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and stroked him while her head bobbed up and down his shaft, deliberately laying down as much saliva as possible. It was very erotic, surreptitiously watching them like that, and very soon I silently pulled my zip down and set my cock free, seeing it bounce in just the way the young man's had. Then, as she sucked his cock and her head went up and down on his shaft, my hand synchronised with her movements as I quietly wanked. It made it as if I had become a part of their activities.

She sucked him for several minutes, but as soon as he began to show signs of being close to cumming she pulled away, dragged aside her thong and knelt for him to take her doggy style. He needed no more invitation and within seconds they were at it like a pair of animals, groaning and gasping as their act got them nearer and nearer to cumming.

The three of us came together. She contorted her face, pushed back against his cock and let out a cry of sheer pleasure at just the moment when he pushed himself hard into her to release his load and at the same time as my spunk spattered against the leaves and grasses that surrounded me.

As his cum spurted into her she was groaning 'yes' with every thrust of his cock and he was grunting loudly each time. Meanwhile I had to stifle any sounds that I might want to make in order to keep my presence secret. It was easy for them with their unbridled reactions, but not so easy for me, because I had to stay in control even as I came. My climax was easily as intense as theirs and I had to hold onto the hanging branches of the yew for quite a while before my jelly legs would support me and I could stumble away without being seen.

Father, I know that spying on this couple was wrong, but it gave me such a thrill that I couldn't help wanting to do it again, even though I felt so guilty about it."

"My son, confessing your guilt and being truly repentant are the gateways to God's forgiveness."

"Father, I have so much more to confess, and I am truly sorry for my sins, but I fear I may be beyond God's reach."

So it was going to be a very long confession. Just get on with it, and perhaps in less detail please. The priest tried to keep his true thoughts from his voice.

"No sinner who truly repents is beyond God's mercy."

"Yes, Father. Thank you."

There was silence for a few moments.

"Father, after seeing that young couple I found that I had a need to see other people having sex, and that I couldn't function for my wife without watching that couple in my minds eye. But soon that was not enough and I felt the need to find other couples to watch.

"My son, resisting earthly temptation is a subject in which I am particularly well versed by reason of my vocation, and I know how difficult it can be. But it is God's way of testing us, and we need to be strong. Please continue."

"I wasn't that strong, Father, I couldn't resist and three evenings a week, when my wife was out at her art class, I would spend hours just walking about that graveyard, part of me still enjoying the place for its stillness and beauty, but a larger part just looking and hoping to find more young people indulging in each other. I never saw that first couple again, Father, but several times I was fortunate enough to creep up and watch others having sex there. I won't bore you and God, who knows anyway, with all the details, except to say that I usually managed to masturbate as I watched, and get quite a buzz from my secret vice. It was always my aim, because of that first occasion, to cum just as those I was spying on did, and I found to my surprise that I could usually time it quite well.

But one time is more important than the others and I must beg your patience with my telling of it."

"Continue, my son. God has all the patience in the world." Even if I have not, the priest wanted to add.

"Thank you Father, it is very important. One evening as I was wandering around the graveyard in the hope of finding someone to watch, I heard noises coming from behind a large clump of bushes and old rhododendrons. I was sure that it was the noises of sex that I was hearing and I crept up to take a look, with my cock already rising in anticipation.

As I got closer it was unmistakeably sex I could hear, a woman's voice was making those old familiar moans and groans that only happen when she's nearly at her climax. I feared that I was going to be too late because she was reaching a crescendo, but I daren't hurry and case they heard me coming. In the event I wasn't quite quick enough and by the time I got into the bushes it had all gone quiet, and so I just peered carefully through the foliage in the hope of catching them still undressed. That way at least my imagination would have something to work with.

In that at least I was successful, and to my delight I realised that they weren't altogether finished yet. They were resting naked, the man leaning away from me and over his partner, who was flat among the leaves, so that I could see his back, but very little of her. He had clearly just rolled away and his back was still heaving as he got his breath back from making love to her and I could see a sheen of sweat on his skin. It must have been a good one and I cursed that I'd missed the show, hoping that there might be a second time.

I couldn't see very well from where I was because of the curtain of leaves, and I could see another position a little bit to one side that would afford me a good view. But I daren't risk moving while they rested quietly, because the slightest rustle of leaves or breaking of a twig might give the game away, and so I stayed where I was, peering through the curtain of greenery and waiting to see what would happen.

