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“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” Natasha shamefully admitted through the partition.
The Priest had known her family for almost 20 years now. She, her husband Peter, and their two children - David, 12, and Charlotte, 10 - were very good Catholics, and came to church every Sunday. Charlotte and her husband were both in their early-to-mid 30s. “What is your sin, my child?” He asked.
“Well, Father, I think it’s best if I just tell you the story.”
***
Last Sunday, we were at church, as normal. You might’ve noticed we arrived a little late? Well, David was really dragging the chain getting ready that morning. He wouldn’t come out of the shower. Anyway, that’s why we were right up the back, at the end of the pew. If only we’d been closer up, this whole thing wouldn’t have happened.
So, Charlotte was next to Peter, then I was next to Peter, and David was next to me. At least, to start with. He was so fidgety all throughout the Mass. You know how boys are. But this time, he was particularly bad, and I couldn’t get him to stay still even for a minute. I tried distracting him, getting him to draw comics on the church newsletters, like he normally does, but no dice. Anyway, at some point, when we were standing up, he decided to start climbing over the pew - maybe to annoy Charlotte or something. But as he shuffled behind me, he - forgive me - he ...brushed against my rear. And I ...felt it. I felt… him. Forgive me, Father, but my son had an erection, and without even thinking, he brushed it against me as he was making his way past me to get further down the pew.
Lord knows why I did what I did, but I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in front of me, and we were standing there, me behind my son, just like we’d done so many times when he was little. I checked to make sure my husband was looking away - looking towards you, Father - and I reached down, and I started rubbing it. I could feel his erection through his dressy church trousers, and I started rubbing his young erection, right there in church, right next to my husband and daughter.
David didn’t mind, not one bit. He put his hand on my wrist as a way of saying “Keep it up.” So I did. I slowly, purposefully rubbed my preteen son’s dick in the middle of church, and I immediately felt guilty, but even more so, I felt turned on. Like, the most turned on I’ve ever been in my entire life. What I was doing was so completely outside of my moral character as a Catholic, but Heaven help me, I started feeling so incredibly randy. I felt my cheeks flush, I felt my hands trembling, and I felt that certain special kind of warmth between my legs, with an intensity I’ve not known, even on my and Peter’s wedding night. Oh my God, I’ve never felt anything like it before - knowing what I was doing was illegal, immoral, and that I could be discovered any second - but I just couldn’t stop. And David wasn’t going to let me stop, either, let me tell you - he was leaning back into me, his head pushing into my breasts, his hand clenching my wrist as I stimulated him.
We couldn’t have been doing that for more than thirty seconds - a minute, tops - when I finally came to my senses. I told myself I couldn’t keep doing this; what I was doing to my son was so fucked up, and if Peter or anyone else in Mass caught me, my life would be over. So I stopped rubbing my son through his trousers, and he immediately said “What the Hell, Mum?”
I shushed him, then turned to my husband and said “Our son is being very naughty today. Do you think I should get him out of here?” Peter agreed it was for the best.
So I took David by the hand and led him outside. “What the Hell was that?” He asked me once we were outside.
“Are you asking why I started doing that to you, or why I stopped?” I asked.
“Both, I guess? But mostly why you stopped.”
“That's what I wanted to hear,” I replied. I took him around the corner, just in front of that little garden there, out of sight of the road and anybody who might pass by. I dropped to my knees in front of my son and undid his pants. His underwear had a wet patch of precum and his little erection was stretching the fabric. God help me, I was so fucking turned on, I could barely control myself.
“Mum, is this really happening?” David asked me.
“Do you want this to happen, baby?” I asked in response. I prayed he would say yes.
My prayers were answered. “God yes,” he replied without hesitation, then pulled his underwear down.
I hadn't been this close to David’s dick since he was a baby. But now I was staring straight at his hard little erection, precum oozing from the tip of his foreskin, his prepubescent body free from any unsightly body hair. I felt possessed. I needed him inside me. I needed to taste him. I needed to give my body to my son for his pleasure and mine. All these sinful, lustful, shameful, incestuous, perverted, illegal thoughts swam in my mind.
I called myself a filthy whore, but that only turned me on more. I prayed for strength, but it went unanswered. I opened my mouth and welcomed my only son’s hard penis into me, and it was amazing. I've rarely sucked my husband’s dick, and only ever at his request. But here I was, voluntarily sucking my 12 year old boy’s hard little boycock. He tasted so sweet and pure. I was filled with a sick pleasure, knowing I was the one who was taking my child’s virginity.
I sucked him gently, easily taking in all three-and-a-half inches of his cock into my mouth. I slid my lips up and down his shaft and moaned. He groaned happily, no doubt still unable to believe I was doing this to him. He put his hands on my head and started thrusting his hips, driving his delicious little boycock in and out of his mother’s eager mouth. With David now in control of the blowjob, I reached around and unzipped my dress at the back, and unhooked my bra. I slipped the straps off my shoulders and let my breasts free.
David looked down and saw my tits bouncing in time with his thrusting and couldn't take much more. I heard his breath pick up and get more shallow. He started fucking my mouth faster and faster. I knew what was happening and I happily let him do it.
He moaned louder than he should've as he built himself to climax using my mouth. Then, a second or two later, his body went rigid and his little balls retracted up and his little cock swelled and started spurting his seed into my mouth. He shuddered and groaned with pleasure as his cock sprayed into his mother's mouth, rope after rope of sweet white cum shooting out of his little boycock. Once he was finished, I swallowed all of my son’s first ever orgasm.
“Oh my God, Mum, what was that?” He asked me once he caught his breath.
