Pardonnez Moi Pere

There was a girl in a small town that all the boys wanted to have and that all the girls refused to acknowledge. Some thought she was the spawn of Lilith because of how many boys (and men) she had laid with in the biblical sense, but the rest of the town saw her for what she truly was. Just another teenage girl who didn't get enough attention at home, so she resorts to other means to fill the attention deficit. This girl had few friends, or should we say 'true' friends, because with her reputation -- relationships were always going up in some when she showed her...face.

We're talking about the girl that gets the innocent girls to shed their inhibitions and persuades the poor souls to forsake their good girl beliefs and get the guy -- if only for a night. Now, you might be under the impression that this nameless bad girl is our main subject... but I regret to inform you this is not the case. Our beautiful protagonist, if you wish to call her that, is little Mya. Her eighteenth birthday just happened to pass us by so the 'story' I'm about to tap out for you is not for those who are secretly attracted to the young(er) ladies. My apologies.

On a Thursday afternoon, a bright and sunny (if a bit breezy) Thursday, our favored little Mya had a run in with the infamous Veronica. Now, Ronnie might be naughty and definitely scandalous but she still had her morals; no matter how loose they might be. With her text books spread out across a blue and pink paisley blanket, Mya sat preparing the end of the year exams. Blonde hair, so light in color it appeared silver at times, was tucked behind a delicately curved ear that were only pierced once; old school. Little Mya was dedicated to the extreme to only four things in life; family, church, vintage and school. Her family was old school Catholic, they insisted on keeping her in a private Catholic school where the students were required to wear a uniform. Now, before you mind goes to the gutter and you picture a cropped white shirt and a short plaid skirt, let me inform you; that is an overused cliche.

The boys all wear light blue polo shirts with the school crest over the left side of the chest paired with either dark blue or black slacks, but the girls are subject to an extra choice. They can decide between the same uniform the boys wear, or they can choose to wear a dark blue pleated skirt with light blue decorative stitching and pair it with a white dress shirt and a vest with the crest over the left breast. Mya, with her vintage view point on clothing never failed to choose the skirt ensemble; but she always wore a pair of black pin-striped panty hose to conceal the soft, smooth skin of her legs.

But, I digress, where was I? Oh, yes.

Veronica, and the small amount of girls that considered themselves her 'proteges' just so happened to stumble upon Mya in the park on that glorious Thursday afternoon. "Well, look who we have here, girls. It's little Mya Doane. I'm sorry I missed your birthday bash, but I think my invite was gobbled up by a hungry mailman. Is that what happened, Doane?"

"Yeah, that's what happened Veronica. You have my sincerest apologies. Maybe next year you'll get it."

"Maybe, though I am more inclined to believe you just never sent one my way in the first place. Lucky for you, I'm in a good mood and willing to forgive and forget. I'm also feeling generous. I heard that a certain Benjamin Wilcox likes you, I'm willing to offer you a few...lessons to help you catch him like the huge bass he is, for a price of course." Veronica was nothing, if not brilliant. She understood that if you dangled the one thing someone wanted the most in the world in front of them, they quickly became putty inf your hands. This was something she often did, especially to gain more 'friends' to put beneath her manicured thumbs.

"Well..I don't know. He didn't even show up to my party, I don't think he likes me."

"Pish posh, I over heard him talking about you just this morning in first block."

Now you might not think a lot can be done in just a few hours but Veronica was the queen of transformation. She had a talent for making the more homebody-ish girls into mini-vixens in under three hours. It was like flipping houses, only with living, breathing people. Veronica always knew thee there was a party happening; yes, she's -that- girl -- an It girl. So under the heavily misguided touch of Ronnie, Mya was escorted to this party in a fresh off the rack designer dress, dressed to impress with only one guy in her angst filled brain. Benjamin. You might be thinking, ohhhh wow. A high school party; so very interesting, also accompanied by a tone of complete sarcasm but nothing happens. Well, not anything Ronnie would be proud of, at least. But the next morning, a head splitting migraine was Mya's new best friend for the entire day. She found it harder to focus on the last three exams of the year though with her grades and dedication she knew all the right answers; after the questions actually registered in her alcohol soaked (or should we say fried, ) brain.

