But his prick was so sore and burning that he could not fall asleep. Soon his penis began to throb again and when he looked down, he saw that the limp member had begun to stretch.
“It's already half soft,” the angel of his conscience whispered in one ear.
“It's almost half hard again!” shouted the devil of carnal lust triumphantly into the other.
The good priest touched the tip of his prick with one finger.
“Ouch!” That was sensitive! But nevertheless, it seemed that the bold member was more than willing to get out of its state of half-heartedness. It proudly erected again, and the young priest said, “Oh, my darling. You have been so good today. I promise you that soon you shall have a nice, young and tender little girl to exercise your full powers as God has given them to you. Unfortunately, I don't know when that will be. But I hope it will be soon. Please have patience, my darling. She will be there, I promise you…”
The ringing of the doorbell cut short the good father's monologue.
“Who the devil could that be?” he asked.
Since he had no time to dress, he threw his cassock over his naked body, holding the folds together with one hand. Since he was still wearing his shoes and socks, it looked for all the world as if he were fully dressed.
Then he went to open the door.
And he jumped back with a little cry of surprise.
The person who had rung the doorbell was no one else but the young girl who had excited him so much.
“What! You! You?” whispered Father Pineraide, closing the door behind her.
“Yes… yes… dear father… I have come to you as soon as my mother left the house. I have a confession to make… I have committed a grave sin.”
“All right, my dear girl, come in here. I just happen to be alone at the moment, so I have all the time in the world to listen to your confession. I can give it my full and undivided attention.”
“But I am in a terrible hurry… I don't want my mother to find out… I also…”
“You can stay as long as you want. Now, come in here, please.”
And the priest pulled the young girl toward his bedroom.
CHAPTER IV. Little Theresa
The little girl hesitated a moment when she reached the doorstep of the priestly bedroom.
“Oh, my dear child, don't be afraid,” said the priest, “you are here in the presence of the Lord, the house is next to His sanctuary and His angels will protect you.”
The little girl entered. As a matter of fact, she seemed to be determined! Her eyes sparkled curiously, her cheeks were deep red, and her breasts heaved.
The priest was immediately aware of her situation. And she looked so pretty and appetizing, this fifteen-year-old child who was so naively trusting.
Father Pineraide sat down and pulled the little girl toward him. She tried to kneel in front of him.
“No, not that way!” exclaimed the priest. “That would be too tiresome for you. Here, just sit down upon my lap. It's really quite simple…”
“What? You want to…”
“But, why not? Aren't you my daughter? Am I not your father confessor? Well then? Is it so impossible for a father to listen to his daughter while she is sitting on his lap?”
“I… I don't think so.”
“Well, then, sit down!”
And he picked her up by the waist.
“There. Are you comfortable?”
“But, pastor… sorry, I mean to say, Father… I don't know what's happening to me. Your knee feels as if it is on fire… and your arm around my waist… it, it feels so strange. No, not your arm… I mean, it's me. It makes me feel so giddy.”
“That happens to be the sensation caused by the members of the Men of God, my dear child. It's nothing to worry about. The divine presence within us makes itself felt with this comfortable, warm glow. Relax and enjoy it. It happens to all of God's children that are touched by His priests. But now, my dear child, I am ready to hear your confession. Don't hesitate to tell me every little detail of the great sin you committed which made you run to the shelter of my protection. But first, what's your name… I mean, your first name?” Theresa…”
“That is a charming name. Very charming. I like that name very much. All right, Theresa, start talking… I am listening.”
“Oh, my Father… I…”
“Don't call me Father. That is no longer necessary…”
And, touching her breast, slowly squeezing a hardening little nipple, he whispered in her ear, “Call me… Anatole… that's my first name…”
“Oh, I would never dare… well, all right. It's like this… ah…”
“Anatole.”
“Ah… Anatole…”
“That's right.”
“For the first time in my life… I… I have… touched myself…”
“What do you mean by that?” asked the priest, whose prick was getting very hard because of the warm touch of Theresa's young buttocks.
“I mean,” the young girl went on, “that when you patted me on the cheek this morning, I began to feel so funny that I had to run upstairs, lock myself into my room and… well, as I said… I touched myself.”
“Where?”
“There!” said Theresa, pointing at the center of her lovely, young body.
“Ah! There!” the priest said, his eyes following the gaze of the young maiden. “I see… there… and, may I ask, with which finger?”
“This one, dear Father.”
“Anatole…”
“This one, Anatole,” the child said obediently, showing him her finger.
“Aah, that one!” Pineraide exclaimed. “I just have to kiss it, my child. It's the only way to absolve you from your sin.”
And his eager lips sucked at Theresa's finger.
“It must have been a terrible sin… I mean, it was a pretty nasty thing I did, wasn't it…?”
“A grave sin, yes; but definitely not nasty. Especially not if the dear Lord granted you favorable results.”
“What do you mean by 'favorable results'?”
“I mean, if God has permitted you to enjoy it.”
“Oh, did He ever! Oh, yes, I am sure… I mean… I must have been quaking for at least five minutes!”
“And is that the only grave sin you have ever committed in your entire life?”
“Yes.”
“You have never seen a man?”
“No, never.”
“Aha! You are still a virgin?”
“Yes, a virgin!”
“In that case I think you deserve forgiveness.”
“Are you going to give me absolution?”
“Yes, my… child… yes, dear, dear child… oh, yes, my love. You deserve a good absolution more than anyone else. Because, after all, isn't it my fault, too, that you have so gravely and uselessly sinned? But before I absolve you, before I impart God's good Grace upon your soul, I must convince myself that you are truly a virgin.”
“But how can you do that?”
“Ah, my dear child. A priest knows how to do that. God has given us for that purpose a second face.”
And he pulled the tender child closer to his broad chest, held her there firmly with one arm, his free hand unbuttoning her blouse.
“For the love of God, what are you doing?” cried the girl.
“The same thing someone once did for Mary Magdalene. I only want to make sure that the melons of the Archangel Gabriel are still in good condition.”
“Whose melons?”
“Yes! There they are! Your breasts… those charming, exciting little tits! Right there! Both of them! Ooh, God, how nice and tiny. And those nipples! Dear Lord in Heaven! They're ripe, full and firm, waiting to be plucked by your humble gardener… ooh, I want to kiss them, like this, and this and this… I could suck them and bite them and nibble those delicious little boobies forever and ever!”