“That was my baby boy’s first ever blowjob and orgasm,” I informed him. I looked up and smiled at his sweet little face, all flushed with orgasmic joy. Fuck, that just made me want him inside me even more. I lay down on the grass and reached up my dress and removed my underwear. “Now fuck Mum and give me your second orgasm,” I ordered him.
He obediently got down on his knees and with his hand guiding his cock - which was still hard! - he entered me. My son slid himself inside the same hole he entered God’s Earth barely 12 years ago. I know in my mind I was thinking how it was so unnatural, so wrong and so illegal, but it felt so natural, so right, and so loving. Father, having now experienced sex with my underage son, I have no idea why the Lord made incest or sex with a minor a sin. The moment I welcomed David back inside my body after 12 years was the closest I've ever felt to God.
I slowly rocked my hips back and forth, relishing the feeling of my son’s little cock parting my lips and entering me, easily sliding in and out of me. He did the same, thrusting his hips, instinctively matching my rhythm, fucking his mother while I fucked my son. I pulled his head down and let him suck on my nipples, just as he did as an infant. I reached between my legs and started masturbating, rubbing my clit back and forth while I fucked my baby boy. I didn’t care that anyone could come outside to use the toilet and find us there, committing our horribly sinful act.
“That’s it, baby,” I whispered to him. “Fuck your mother, David. Oh Jesus Christ, your beautiful cock feels amazing inside me.” I started rocking my hips faster, squeezing my pussy tight around his little boycock, my fingers playing furiously with my clit. I’ve always tried to lead a sin-free life; always following everything The Bible said; always been a good Catholic girl, but all of that just went right out the window last Sunday. I wanted nothing more than to be my son’s filthy whore, a slave for incest, a dirty pedophile, and I think he wanted the same. I was so fucking horny, and the knowledge that I was corrupting my only son - on church grounds, no less - did nothing to lessen my arousal; in fact, it just turned me on even more. I felt emboldened. “Fuck your mother’s cunt,” I moaned, despite never having said that word in my life. “Fuck me, David. Fuck Mum with your magnificent little boycock. Mum’s gonna be your whore, baby. Any time you want me, I’m yours.”
He kept sucking my tits and started fucking me harder. “Oh my God, Mum,” he groaned. “You feel so good, I wanna do this instead of church every week.”
“Shit yes, baby.” By this point, we were fucking so hard, our bodies were making wet slapping sounds that echoed around us. Neither of us cared that the sounds of our unholy, sinful, incestuous, illegal and immoral union could maybe be heard in the church, though; we just kept fucking, mother and son, beside the church in the morning sunlight. I know I'm going to Hell, but in that moment I didn't care. I was getting so, so close to orgasm; I wanted my son to feel me cum. “Kiss me, David,” I ordered. He obeyed, and looked up from my hard, wet nipples for the first time. He leaned in close to me and I met his lips with mine. His mouth was so soft and so warm. I wasted no time in sliding my tongue into his mouth, and he immediately started sucking my tongue like the good boy he is. Seconds after we kissed, I was approaching the point of no return. I cradled my son’s head as we fucked and I rubbed my swollen clit until, finally, I came.
I did so well not to scream with incestuous, orgasmic delight. I panted and panted while I felt the tsunami of release wash over my body, starting in my cunt and exploding out. I spasmed and twitched as he kept on fucking the hole that birthed him. My pussy muscles tightened around his hard-working little dick and squeezed it so tight inside me.
“You’re so beautiful, Mum,” he told me. In that moment, I was ready to give up my entire religion and devote myself to fucking my underage son.
“You’re even more beautiful, baby,” I panted, still waiting to get my breath back. “Now cum inside me, David. Fill up Mum’s cunt before anyone finds us out here,” I demanded. I know, it’s so wrong that I wanted his seed inside me. And as a good Catholic woman, I’ve never been on the pill, and I know the Church’s feelings about condoms too. But I was so horny, I couldn’t care less about the consequences.
My son didn’t disappoint. As though he had just been waiting for my permission, he almost immediately started breathing harder and fucked me as hard as he could. In less than five seconds, he was cumming again, this time inside me, filling me up with cum just like Peter had done when we conceived him. I squeezed him tight inside me as I felt each sinful spurt of his delicious white seed erupt from his little dick and shoot into my womb.
“Good boy, David,” I cooed. “That’s it baby, fill me up.” After about 10 or 15 seconds, he was done. He withdrew from me and collapsed on top of me, his head resting on my tits. “Oh my God, baby, that was amazing,” I told him.
“Oh my God, it so was, Mum,” he replied. “Thank you so much, Mum.”
“No, thank you, baby. I’ve never been so turned on in my life. But nobody can ever know about this, okay? It’s between you, me, and Jesus, okay?”
“Of course, Mum, whatever you say. I love you and I’m sorry for acting up in Mass.”
“Don’t be, baby. I’m sure it was all part of God’s plan to lead us to this moment. Now, get dressed and we’ll wait outside for church to finish, okay?”
He only asked me one question while we waited: “Is this going to be a regular thing, like you said it would be, um, during?”
“Of course it will be, David. That’s why God invented confession, after all.”
***
Natasha was flushed, and seemed to awaken from a spell she’d cast upon herself. Had she really confessed all that - in such graphic detail and with such foul language - to her elderly priest? She braced herself for the multitude of Hail Marys, Lord’s Prayers and various other recommendations that were to come as penance for her incestuous pedophilia. “What should I do, Father?”
Once he had realised Natasha was done recounting her story, the Priest had only one thing to say: “Next time, Natasha, I beg you. Let me watch.”