Wincing as the last bell of the entire year rang through the two story, brick-faced school building, she was one of the very few that hung back to avoid being run over by the summer eager masses. When she finally did leave, the meager contents of her locker were tucked into the safety of her satchel and her long legs carried her out to the Jeep that awaited her in the now mostly empty student parking lot. Extra dark sunglasses shielded bright cerulean eyes from the strength of the sun's rays and even the gentle purr of the engine sounded more like the roar of a hungry lion. A heavy weight rested over her head and shoulders but now that she was out of school, she was free to take two of the midol she always kept in her bag; knowing that within the next half hour her head wouldn't pound quite as much or as violently.

Taking the long way home, she stopped to pick up a quick bite to eat the diner she always frequented and on the last leg of the trip home she decided to stop by the church. She was still underage, she shouldn't have succumbed to temptation and lost herself in the alcohol. She shouldn't have ever even gone to the party, after all Veronica had been the one to suggest it. Constantly kicking herself in the behind for making the wrong choices the previous night, she parked and headed inside, instantly heading for the front pew to sit. Bowing her head, the vintage inspired rosary came out from beneath the neckline of her shirt and from around the delicate line of her throat only to be wrapped gingerly around a small hand. Blue eyes closed and her lips mouthed a silent prayer asking for forgiveness. Eventually she moved to kneel in front of one of the many lit alters, murmuring hat she considered were her sins. The feel of a strong hand landing gently on her slim shoulder had her jumping in surprise though a smile stretched her soft pink lips at the sight of who the hand belonged to.

"Father Aleksandr, how are you?"

"I am doing well Mya, thank you Is there something troubling you?"

"Well..sort of."

"Would you like to talk about it, or is it worthy of the confessionals?"

"Id rather no one else overheard, Father."

"Of course, my dear. Come."

A hand was extended to her and she slid her hand into his and stood, unable to take her eyes off the incredible size difference between her hand and his. Stumbling into him, she apologized the entire way to the confessionals. Just before they opened the doors, he spoke, "It's quite alright, Mya." Stepping into the small booths, they both closed the doors and sat down even s he slid the wooden panel back to reveal the rosary imprinted mesh in the window.

"What plagues you, my dear?"

"I almost don't know where to begin...I'm usually such a good girl, I never stay out late, I never party or do drugs or drink. I always get good grades in school and I always do my best to make my parents proud. But last night...I let Veronica Marsh talk me into going to a party. She said that the boy I like would be there and that he wanted to see me. So, I went...but he wasn't there..and then Veronica just started handing me drink after drink but she told me it was some sort of new, fresh into the market soda that hadn't hit the super markets yet. Stupid me believed her and I just kept drinking, cup after cup until I passed out in the back of my Jeep. There was a guy that tried to...well..get me to have..sex with him but then he threw up and passed out on the drive way."

Lapsing into silence, she listened to the quiet sound of his breathing in the adjoining room. As she had talked, all Father Aleksandr could see was her knelt on the ground in that skirt of hers with her blonde head bowed. In all his years at the church he had never once faced such a dilemma; he wanted her, badly and even though the rules said he couldn't have her, every muscle in his body said to break the rules just this once.

"Father?"

Broken from the scene playing out in his mind, he cleared his throat and adjusted himself in the loose fitting trousers. "Have you asked for forgiveness? Your life long innocence is an enormous buffer against such small sins, though they might seem huge to you at the moment."

"I have asked and I await a sign to let me know of my forgiveness, Father. Though there are other things...that I should confess. I have dreams...bad dreams, not nightmares..but...naughty ones. I don't know why, its not like I think about sex, because I don't I assure you Father. But I still can't deny the effects these dreams have on me."

Even as she picked nervously at the edge of her skirt, her voice all aflutter with embarrassment, he couldn't help but wonder what her dreams were about specifically. "Well, my dear. There comes a time in everyone's life where they begin to yearn for something without even conscientiously realizing it. What exactly are your dreams about?"

