by Selena Kitt
“Father Mark?” she whispered, sure he was here somewhere.
“I think you can call me Mark now.” He stepped out of the vestibule, wearing jeans still, but his shirt was white now, the buttons unfastened almost to his navel, and he was barefoot. He had a blanket and a pillow in his arms. “You made it okay?”
Her only answer was to throw her arms around his neck, fastening her mouth to his. He caught her easily, the pillow and blanket forgotten in the heat of their kiss, hands and mouths exploring to depths neither of them could fathom, already. She trembled in his arms, and he carried her like that, arms around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist, past the pews and up to the dais. Behind the podium, there was a makeshift bed, with more blankets and pillows spread out on the floor in full view of all the religious statues.
“Isn’t this sacrilege?” she whispered as he went to his knees, settling her with one of the pillows beneath her head.
His lips caressed her ear. “It’s Heaven.”
And it was.
They couldn’t have stopped it if they tried. Their lust was like a freight train bearing down at them, full speed. Father Mark tried to slow things down, kissing her long and passionately, caressing every inch of her body through her clothes, but it was all too much of a barrier for Emily. She had his shirt all the way off in an instant, her hands roaming over the hard muscles of his back and belly and chest, delighting in seeing him unclothed in the candlelight, but he denied her when she tried to unzip his jeans.
“Oh please,” she whispered, letting him unfasten her blouse and kiss his way down its V. She’d slipped her uniform clothes on before she left, too afraid to get caught outside of the dorm in her pajamas, and he was taking his slow, sweet time undressing her.
“Easy,” he murmured over the top of her generous cleavage, spilling over the cups of her bra.
But she was too impatient, unhooking her own bra, giving him her flesh. He groaned at the sight of her, taking both of her breasts in his hands, his tongue exploring, bathing her in his saliva. He captured her nipples between his lips, first one, then the other, sucking deep, moaning softly and shifting his hips away from her groping hands.
“I want to taste you,” he whispered, kissing his way down her belly, his tongue dipping briefly into her navel. “I’ve been dreaming about this for…”
“For how long?” she teased. He had her skirt pulled up and her panties halfway down to her knees.
“Since the moment I saw you,” he confessed, his cheeks pink as he had her lift her hips so he could unzip her skirt fully.
“Me too,” she admitted, wiggling her hips, letting him slide off her skirt and her panties so she was completely nude, the candlelight throwing soft shadows over her belly as he settled himself between her legs.
“Oh Emily, you’re so soft.” He kissed the insides of her pale, trembling thighs, his cheek brushing the curly hair between her legs. “This must be what angels feel like.”
She just moaned as his tongue traced the bend of her leg, over the top of that triangle of hair, and then straight down the middle, parting her cleft. The sensation was too intense for words, and what he lacked in skill, he made up for in great enthusiasm. She wasn’t sure which of them was enjoying it more, because the sounds he made between her legs as he drank her in rivaled her own cries of pleasure.
“Here,” she begged him, parting her lips with wet fingers and showing him that sweet, sensitive spot. “Oh please, lick me here. Right here.”
He nudged her fingers out of the way with his tongue, focusing on that tiny bud of flesh, circling it, then flicking back and forth. Emily bucked her hips up, meeting his mouth, her whole body trembling with wanting. She was so close, so very close. His tongue made its rounds with no mercy, first hard and pointed, then flat and soft, driving her mad.
“Ohhhh now!” she cried, grabbing a fistful of his hair as she began to climax, her belly clenching, her spasms rocking them both.
“Oh Emily, you taste like Heaven.” He lifted his head slowly, his face wet with her juices, giving her a dreamy look.
She smiled, reaching for him, and welcomed the weight of his body on hers and the bite of his zipper against her flesh as they kissed. He groaned when she sucked at his tongue and lips, licking the taste of her off his mouth. This time he didn’t stop her fumbling and she managed to get his zipper down and her hand inside his jeans.
“Oh my,” she murmured, eyes widening when she felt him in her hand, hot and hard.
