Father Mallory's School Girl

Father Mallory closed his eyes to escape the trigonometry papers he was grading. He stretched his neck out the window. He watched the students leaving campus for the day. It was a late October afternoon. Even though the foliage was on the decline, the temperature was in the mid-60s. He watched some of the girls roll their knee length skirts up to their upper thigh, at the same time unbuttoning the white seashell buttons on their dress shirts, doing their best to reveal cleavage. Some lit cigarettes and kissed their boyfriends on the mouth. Father Mallory smiled to himself. No matter what school or parish he was teaching, teenage girls were always the same. He arched his neck hoping to see someone in particular. Tess Beign. She walked alone with her school uniform still intact and abiding to the dress code. Putting one brown penny loafer in front of the other, she shuffled across the sidewalk beneath Father Mallory's window. She gripped her school books so closely to her chest that the tops of her breast bounced up and down in an untamed counterclockwise motion.

Tess Beign was a student in Father Mallory's calculus class at Trinity High School. She had just turned eighteen. She was also the worst temptation he had ever resisted in his pious life. She caused a moral warfare between Father Mallory's soul and loins. She was undoubtedly beautiful with long chestnut brown hair that complemented her moon pale white skin. She also had enormously large brown doe eyes, surrounded by long naturally tinted purple eyelashes. Her lips were large and full, but peculiar in the sense that they lacked any pinkish tint. She was average height, maybe 5' 6". Her arms and legs were skinny. From what Father Mallory could tell, she didn't have much of an ass or hips either, but her breasts were massive. She reminded him of a frail rabbit with huge heaving breasts.

She wasn't the first attractive girl or woman that Father Mallory encountered. But something about her put him in a sexual frenzy. Maybe it was her personality. She was sweet. She was a good student. She laughed at his jokes. She appeared naïve mixed with an unrefined aloofness surrounding her own sexuality and physical perfection. Her background was tragic. Her mother died in childbirth. Her elderly grandparents saved her from a life of poverty with her alcoholic father. She had lived with them since she was an infant. But again, just like she wasn't the only attractive girl Father Mallory encountered, she wasn't the only pitiful soul either.

No list of personal attributes, any large rack, clear complexion, or whiteness of teeth could tangibly rationalize Father Mallory's overwhelming desire for Tess. Her presence afflicted all of his body systems. His stomach filled with gastric juices. His voice would choke and hide, seeking refuge below his larynx. His heart pounded like a turbine. His whole nervous system was ionized like the air before an electrical storm. Beads of sweat poured down his neck. His skin wished to be on top of hers. And lastly, his manhood, which betrayed him worst of all. His loins wished to explore her body with a conviction that would match Marco Polo or Christopher Columbus.

Her body was the ultimate gold mine. His penis was constantly flowing with blood when she was around. He was always hard for her. He found himself starring at her while he lectured class completely in awe of her beauty. He lost his train of thought as his penis shot electric volts all through him. His eyes coveted her in class, wishing for eye contact, praying for a nude lipped smile and pleading for a bra outline.

Father Mallory watched out the window until he could no longer see her insight. He looked down at his stack of papers to grade. He concentrated on the hand drawn triangles, trying to stop the stirring in his pants. He was swollen for her. He took a sip of his coffee and gathered his papers to go home.

She frequented his nights when he slept on his cold cotton sheets. His mind reeled over a spotted thin bra strap. A glazed over look in her big eyes. A pencil eraser top perched between her wet lips. He captured the images, filing them away in his cerebrum. His imagination would eventually take over to create lurid sexual trysts between them. His mind would focus on the triangular outline of her conservative bra hidden beneath her shirt. He imagined how he would slowly run his fingers over the bra. He imagined her reaction.

She would want him to continue touching her. He was happily to oblige as she would moan. He would eventually remover her shirt and bra. Her breasts would be exposed to the harsh lighting of the classroom before his hands would rush in to protect them, smothering them in his large hands. He would feel her nipples hard and yearning, wishing for his mouth. After engulfing them in his mouth, she would be automatically overcome with the need to taste his cock.

