Occasions of Sin
6.

Copyright© 2018 by Jacqueline Jillinghoff

Erotica Sex Story: 6. - Cindy is an innocent Catholic girl who discovers the pleasures of her body one day after school. She worries her immortal soul is in peril, but she soon learns she's not the only sinner in the world. Or, as one reader described it, "Just really nice, crazy, horny, cum-crazed teen boys and girls answering nature's call to feel good."

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Ma/ft   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Teenagers   Reluctant   Lesbian   CrossDressing   School   Light Bond   Spanking   Anal Sex   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Squirting   Clergy   Foot Fetish   Teacher/Student  

I liked Lisa. I wanted to fool around with her more, and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. But I couldn’t love her like boyfriend-girlfriend. No, that’s not completely honest. I could love her, and I did, kind of ― OK, more than kind of ― but the truth is, as creepy as the thing with Father Ransom was, it also made me curious about penises. It freaked me out when he went off in my mouth, but I couldn’t get the sight of his hard cock out of my mind, or the feel of it off my tongue. I kept wondering, what would it be like to have the whole thing in my pussy, going deep, fucking me, like Dr. Judith I. Weisberg said? I mean, that’s what God made it for.

Which brings me to Eddie.

Like I said before, he was the smartest boy in class, and this year the other kids have started picking on him. One day he came in with a new pair of shoes that had buckles instead of laces. The kids called them “Pilgrim shoes” and wouldn’t let him alone. It was just teasing, but I could tell he got sick of it fast. His last name is Szywicki, which of course they turned into Shitsky. Then, in March, he got knocked down in the schoolyard. I didn’t see what happened. All I saw was his glasses flying over the concrete, but he and like four other boys had to stay late after school while Mother Regina grilled them about it. After that, they really had it in for him. One of them would always be hanging around him outside after lunch, and whenever Sister Margaret turned her back, they punched him. Everybody saw it, but nobody said anything. He kept more and more to himself, but he also started showing off more in class, arguing with everybody, telling them they were wrong, no matter what the topic was. I think it was all he had to make himself feel better.

That’s what got him in trouble with Sister Margaret, and, with one thing leading to another, it’s what got me my first fuck.

Sister was talking about Purgatory, and explaining how, when we pray, the souls are released, or at least they get time off. Then she said something I never heard before ― that it works the opposite way. When we sin, the souls in Purgatory suffer more.

Without even raising his hand, Eddie said, loud enough so we all heard, “So you’re saying God takes hostages?”

It got so quiet you could hear water change to wine. Then Sister Margaret said, so calmly it chilled me, “How about you stay after class this afternoon?”

It wasn’t the first time for him, but it was for me. I got caught daydreaming. I was thinking about going home with Lisa after school that day, taking off our clothes, and wobbling her tits in my hands, and an idea I had, where we would curl up and licked each other’s pussies at the same time. And while I was thinking, I doodled absent-mindedly in my assignment notebook ― two circles with dots in the middle and a triangle underneath filled with tiny Palmer-method ovals. I don’t draw too well, but with a little imagination you could tell what I was getting at.

I didn’t hear Sister call my name. I didn’t see her walk up the aisle. I didn’t see anything until her long white fingers snatched the notebook from under my pen. That got my attention. All the kids were looking at me ― because they’d seen it coming. Sister studied my crude drawing for what seemed like an hour. I prayed she wouldn’t get it, but I could see in her face the moment the penny dropped. She tore the page out of the notebook

“You may stay after school as well,” she said. “I’ll hold on to this.”

Eddie and I were the only ones kept after, which made it a light day for discipline, by Sister Margaret’s standards. After the lines were called, and the kids all left, and Lisa touched my shoulder and gave me a sad look on her way out, Eddie and I sat at our desks for like half an hour, waiting for the ax to fall.

Sister went off to do something. They always do. They like to make you sweat. When she came back, I was expecting another foot session or something, but nothing like that happened. She seemed really angry. Eddie had made a fool of her, and I guess drawing nudies meant I wasn’t her little angel after all. It showed I could think dirty thoughts, and she liked her angels pure.

“Come with me,” she said.

We followed her outside and across the schoolyard to the convent. It was the first time I’d ever been inside. A couple of the nuns were in the kitchen when we passed, and two more in a sitting room along the hall. At the end of the hall was a little chapel. We went in, and sister told us to kneel in the front pew. She led us through the Act of Contrition, an Our Father, and five Hail Marys. Then she told us to pray silently. We went on kneeling for a long time.

That was it. Sister took us back outside and gave us a talking to before she let us go.