"Oh...well..its kind of embarrassing but..most of the dreams are of me...having sexual relations with people, men...but I never really see their faces. Well, except for one. There's always one dream that comes that almost seems like a continuation of itself and its always with the same man..but even if I was...closer to his age, its not possible." A heavy blush crept up the delicate slope of her neck to settle in the apples of her cheeks, her fingers now drumming nervously against her thighs as she hoped and prayed he wouldn't ask her who the man was. Unfortunately, her prayers were left unanswered this time.

"And who might this man be? I take it he is someone you know personally?" For some reason his thoughts of her had taken a drastic turn though he had no idea why. He had watched her grow up since she was thirteen, why was he all of a sudden thinking o her in the most forbidden way? Without realizing it, his hand had fallen into his lap; his fingertips idly beginning to stroke along the length of his shaft. What she said next he could never have expected though he couldn't deny that he had hoped for it when he asked her who it was in the first place.

"You, Father Aleksandr."

He could just make out the blush in her cheeks as his gaze was jerked to the veiled window between them. For a moment, he was speechless but then his curiosity got the better of him; or was it his hunger for her?

"And what do I do to you in these dreams, Mya?"

"Oh...uhmm.." She trailed off, not quite certain if she should tell him or not, though they were in a confessional. "Sometimes you reward me for all my hard work in school...and other times you punish me...for having such naughty dreams."

"And how do I reward you? How do I punish you?" By now he was sure she could hear the slight waver in his voice that was the effect of his hand on his cock, even though it was still tightly confined in his slacks.

"You...you reward me by buying me dinner at some restaurant and then we go back to your place and then you lay me down on your bed..and..uhm...make love to me. But in others, you bend me across your lap, right here, in the confessionals and spank me until I can't take it anymore."

He couldn't take it anymore. The soft lilt of her voice talking about him bending her over his knee, among everything else, had him opening the door to his side so he could step into hers when he saw that no one else was in the church.

"Father!"

Her gorgeous blue eyes flew wide open as he pulled her out of the booth by the hand only to lead her over to the double doors. "I want you to get in your car and wait for me. When you see a blue sedan pull out from behind the church, I want you to follow it. Will you do that for me, Mya?"

He could see her face drain of color as she realized what he wanted her to do; no doubt she also knew why he wanted her to do it too, considering her gaze kept dropping to his hips only to jump back up to meet his again with every other word out of his mouth. Seeing her nod, he opened the door for her and watched her walk out to her vehicle, waiting until she was in the car before letting the door close and turning to rush to the back of the church. Popping his head into the main office's doorway, he cleared his throat.

"Father Samuel, I need to go home. That stew I had for lunch just isn't sitting well with me. I hope you understand."

"Of course, Aleksandr. I hope you feel better soon and if you can't come in tomorrow, just let me know."

"Of course, Samuel. Have a good night."

He hurried out the back way, wondering the whole time if Mya would still be waiting out front for him. Finding his car, he slid in behind the wheel and nervously pulled around front only to breathe a huge sigh of relief when the dark red Jeep was waiting right there for him with Mya cradled in the driver's seat. For the next ten minutes they played follow the leader all the way to his town house, his eyes darting to the mirror every few minutes to make sure she was still there, right behind him. Hitting the button for the garage door, he parked in one side and looked over to see her pulling into the second, always empty, spot. Killing the engine, he practically threw his six foot five frame out of the car and lunged across the space between their vehicles to scoop her up and press her to the side of her Jeep.

"Father Aleksandr..." She started hesitantly.

"Shhh, my sweet Mya. Today is the day your dreams actually come true."

She watched as he steadily grew closer and closer, her eyes wide for only a moment when he kissed her before closing tightly as she began to kiss him back. Now, my dears, this isn't just a soft kiss you might exchange with your parents when your little; this is a full blown french kiss, their tongues pleasurably warring with each other as they sank deeper and deeper into the hungry kiss. She was the first one to break away, her lungs were much smaller compared to his and they were screaming at her to take in a deeper breath then what she could get through her nose, while entrenched in the feel of his mouth on hers. Gasping, the ache in her lungs faded but soon a new ache came into play, this one residing further south and growing stronger as he wrapped her legs around him and carried her into the house. Without realizing it, or even really giving it a lot of thought, the white was taken from his collar and cast down to the carpet covering the stairs, his shirt buttons quickly coming undone even as her vest was snatched open and discarded somewhere on the stairs as well. Kicking her shoes off, they couldn't keep from kissing each other though they didn't restrict it to just lips anymore. Imagine two star crossed lovers who haven't seen each other in years; the way they claw at each others clothing only to become gentle and caressing when bare skin is revealed for their devouring pleasure. And no, I don't mean that in a literal sense, my sweets.