She would deliver the best intensity she could offer. Although she could suck him off easily at her desk, she would wish to be on her knees in front of him. It wasn't just a position of his power. She was showing him her role as a Catholic child. Her bony knees would be cold against the post war made linoleum tiles. Amazed and a little scared by the bulge of his pants. She enjoyed the heat that was permeating from it. She would reach for his pants, fumbling with the zipper, determined yet inexperienced. She would run her tiny hands over his hard piece for a slight second before the need for his salty cock to be in her mouth. She would enjoy the taste and after the initial exploration, with his held she would find a nice repetitive motion with her tongue over his tip as the moist fat sides of her mouth would capture the rest of his cock as he would thrust from her lips to the back of her scratchy throat.

He would run his long masculine hands over his dick, jacking himself in the dark as the fantasy played out in his mind until he spent. The touch of his warm cum on his hand depressed him. His mind would wander into the lowest, darkest caves of his psyche as guilt and remorse for his desire took over his brain.

He was in his mid-forties and quite attractive. He had a full head of brown wavy hair. He couldn't remember a time period when he wasn't compared to Robert Downey Jr in his looks. He agreed he had similar shaped eyes and the exact lips. He never made moves on women even though he was often sought after by young and old women alike. He had even had a few high school girls come on to him.

In his fifteen years of being a priest, Father Mallory had given into temptation once. He had been in his late twenties. She was a single mother in her early twenties. She had been pretty and nice. She was desperate to seduce him. He had drunk too much at a Labor day BBQ. They slept together once. He felt so terrible, he was determined to never let anything like that happen again. He hadn't even been overly attracted to her. He had stayed pious since with an ease he had taken advantage of until September when he called out for Tess on the class roll call.

**********************************************************************************

Father Mallory stood in for confession Friday morning. He usually didn't have to give confession but Father O'Mara had a stomach virus. He sat through twenty some confessions, the normal yawn inducing teenage shit. He gave Hail Mary's for the usual -- underage drinking, masturbation, premarital sex, lying, and smoking. He was working on a crossword puzzle when he heard the soft familiar monotone voice.

"Father, it has been a week since my last confession."

He perked up in his seat. "What is it you want to confess, my child?"

"Well father, I have had thoughts about boys and sometimes I think about what it would be kissed. You know, on the lips."

"Yes?" He asked softly enquiring details.

"Yes, I mean I don't know. My grandparents would say it is wrong." she hesitated to clarify her words "They would be horrified to know I think about sex at all." She hesitated with embarrassment. "I want to spend time with cute boys just like any other teenage girl here at Trinity. I don't even want the backseat romp that all the other girls talk about. But I do want to kiss a boy just to see how it feels, Father. "

Father Mallory was taken aback by Tess's honesty and earnest want for affection. "Well, my child," he said shifting in his seat, "I think that is actually normal. God wants you to be curious so that you go on to find a husband and find love and make children, it is perfectly normal and there are a lot worse things than wanting to kiss a boy. He hesitated.

"Father Mallory..." she started boldly and then was overcome by shyness. He felt an opportunity and encouraged her to continue.

"I don't know how to say it...I notice how you look at me in class. And I like it. I like that you seem to be attracted to me. I don't know if you are. I think you are. I hope you are?" She said losing her nerve with every word that came from her mouth.

Father Mallory abandoned every constitution in his being for this chance. "I am very attracted to you. In fact, you don't know how attracted to you I am. My life has been devoted to God and the church and his followers. You cause me quite a lot of self-doubt and trouble. Not trouble. .." He whispered. He hoped he didn't scare her away when he was so close to having her. "You just make me self-reflect on decisions and ideas I hold in general."

"Sometimes I think about kissing you." She blurted. "A lot of times."

He breathed out loudly, years of suppression escaping his lungs. "Kissing your lips is what I want most for than anything in the world."

"Father, I am sorry I make you feel that way. But I am glad. Should I do anything?" She asked ready for her repentance.

