Page 23 of Forgive Me, Father

I open my Bible, the pages falling open naturally to the section I’ve marked. The Song of Songs is a short book, only taking up a few pages. I look up at Olivia again, unable to stopmyself. Her cheeks are the sweetest shade of pink, her eyes bright. I can see her pulse jumping in her throat, the rise and fall of her chest. I know she’s thinking about us, about the love, desire, and intimacy we shared just a couple of days ago in that hotel suite.

“Let’s begin,” I say, my voice calm despite the emotions tangling together in my chest. “It may shock you to learn that scripture can be surprisingly sexy. The Song of Songs isn’t spiritual, but it is sacred. It’s a poem about lovemaking, oral sex, yearning and searching, and hiding and finding, all between two unmarried people known as the Beloved and the Lover.

“I have to admit, I’ve never preached from the Song of Songs in my eleven years as a priest. People generally don’t come to mass to hear about oral sex.” There’s a round of laughter, and I can tell that while they’re surprised, they’re also interested in what I have to say. I glance at Olivia and she’s staring at me, rapt, lips slightly parted. “Preaching a book that doesn’t mention God at all is complicated. But just because God isn’t mentioned doesn’t mean he’s absent. As we know, God is never absent. His presence can always be felt, and taking the time to appreciate the joyous and beautiful gifts he’s given us, such as love, such as sex, can bring us closer to Him.”

I shift back in my chair. “Now, in an effort to make sense of this secular, erotic poem having a place in the Bible, some scholars believe it’s really an analogy. That the passion of these two people symbolizes the love God has for us, or the love Christ has for the Church. The latter is particularly dubious given that this book is in the Old Testament, and pre-dates Christ by some time.”

“So then why was it included?” asks Mary Ciccone, an older lady with a bun on top of her head and glasses pinching her nose.

I shrug. “I don’t have a definitive answer for that. Most scholars agree that the Song of Songs is a secular love poem and its inclusion is a mystery. Would you like to know my theory?”

Everyone nods. Olivia leans forward in her seat, her ponytail falling over her shoulder. My gorgeous, brave, selfless girl.

“Perhaps it was included because such a joyous celebration of love and sexuality is a sacred, religious experience. The fact that a book that revels in delightful, unbridled sexuality is included in the Bible is worth paying attention to. Also of note is the fact that it’s included among the wisdom books. The book of Job discusses suffering and God’s justice. Proverbs gives us practical advice and insight on how to live a good life. Ecclesiastes examines the meaning of life. Psalms is a reflection on life and faith and how the two are intertwined. And the Song of Songs explores themes of love and intimacy. Let’s read what’s here, and then we’ll discuss.”

Everyone opens their Bibles to the small book they’ve probably never read before, and I begin reading.

“Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth—for your love is more delightful than wine…” I keep reading, only lifting my eyes from the page to glance up at Olivia. Her Bible is open on her lap, but she’s looking at me, eyes bright, cheeks pink. I keep reading. “Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest is my lover among the young men. I delight to sit in his shade, and his fruit is sweet to my taste.” Olivia licks her lips and my balls throb in response. I continue, reading every single passage.

“Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon; your mouth is lovely…All beautiful you are my darling; there is no flaw in you…How much more pleasing is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume than any spice! Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, my bride; milk and honey are under your tongue…I am my lover’s and my lover is mine…I belong to my lover and his desire is for me.”

I’m reading the words aloud to the entire group, but in my heart, I’m reading them only to Olivia. My girl. My future wife.

My everything.

Eleven

Gabriel

The last of the Bible study group leaves, and Olivia and I see them out, watching as the heavy, wooden door swings closed behind the final person. They all think that Olivia’s staying behind to help me clean up.

She’s not.

I’ll clean up after I’ve made her come at least once, preferably multiple times.

I reach out and slide the lock into place, closing the church to the public. We’re alone, the cavernous sanctuary still glowing with candles before us. I turn, and I find Olivia standing several feet away, in the middle of the center aisle, fingers curling into the skirt of her dress. The flickering candlelight paints her skin in a play of golden light and shadow, and I take several long strides towards her.

“Gabe,” she whispers, and I swear I can feel my heart swelling in my chest at the sound of it. “I need you.”

I need her, too, and I don’t hesitate. It takes less than a second for me to close the distance between us and crush mymouth to hers, kissing her hot and deep. I slide my hands down to her ass and walk her down one of the pews, stopping when her back hits an ornate column. She moans into my mouth as I caress her tongue with mine, my hand sliding up under her skirt. I groan when I realize she’s completely bare under her dress, my fingers finding nothing but skin.

“Oh, fuck,” I pant against her mouth. “I’m glad I didn’t know you weren’t wearing panties under here earlier. I wouldn’t have been able to control myself if I’d known that this sweet little cunt was right there, under this thin bit of fabric,” I say, sliding the skirt of her dress higher. “The prettiest temptation. My only salvation.” I kiss her neck, nipping at her earlobe. She whimpers and arches into me, her bare pussy rubbing against the ridge in my pants.

“I couldn’t stop staring at you,” she says, threading her hands into my hair as I kiss her neck and rub my covered cock against her. “I couldn’t stop marveling at the fact that you’re mine. At what you’re sacrificing for me.”

“It doesn’t feel like a sacrifice,” I say, lifting my head. I kiss her again, gentler than before. “I know you’re worried I’ll regret this, but I already know I won’t. You’re my future, angel. With you is where I’m meant to be. I love you. I’ve loved you for a year now, and I’m going to love you for the rest of my life. Being with you isn’t a sacrifice. It’s a gift. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m trying to misbehave here.”

She laughs, the sound warm and light as it echoes off the soaring walls. She tugs on my hair, pulling my mouth back to hers, sighing as I slip my tongue into her mouth.

“What were you thinking when you couldn’t stop staring at me?” I ask after several breathless moments.

She pulls back, her gray eyes dark and glittering. “That I want you to fuck me, right here in this church while I call you FatherThorne.” She leans in, kissing along my jaw. “That I love you, Daddy.”

I groan and nip at her lips. “Such a dirty, horny little thing.” I sigh and kiss her again. “I love you too, angel.” I set her down and take her hand, filthy plans unfolding in my mind as I remember what she said earlier in the church kitchen.

I lead her through the familiar shadows of the church, my plans formed. It’s amazing how something can look so familiar yet so foreign at the same time, and I know it’s because I don’t belong here anymore. This church used to be home, and I don’t regret the years I spent here.

But I have a new home now.

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