He groaned as she fisted him. “You did that.”
“Well then I should finish it.” She giggled, rolling him onto his back.
He let her take his jeans off and his boxers too, so they were now both nude, just as God had made them, tangled together in a heap of blankets and pillows, the points of a hundred candles reflected in their eyes. Emily reached hungrily for him, like steel in her hand, but he wouldn’t let her focus her attention solely on him. His hands roamed over her body, not letting her go, forcing her to turn and wiggle so she could get her mouth over the head of his cock.
“Oh Emily!” He moaned as she began to suck him, shallow and unsure at first, then deeper and longer as he gave her more verbal encouragement. She’d done this with a few boys before, and had even had sex with one last year, so she wasn’t completely inexperienced. But somehow, now, it felt completely new, as if they were both completely innocent, like Adam and Eve, discovering this for this first time.
“Oh!” She gasped as he grabbed her hips, pulling them over so she was straddling his face, and he buried it between her thighs again. “Oh! Oh yes!”
His tongue found its mark, and she found herself grinding her hips against him, almost forgetting about the tower of flesh throbbing against her flushed cheek. She stroked it erratically, occasionally putting her mouth over the head, hearing his soft moan when she did. That would encourage her to do it for a few moments more until the sensation of his lapping tongue caught up with her and she lost herself in it, wriggling and writhing on top of him.
“I’m so close!” she gasped, her hands planted on his thighs, her back arching as she rolled her hips against his plunging tongue. “Oh now! Ohhh please now, now!”
He wrapped his arms around her hips and she gave herself to him completely, her body like a livewire in his arms, each delicious contraction of her climax forcing her to buck on top of him, her cries of pleasure loud and echoing against the high ceilings. Even when she collapsed on him, a trembling, sweaty mess, he wouldn’t let her go, his tongue lapping between her legs, as if he could drink up every last bit of her sweetness.
Finally he let her turn around and come to him, and he cradled her in his arms, their breath still tight and shallow in their chests, both of them so excited it was hard to breathe. The feel of him, still achingly hard against her thigh, made her crazy with lust. He moaned when she groped for and found him, squeezing the length of him in her fist, pulling, guiding him.
“I have to feel you,” she whispered. “Please, please. I have to feel you inside of me.”
He pushed her to her back, his mouth covering hers, slanting sideways as they kissed, and she parted her legs for him in an instant. She felt him hesitate, even though she had her hand between them, aiming him, rocking her hips up, urging him onward.
“Emily, are you a virgin?” he asked, brushing her hair out of her face.
She shook her head, flushing at the admission. “No. One boy. One time.”
He nodded, kissing her forehead, her cheek, then whispering in her ear, “I’ve never…”
“I know,” she whispered back, clutching his hips between her knees. “It’s okay.”
He shifted forward and she felt his glorious length sliding into her for the first time, both of them moaning and shuddering at the sensation. When he was fully inside her, their eyes met, and she thought she’d never seen anything more beautiful in her life as the expression of wonder on his face.
“Nice?” she asked, using her muscles to g
ently squeeze him, making his eyes widen and his cock jump.
“Nice?” he echoed, breathless. He shook his head, burying his face against her neck. “It’s bliss. Beyond words. Oh Emily, you feel so good…”
She wrapped her arms around him as he began to move inside of her, each thrust bringing a cry from his throat that was caught halfway between pain and pleasure, Hell and Heaven. Her knees fell open and she took more of him, deeper, harder, his hips driving against hers, the sound of their flesh coming together filling the little chapel.
“Oh yes,” she whispered, rocking her pelvis up, feeling him so far inside of her it almost hurt, and still she wanted more of him. “Do it hard! Oh please! Fill me up!”
He groaned at her words, plunging deep, his cries rising to a fever pitch, thrusting furiously, as if he was being chased by demons, or perhaps trying to drive them out. She clung, wrapping arms and legs about him, every sweet moment bringing her even closer to bliss, not sure if she would quite make it there before him, and not really caring. Every fiber of her being was open to him, receiving him, being completely and utterly filled, and she’d never felt more whole or complete.