“Your parents would disown you,” she said. “You for blasphemy and arguing with a nun, and you for the shameful things you were thinking ― a girl your age. I know they raised you both better than this. I would disown you, too, but my job is to correct and forgive. But believe you me, if either one of you ever does anything close to what you did today, I’ll see to it you never set foot in this school again, and I don’t care how close to graduation you are. Is that understood?”

We said “Yes, Sister” in unison.

“Now get home.”

Eddie and I walked off together. He waited until we were across the street, and the convent was out of slight, before he said, “I wonder if we got anybody out of Purgatory when we were praying in there. Or maybe because we sinned first, it cancelled itself out.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so he went on.

“What shameful thing were you thinking?”

“Nothing,” I said. “I was just doodling.”

“It must have been really bad.”

“I don’t feel like talking about it.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I can’t wait to get out of this place.”

“It’s only another couple of weeks.”

“Almost a month. Final exams. Then you sit around and do nothing for a week. Will you miss it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think about it. I’m just scared of finals.”

“What for? You do OK. You know, there is no permanent record. They just say that to keep you in line.”

“Really?”

“What, you think when you go for a job in twenty years, they’re going to call Sister Margaret and ask if you ever had detention?”

We talked like that, not saying much, until we crossed the avenue. I had to turn off toward the library. Eddie said he had to go on straight. He lived down toward the end of the parish. But we stood there on the corner, chatting, neither of us wanting to go. I thought about Lisa, but I didn’t know what time it was, or if she’d forgotten about me, and I didn’t feel like being alone.

“I have soda at my house,” I said. “Would you like some?”

“That would be nice. Thank you.”

“It’s kind of far.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Carry your books?”

He looked weighed down with his and mine, but it didn’t seem to other him.

“You’re always polite,” I said as we were walking. “You don’t talk like the other boys.”

“I can’t believe them sometimes,” he said. “I heard Peter McLafferty tell the dirtiest story. I mean filthy. I didn’t even understand it.”

“His dad owns a bar.”

“That must where he hears them. They say you’re not supposed to tell those jokes. You’re not even supposed to listen to them.”

“It’s an occasion of sin.”

“Exactly. It’s like you try, but there’s always something, and you can’t get away from it.”

We walked around the corner to my house. It wasn’t as late as I thought it was. I called Lisa two or three times to tell her I was home, but the line was busy. I poured Eddie and me each a glass of ginger ale, and we sat on the sofa in the living room. I took off my shoes, and he took off his school blazer and tie, which were the same dark blue as the girls’ uniforms. The blazer had the same red “A” over the pocket that we have over our left tit. Eddie unbuttoned his shirt collar.

“When we graduate, I’m going to soak this tie in gasoline and burn it,” he said.

I don’t know how we got into it, but I mentioned at one point my mom didn’t let me wear makeup yet.

That’s when things started getting naughty.

“I like makeup on girls,” Eddie said. “But not too much. The first time my sister tried it, she put too much blue on her eyes.”

“Eye shadow,” I said.

“Yeah. My dad kept asking who hit her. I wonder what it’s like sometimes. I’m thinking about majoring in theater in college. You have to wear makeup on stage.”

We sort of looked at each other.

“What?” he said.

“You want to try?”

“Try what? — Oh.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“If you tell anybody, I’m dead meat.”

“I won’t. I swear.”

“Promise?”

“Sure.

“I mean promise.

“Yes!”

“OK then.”

We went upstairs, and while he waited in my room, I went into the bathroom came back with mom’s compact, a tube of her lipstick, a small bottle of blush, and a swab. Eddie was sitting on the edge of my bed.

The lipstick was peach.

“This’ll look good on you,” I said, like I knew. “Here. Pooch your lips out like you’re going to kiss me.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I’ve seen mom do it. Now work your lips like this, and rub it around. — Wow.”

It really did something for him. He has a delicate jaw and big brown eyes. That spot of peach practically turned him into a girl. Even his glasses could be feminine. They’re round, with wire rims, like John Lennon wears.

“You look good,” I said. “How does it feel?”

“Waxy.”

“You’re prettier than I am.”

I did his cheeks, adding some powder from mom’s compact and swabbing on some rouge, which brought out his cheekbones.

“We have to do something about your hair,” I said.

He had it parted on the side and combed back, like most guys in class. I got out a brush and started messing with it. It’s very fine, and dirty blonde, and it didn’t take much imagination to sweep it across his forehead.

“Much better,” I said.

He was looking at himself sideways in my dresser mirror, touching his face and moving his lips. He didn’t say anything, but when he placed his hands on his chest, I could guess what he was thinking.

 
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