"Father, I know that I am taking up much more of your time than I should, and I am grateful. I waited until last, so I am holding no one up except you Father. Please hear me out. I need to tell God through you, so that he might know that I'm not as bad a person as it might seem."

"God can see into your heart, my son, fear not. And you may take all the time you need. Your eternal soul is far more important than a few earthly minutes."

At least, thought the priest, this is an interesting confession, better than many I get to hear. He adjusted his cassock to hide a tell tale bulge.

"Thank you Father. Well, Father, after a few minutes I heard the woman giggle and give a sexy little moan as the man raised his upper leg, like scissors opening, you know? Then I saw a hand appear between his legs and cup his balls, playing with them and rolling them around. I was envious Father, I wished my wife was more active like that, instead of just passively allowing me my pleasures. But it was now obvious that they had rested and were about to start again.

Soon the woman let go and the man began to shuffle around, so I took the chance and moved to the spot I had marked out just before. It took me a minute or so to get there and when I had settled into place and looked again I had a lovely clear view. The woman had moved and was on her hands and knees, half facing me, but with her arms folded on the ground and her head resting on them, but facing away from me. I must admit that this was a bit of a setback, because a lot of my pleasure comes from seeing a woman's face as she cums, watching the glorious agony that flits across her features. Her bottom was raised high in the air, and the man had moved around behind her to take her doggy style.

He reached forward and, as I watched, he put his hands on her cheeks and pulled them apart, looking right into her crack. Then he wet the fingers of one hand with his tongue and it looked like he was rubbing his spit into her anus, and I suddenly realised what they intended to do. I have often wondered about anal sex, but my wife won't let me try it, and here I was about to see a couple doing it.

He wet the end of his cock with some more spit and then shuffled into place, while I pulled my zip down ready to share in their fun. When he leaned forward and pressed himself against her entrance it seemed like ages before anything happened and I was watching with bayed breath, thinking that he might not manage it, but then it seemed like her sphincter suddenly let him in and she jerked, making a sound that was half pain and half pleasure. He waited a moment while she got used to him and then began thrusting into her.

From my hiding place I could see them both very clearly and I matched him stroke for stroke, speeding up when he did and then slowing down again when he slowed down. It didn't take long for any of us to reach the end, my balls already felt like they were ready to burst and when I started to hear those little moans and gasps from her, I knew I would very soon explode. He stared pushing into her a bit erratically too, and I thought that maybe we'd all three cum together, but I think I beat them to it by about half a second. But that's when it all started to go wrong, Father, and that's why I've had to come to confession, Father."

"Go on, my son. I understand how difficult it can be, but only God is listening."

"I will, Father. Just as I was shooting my load over the grass in front of me the woman had her orgasm, and when she came she lifted her head and looked straight at me with her mouth hanging open and her eyes screwed up in desperate concentration. She didn't see me, I don't think she was seeing very much at the time to judge from the look of ecstasy on her face, but the point is Father, that it was my wife's face. The woman I had been spying on, who had enjoyed a stranger doing to her what she denied me, was my own wife! This was her so-called art class!"

The priest sat forward with a start. This was not something he had foreseen. Quickly he forced away the immediately uncharitable 'serve's you right' thought that leapt into his mind and composed himself to hear the rest.

"I just ran away Father, I ran to the far side of the graveyard, and then I was sick, really sick, into a bin put there for dead flowers. I sorted myself out as best I could and went and sat in my car. I don't know how long I sat there, and I don't think I care, but then I drove home to try and sort things out with her.

She was already there when I arrived, smiling sweetly like the innocent she wanted me to believe she was, thinking her sordid games were still secret. I confronted her, and she laughed, Father, she actually laughed. I ran upstairs and lay on my bed, crying my eyes out like a child. Now I don't know what to do. Help me, Father."

The priest felt confused. The man had come to confession, but he what was he confessing to? He had spied on lovers and it had backfired on him, was he wanting forgiveness for spying or guidance as to how to deal with his wayward wife?

"Can you find it in your heart to forgive her, my son?"

"I cannot, Father, it is not possible."

"If she knew that you forgave her, perhaps she would come and seek God's forgiveness too? Would this not be a beginning to rebuilding both of your lives?"