“Emily!” he cried, giving one last painfully hard thrust. “Ohhhhh God! Emily! God! Emily! GodEmilyGodEmily!”
Her name and their Lord’s melted in his mouth as he climaxed, and she cried out and met him, the soft pull of her orgasm making him writhe and hiss on top of her as if he was being burned. The intensity of the sensation took them both by surprise, and they clutched at each other in the dimness, clinging for their lives, as if their souls might hang in the balance between their quivering bodies.
“See what you’ve been missing all these years?” she teased, softly kissing his temple.
He rolled to his back, taking her with him, gathering the covers to pull over their perspiring bodies. She snuggled up close, so sated she thought if she died at that very moment, there would be nothing, nothing in her entire life she would regret.
“The world’s so beautiful.” He whispered his words against the top of her head. “You remind me how much I love the world, and everything in it.”
“Even the sad things?” she mused, her fingers playing over the hair on his chest. “Like little Samantha losing her mother? Or your father not talking to you?”
“Pain just reminds us how sweet love really is.” His arms tightened around her. “I think Heaven is right here, Angel. Right here on Earth. In your arms. And I think God wants us to know that.”
She closed her eyes and listened to the strong beat of his heart against her ear, still not quite believing all of this was real. The thought of it ending, of waking from this dream, made her tremble with fear. Her pranksters were going to do everything they could to cause her pain, and ruining Father Mark and their love would be the ultimate hurt.
“I have to tell you something,” she whispered, not quite sure how to proceed. Should she warn him of Jenny and Eve’s plans?
“Hmm?”
She glanced up at St. Lucy, her sightless eyes dark, blood-like tears on her cheeks, watching over them both. They said justice was blind, and she thought maybe the church was blind too—blind to love, wherever and however it showed up in the world, whether it was between a woman and a man of the cloth, or between two women or two men, for that matter. She had to believe God wasn’t as blind as His followers, and decided in that moment to trust Him. Whatever was meant to be, in the end, would happen. This felt so good, so right, it couldn’t possibly be wrong. And if God felt it was, well… maybe he would punish them after all. But until then…
“I love you,” she murmured, kissing his neck, feeling the reassurance of his answering squeeze and hearing his soft, affectionate whisper, before they both drifted off together.
* * * *
“How are we going to get it to my room without the General seeing us?” Jenny whispered as Emily led her down the hallway. The General was Sister Francine, their “dorm mother.” She had a room down at Jenny and Eve’s end of the hall, across from them, and was known as “the General” because she ran the place like a military outfit. Of course, that was when she was awake. Sister Francine slept like the dead. She’d missed waking up for all three of the fire drills they’d had so far that year, and had thankfully also slept through Emily sneaking out to meet Father Mark.
“It’s in a box.” Emily stopped at her dorm room door, getting out her key and trying to hide the fact that her hands were trembling as she fumbled to put it into the lock. It was late, almost midnight, and thankfully the General was fast asleep, as were most of the girls. There were no open dorm room doors around them. “Now you swear, you won’t say anything to anyone if we give you this right? It’s over after this?”
Jenny smirked. “Of course.”
Emily knew better, but she didn’t say anything as she turned the knob, knowing exactly what she was going to find on the other side of the door. But it was far worse than anything she and Alexis had talked about, or even that she had imagined.
“Eve!?” Jenny called out her roommate and lover’s name, as if she didn’t quite recognize her, but there was no mistaking her long, tawny limbs and the blonde, tumbled mass of hair in Alexis’s bed. She was draped over Alexis’s sleeping form, and both girls were stark naked, belly to belly. Emily saw two empty vodka bottles on her desk, but she could already tell from the smell that they were very drunk.
“Hmmm?” Eve lifted her head, rolling groggily to the side, giving them a full view of their bodies, Eve’s long and slender torso and tiny breasts, Alexis’s more full and voluptuous form. Eve blinked, not registering where she was or what she’d been doing for a moment, clearly still in an alcohol haze. Emily saw her realization happen, like a light bulb had gone off over Eve’s head. “Oh. Ohhh God. Jenny. Oh. I…”
“Eve, what are you doing!?” Jenny screeched. “What in the fuck are you doing with her!?”
