An Unfortunate Encounter

After he had bathed, Father Mathew was clean on the outside. Inside, however, he still felt dirty. Normally, the warm water should have relaxed him, but his thoughts would not calm down. They kept circling back to what had happened in the confessional. How could he have let himself go like that? And worse still, he was pretty sure that he would have made an even bigger mistake if it hadn't been for the wall between Erika and him. It didn't matter that she was of age and that the initiative had clearly come from her. He probably wouldn't have to fear any legal consequences, but that was completely irrelevant. What mattered most to him was his salvation. And clearly this was at risk.

The image of the young woman was fixed in his mind's eye. The sounds that had come from the other side of the confessional echoed endlessly in his head. And to his utter annoyance, his body was reacting to these visions in an unseemly way. His mast stood erect again, sticking out of the foamy water. But this time he resisted the temptation to find relief in a deceptively cheap manner. Mathew clenched his hands into fists and hid them behind his back. At some point, this state would end by itself. At least he hoped so. For all he knew, no man could maintain such an erection for long.

He had the idea of taking a cold shower, which made him laugh out loud. This was all so absurd! He almost felt as if he had stumbled into a bad porn novel and was playing the leading role in it. No, he was simply a living, healthy man whose earthly body had certain needs. But he was also a priest and it was his duty to defy this challenge to his oaths. It was a test. Even if he did not understand why he was being subjected to it, he would pass the test. And he would emerge from it stronger and more mature in his faith.

He drained the water, which was slowly cooling down, dried himself and headed towards the bedroom to get dressed. Although he was alone in the house, he wrapped a towel around his hips, then trudged into the hallway on bare soles.

He was surprised to see that the living room door was ajar and a dim light was shining out. The first chords of “Shadows of Yesterday” floated towards him, an old rock ballad played on a lonely acoustic guitar. Then the deep, melancholy bass began to accompany the song, making the heaviness of time palpable. The singer's voice was rough, yet warm, like that of an old friend. It was not a cheerful melody, but also not one that dragged the listener into the darkness. Rather, it had a bittersweet note, as if to say: accept what you have experienced, because it makes you who you are.

It was a song from another era of his life, before he had finally taken the path of faith. Back then, “Shadows of Yesterday” had accompanied him on gloomy days, on nights full of doubt as to whether he was really fit for priesthood. Mathew hadn't even known that he still had the CD on the shelf. He involuntarily turned his steps in the direction from which the sounds were wafting towards him and listened. The verses told of missed opportunities, of dreams that faded into the shadows and of memories that hurt and comforted at the same time. Then came the chorus with powerful drum beats that sounded like a pounding heart:

“In the shadows of yesterday, I find myself lost and found. In the echoes of yesterday, I hear a distant sound.”

He stepped through the door and froze like a pillar of salt when he spotted the visitor. So the strange woman in the church had not been a dream after all. She was sitting in his favorite armchair in the yellowish glow of the old free-standing lamp, her long legs crossed in her tight pencil skirt. Her ample breasts pressed so tightly against the dark red silk blouse that it was obvious she wasn't wearing a brassiere underneath. She had turned her childlike round face towards him. A smile of appreciation stole onto her neatly painted lips as she unabashedly scrutinized him from head to toe until her gaze lingered on his loins.

Mathew became painfully aware that the skimpy towel was in no way sufficient to conceal his towering hard-on. Heat shot up his cheeks and he was pretty sure his head was glowing red with embarrassment. For a moment, he had the impulse to flee. But then he called himself to order. This was his house and he had nothing to be ashamed of. The lady had walked in without being asked and at her own risk, so to speak. She would just have to put up with the fact that he was not prepared to receive guests.

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

His words should have sounded firm and authoritative, but an unmistakable tremor in his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

“The front door wasn't locked,” she explained, “and I really wanted to ask if you'd kept your side of the bargain.”

Mathew was a little confused and had to think about what she meant for a while. Then he remembered that she had claimed that she would alleviate the villagers' hardship if he thought of Erika in return. Erika! His surprise encounter with the stranger had actually made him forget her. Now the memory of her came back with ****. Blood rushed to his cock, which rose even higher and straighter. Mathew wondered if there was enough body fluid left in his veins to make him blush deeper.

The uninvited visitor stood up, grinned and stalked towards him on her elegant, high-heels. Although she was not a threatening presence, Mathew was overcome with a vague fear. It took all his willpower not to back away from her. She stopped a mere hand's reach in front of him. She was a good deal shorter than him and had to tilt her head back, allowing her long, black curls to flow down her back. She pushed her pelvis forward a tiny bit and inevitably bumped into his most prominent body part.

“It seems I don't even have to ask. I can see that you've been good and done what I wanted.”

With a grin, she stretched out her arm and pushed the towel aside. Mathew stood still as if spellbound. What was she up to? Part of him wished that she would free him from his misfortune. It would probably be highly inappropriate if he allowed her to satisfy him. But perhaps this would dispel the unwanted visions and steer his unfortunate obsession with Erika in a different direction. Breathless, he waited to feel her hand on his noblest part, which was throbbing feverishly.

He gasped in surprise when she grabbed his testicles. She exerted just enough **** to make it hurt, but it was still bearable. Thick, clear pleasure drops oozed from his glans as if the pressure was driving them out.

Mathew looked down at the woman pleadingly. She returned his gaze unmoved. Her mouth flashed a predatory smile.

“Do you want more?”

He wanted to shake his head, but could do no more than stare at her silently. His knees trembled and sweat broke out all over his body.