Page 2 of Beneath His Robes

“But you must turn away from it. You must seek purity as God’s faithful son.”

The voice on the other side chuckled softly. “Purity is a fleeting thing, Father. Don’t you know that? It’s so easily broken, so easily undone. But even then, the desire doesn’t go away. It only grows. I burn for him. I achefor him. That fire was something that could only be extinguished with his denial, and maybe…not even then.”

My chest tightened at the words. My fingers strained around the edge of the partition, my mind racing. Something about how this stranger spoke felt like a temptation, an allure I could feel deep in my bones.

“Father…” the voice whispered, a smirk almost tangible behind his words. “Do you ever find yourself thinking about those you’ve sworn to save? Hearing the fantasies of one’s sins every day…

He pulled in a deep breath, ragged and mournful.

“It must cloud your mind. Have you ever sinned yourself? Allowed yourself to think of the desires of others? I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from imagining a man running his hands down my thighs in that booth, spreading them wide, watching as I got harder for him right in front of his eyes.”

I leaned back, my mind reeling.

My hands were sweating, and I tried to rid myself of the perspiration by rubbing them on my knees, but then the man’s words took root. I adjusted the collar around my neck, which felt like it was choking me.

This is just another soul seeking forgiveness.

But despite my words, my body, my flesh, betrayed me. The voice, so smooth, so familiar, was doing something to me.

“Only God can absolve us of our sins,” I managed to say, but my voice was strained, and there was a subtle tremor in the words. “I cannot help you with your temptation. You must confess your sins and sincerely repent.”

“Is that really what you want, Father? For me to repent?” The man’s voice was dangerously low, a taunting whisper now. “Or do you want me to continue? To test your faith, to tempt you with what you can’t have? I can hear you panting. Is your dick as hard as mine is right now?”

My body reacted involuntarily, desire and want spreading through my chest, my cock bulging beneath my robes and dancing at the soft sounds of his deep breathing on the other side.

“You must not speak like that,” I replied, trying to regain control of the conversation.

I returned my hands to the partition, my grip on the ledge tightening. “This is not the place for such…indulgences.”

The voice laughed softly, but the sound was dark, dripping with intent. “Is it indulgence, Father? Or is it something moreprimal? Don’t pretend you don’t feel it, too.”

A moan from the other side of the wall escaped, calling to me. Dear God, I wanted to run, but the sound of wet suctioning and soft groans coming faster kept me seated.

My breath quickened, and my body heated and grew warmer. My mind screamed for him to stop, to turn away, but something more profound—something buried under years of repression longed to hear more.

Do not engage in this sin.

“I can hear you breaking the wooden ledge, Father.” The man’s voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper now, the words laced with something dark and dangerous. “The way your heart races when I speak. You’ve wanted this. You’ve wanted me. Why not let those strong hands fall to where they really want to be?”

But even as I told myself this, the pull of the voice was undeniable. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out all reason. The heat of my desire rose, clawing at the edges of my control. My hands shook as I fought to deny my impulse. My cock danced in my view, pounding with the blood that clearly wasn’t in my mind.

“Do you want me, Father?” he moaned, this time with a knowing smile, the words heavy and laden with intent.

It was clear his hands were stroking his thickness. I could hear every inch as his fingers slid over and over his soft, beckoning skin again.

I closed my eyes, my chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, my own hands falling to rest on my throbbing cock.

No. No, I mustn’t!

Bracing my hands on the walls beside me, away from the besotted appendage, I tried to settle. But my ears would not stop. They would not shut off the sinful sounds. The other man’s rhythmic breathing, low and deliberate, continued as he masturbated beside me, just a wall away. It only made my pulse race faster.

“Please…” I managed to whisper, my voice trembling, unsure of what I was even asking.

Continue? Or… “Stop.”

But the moaning didn’t stop. Instead, it grew darker and deeper, as if the man knew exactly what I needed, what I craved, and that my control was breaking.

The man’s panted desire mounted, and the slapping sounds increased until I was sure they would peak. But then he sighed, and the sounds stopped altogether.

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