Alexis groaned softly, opening her eyes. She gave Emily a dreamy half-smile, and then looked at Jenny. Alexis’s words were slurred, but her message was clear. “Sorry, Jenny, but Eve doesn’t want to be your roommate anymore.”
“That’s fine with me, you stupid cow!” Jenny hissed, narrowing her eyes at both of them. She snarled at Eve and Alexis. “You’re both disgusting perverts. You deserve each other.”
Alexis had pulled the blanket up around them and Eve huddled with her underneath it as they hid from Jenny’s seething anger.
Then Jenny turned her attention to Emily, standing at the doorway, just a foot or so away. “You’re going to pay for this. I’m telling everyone your little secret now, believe me. The whole school’s going to know what you did.”
“You can’t tell,” Alexis piped up. “Because then we’ll tell them about you.”
“What about me?” Jenny sneered, turning to go.
“That you like girls.”
That stopped her, and she turned, surveying them coldly. “Who’s going to believe you? What proof do you have?”
“Well… what proof do you have about Emily and… and…?” Alexis couldn’t even say his name.
“Camera, hello!” Jenny pulled out her iPhone, waving it around. Then she did something none of them had expected. She snapped a photo of Eve and Jenny wrapped in each other’s arms. “There. Now I have proof you’re both disgusting perverts. Wait until Bishop Avery sees this!”
“Get the phone!” Eve cried and Emily lunged for it, but she missed. Jenny side-stepped her easily and skipped out the door. “Go! Get it! Get it!”
Emily tried, but Jenny’s years of soccer gave her a distinct advantage, and she was in her room, with the door locked, before Emily had made it halfway down the hall. Back in her room, Eve and Alexis were up and getting dressed, pulling on panties and t-shirts.
“She’s got pictures,” Emily said miserably, sinking down onto her own bed. Eve had warned her, of course, but she hadn’t quite believed it was true until she’d glimpsed a picture on Jenny’s iPhone—a heated embrace she r
emembered quite well in front of the chapel. “She’s going to tell.”
“Maybe she won’t.” Eve sat on Alexis’s bed, pulling a sheet over her bare legs. “She’s pretty afraid of her mom and dad finding out she’s gay.”
“I feel kind of bad for her.” Alexis sat next to Eve, who nudged her angrily with her hip. “I said kind of!”
“Think they’ll let us all stay in this room for the year?” Alexis slid back under the covers, putting her head down on her pillow.
“Don’t worry, you two will make great roommates.” Emily sighed. “I won’t be here much longer to be roommates with anybody. They’re going to expel me.”
“Don’t be so fatalistic.” Eve yawned, slipping back into bed with Alexis. “I still have a key to Jenny’s room, remember?”
Emily had a brief, fleeting moment of hope as she watched Alexis and Eve fall back asleep. They were both obviously still pretty intoxicated, and they were probably going to regret their high level of alcohol consumption in the morning. Although, looking at the way they twined together, she doubted they would regret whatever else had happened tonight.
She got dressed for bed and turned out the light, listening for Jenny, sure she would come storming back down the hall with Sister Francine, ready to take names and start expelling students, but the dorm remained eerily quiet. Maybe it’s an omen, she told herself, as she started to drift off to sleep.
Maybe there was a small chance it would be okay after all.
* * * *
“Wow, déjà vu.” Emily squeezed Father Mark’s hand as they stepped into the chapel’s side door.
“I want to show you something.”
“Again?” she teased as he led her toward the front of the church. “I don’t think I can handle any more surprises this week. Did you hear Jenny left school? Her parents came to pick her up yesterday.”
“I heard.”
“Poor Eve. She’s all by herself now.” Emily didn’t mention how often Eve had slept in her room this week, in Alexis’s bed. Who was she to squash a budding love affair? She was glad they were happy. Someone should be.