'But I saw you. Remember the day I left my hanky in your office, the one my nanna embroidered specially? Iwent back to get it, but I didn't know if you were there so I just opened the door a crack. You were standing by the window with the blinds closed. You had your cassock pulled up in front and your, your thing was in your hand. I couldn't believe how big and hard it was. I couldn't look away. It seemed so strange and beautiful - the way it moved, the way the veins wound around it, all blue and strong.'
I took one step closer to the desk. He stared at me with a mixture of fear and fascination, his mouth slack, his flush extending from clerical collar to hairline. He knew his future was on the line, and only I knew I'd never, ever hurt him - even if it meant abandoning all my dreams.
'You rubbed it with my hanky,' I said. 'You had my nanna's hanky in your hand and you rubbed it up and down your thing. The big knob at the end looked so red I thought it must hurt, but you were humming the way I do when they serve chocolate for dessert, so I thought you must like it.'
I did like it,' he whispered, a man in a dream.
'I thought so.' I leant on the edge of his blotter. Sweat glistened on his forehead and upper lip. My nostrils flared. Vocation or no, he could not quell the most primitive evidence of his maleness. I drank his scent in quick, shallow breaths. It dizzied me. My voice darkened. 'You'd been rubbing so long, I think you'd polished it,’ I said. "The part on the top was shiny. It looked so smooth, I wished I could put it in my mouth and suck it. Just as I was thinking that, you moaned my name and started rubbing faster. It made me feel all squirmy inside. "Kate," you said. "Katie, Katie, Kate." On the last "Kate" you made a face as if you were going to scream, but nothing came out - except down below, from the tip of your thing, a spurt of, of seed came jetting out. It made a noise when it hit the blinds. I guess you didn't want to make a mess because you shoved my hanky over the end. There must have been a lot, though, because some dribbled on the floor.
'I wanted to touch the little puddle. I'd never seen a man's seed before. I wondered what it felt like. Was it creamy or sticky? Was it still warm, and how would it taste? Things like that make me curious. I can't rest until I find out.'
Sean gasped like a fish out of water, too breathless to respond.
A little weak-kneed myself, I sat on the corner of his desk and hugged my waist. 'I got the idea to touch myself from you. You liked it so much I thought I would, too. I guess you know a girl's thing is really little, but it's between my legs right where yours is and it gets wet and slippery when I play with it. It feels good, but I've never felt what you seemed to be feeling. Beth was like I was, but Ellen was like you. Beth played with her breasts while I rubbed her thingie. It made these loud squishy noises. She got so excited at the end we had to put the pillow over her mouth so she wouldn't wake the others.'
Sean covered his face.
'I know priests aren't supposed to do it,' I continued. 'In fact, I know I'm not supposed to, either. But since I've already decided I'm going to, I may as well learn to do it right. I hoped you'd tell me what I'm doing wrong. There isn't anyone else I trust enough to ask.' Sean muttered something I couldn't hear. 'What?' I said.
He lifted his head. His lips were pressed together, the flesh around them pale. 'You're too curious for your own good.' His heavy-lidded gaze dropped to my breasts, long enough for me to be certain about it. 'And too grown up for your age. You tempt me just as you tempted Beth and Ellen - with your beauty and your spirit. You make everyone you meet long to possess you. I understand why you enjoy it, Katie, but it's a dangerous game.'
'I didn't mean to hurt anyone, Father. I only wondered -' 'Hush,' he said.
'But I love you, Father. I would never -' 'Hush,’ he repeated. He showed no awareness that I'd just spilt my deepest secret. He steepled his hands before his mouth. They were shaking.
I waited for him to collect himself. After a few deep breaths, he rolled his chair back until it hit the wall. He smoothed the black robe over his knees. The gesture drew my attention to his tented crotch. A small damp spot told me he must be naked under the cloth.
My sex fluttered with longing. Waiting for him to play out the drama took all my self-control. I almost wished he'd made this more of a caricature. I could feel the young priest's torment. I wanted him as much as if I truly were his backsliding pet.
'Come here,' he said, in a low, quavering tone. 'I think you need correction.'
'I do,’ I agreed and circled the desk to his side. 'Shall you beat it out of me, Father?' 'Is that what you want, Katie?'
The look we exchanged was eerily intimate. He seemed to see straight into my soul, or my character's soul. We recognised each other. Our desires were equally dark, our hopes equally tremulous. We were birds of a feather - whether we liked it or not.
'I believe I need it,’ I said. 'I believe it would do me good.'
What I really meant was: I know this is the only bridge you'll let me cross to get close to you.