That scene fits little Mya and Father Aleksandr perfectly. The cliched trail of clothing led from the bottom of the stairs all the way up and down the hall and into the master bedroom; the last piece of clothing to come off being dragged from her hips slowly -- as if he wished to savor the moment. (And maybe he did.) Kisses were placed along the top of her delicate little foot, a hungry trail of seductive kisses placed along the length of her leg all the way up until her thigh curved upwards into her hip. "Your skin is delicious...so sweet...so soft." His words trailed off, his eyes drawn to the single most forbidden part of her anatomy, the dark pink folds that would grip at him like velvet steeped in hot water.

Her eyes shot wide open at the feel of his lips upon her slit, traveling higher until the reached the newest in her small collection of piercings. "Such a naughty little girl, I wonder if anyone else knows about this little treat." Immediately he fell into the task of assaulting the pierced rosebud in the most deliciously torturous way that left her writhing and clutching at the bed sheets. She'd never had a boy, much less a man, do any of these things to her, she had never even really been kissed unless you counted kisses from family members when she was young, which she definitely didn't. Every tiny little thing he did built the never before felt sensation of pressure building up in the cradle of her hips, the slow plunge of his finger within her clutching depths silently egging her on until finally she cried out at the top of her lungs; her first ever orgasm washing through her quicker then either of them thought possible.

She felt like she was weightless and floating on cloud nine, every nerve ending blazing, her fingers and toes curled around and against the bedspread as her eyes fluttered and occasionally clenched shut at the sensory overload she was experiencing. Instead of stopping though, like any normal guy would do, Aleksandr kept going, swiping and circling her delicious little clit over and over until the time between her contractions faded into minutes instead of seconds. Standing, he looked down at her gorgeously curved body and cleaned her sweet tasting juices from his fingertips the second she was able to look up at him. The bed shifted with his weight as he lowered himself over her, hovering above her with one hand supporting him while the other cupped her cheek softly. "Mya?"

There were tears in her eyes, tears of pleasure at the warm glow within her that her orgasm left inside of her. Hearing his concern laced whisper of her name, she looked up at him and nodded, tilting her cheek into his gentle touch and curled her legs comfortably around his hips. "Yes, please...I w..want you, Father. Please!" Her young, desire driven cry and the perverse use of his title was the last straw. Guiding himself into her, he gave her just the tip of his shaft to start with, the tightness of her muscles around him making him realize just how tiny she really was compared to him though he wouldn't let it stop him.

Her hips rose, a moan escaping through slightly parted lips, her hands finding the bulge of his biceps, her muscles clenching around the head of his cock which only served to snatch a matching set of moans from both of them. Gasping as he gave her another inch to get used to, she arched up off the bed and pulled him down to meet her for a deep and hungry kiss. Whispering against his lips, her nails dug into the strength of his upper arms. "Just do it...I'm ready, please." She thought it would hurt when he thrust all eight inches within her clutching folds but she was surprised when all she felt was a rush of pleasure flooding her entire body. He had incredible stamina and control because with every thrust she was already clinging to him as an anchor, trying so hard to keep from climaxing around him so soon after he buried himself within her.

For a girl that had never even masturbated, orgasms were a sure thing with a man like him as her first lover in the entire world. The pleasure that flooded her system had her on the precipice more often then not, her orgasms beginning to run together. Sinking her fingers into his short, dirty blond locks as his head bowed, she moaned deeply as he dragged his lips across the valley between the small mounds of her breasts, his hands skimming up the curves of her sides until he could cup and massage them as he saw fit. His hands fit perfectly around them, her pierced nipples almost as hard as diamonds against his palms as he manipulated them softly in his firm yet gentle grip.