"No, just know that when I look at you. I always want to kiss you."

"I want to kiss you so much. Goodbye Father Mallory. I should go now."

"Wait, my child." Father Mallory was taking his chance, toying with his power as a priest, breaking all the rules now. "Meet me back here at 11. Say you will show up. Let me kiss you."

"I have a free period then, so yes Father. I will meet you even though I shouldn't?" She asked looking for guidance.

"You most certainly should."

The chapel was empty now. They were two small people encompassed in the ornate décor. He was excited to have her alone. She was a small rodent in his steel trap. He led her to sit in a back pew he had studied and determined to be out of view by passerbyers.

"Tess, you are a very promising girl. You work hard and are smart; you have your whole future ahead of you." Part of him was trying to talk one of them out of what they were about to do the devil in him was using it as bait to weaken her.

She smiled up at him, eager for the praise. He shifted his body closer to hers. He legs locked around the outside of hers now. His knees trapped her legs in between his. Boldly, he brushed the hair from her face, grazing her forehead with his hand. He felt a jolt rush through his body as he touched her. She kept her eyes on him the entire time, studying his moves. She tried to determine her footing and what power she held in the situation. The air between them was a charged electrical storm. Their bodies were helpless lightning rods; waiting for the very second they would be struck.

He cusped her silky cheek in his palm. She smiled reassuring, and pressed not only her cheek but her whole body against him. Mallory took this as a yielding sign. He slid his fingers down to the nape of her neck, softly and deliberately so every finger print groove pushed the surface of her skin. She was drowning in a stagnant pool of contentment.

His voice was husky now as he asked her... "You know, Tessa, I would be most honored if I could be your first kiss."

Tessa, overcome with bashfulness, fixed her eyes on the wooden planks of the floor to hide her blushing cheeks. He bent his face in towards her, gently pushing his lips against hers. She tasted better than he imagined she would. Cherry Chap Stick in a mosaic of her natural salts. His dick was hard but he was trying to hide it from her. His lips grazed hers harder, which then he encompassed them in his, pushing a little forcefully so that she would open her mouth. She did. His lips worked harder to get her to open her mouth wider and let him slip his tongue inside. When his tongue found hers, he loved how her sweet young fleshy mouth oils tasted on his. Their tongues danced awkwardly before he took the lead, showing her how to kiss passionately.

She broke the kiss. He asked her how she enjoyed it and if she wanted to continue. She was breathless. Yes she nodded and reached for him. As they kissed again, he began to run his hand over the front of her neck. Grazing it softly, he began to push down to her collar bone. He ran his fingers over her boney collar, touching the starchy white linen of her shirt. She moaned in excitement of her first make out session while his mind plotted ahead.

Kissing was the appetizer and he suddenly developed an enormous appetite for the full course. He started to test the waters by teasing the collar of her shirt, pushing it down before trying to unbutton her first button. She startled and jumped back.

"Shh" he whispered pulling her closer to his body, "Come here."

He pulled her closer, kissed her hard, adding heat to her her desires. His body pressed against her as his hands coyly tried to unbutton her shirt again. Her heart pounded in her ears. She hadn't been undressed by anyone else other than her grandma and that had been a long time ago.

He unbuttoned two before he felt the fatty beginnings of her cleavage. He gently caressed that skin, using his finger tips to draw figure eights on her skin, testing her accessibility before letting each figure eight drop a littler lower down her shirt until he felt her satin bra. He broke the kiss on the mouth.

He whispered in her ear "you are delicious and I am a weak man for you." He felt weaker than ever but also hell-bent on continuing. He became more dominant. He bit down on her earlobe. He made his way down her neck with kisses, a mix of soft delicate ones interwoven with hard forceful ones, almost soft bites, until he reached her neck. She was squirming with desire. He suckled on her soft neck that smelled like teenage excitement and lavender soap. He let his index and thumb slip under her bra, finding her nipple. It was hard and aching for him. The large nipple was ripped and rough against his thumb. She released an involuntary moan. Her body was losing control.

Overcome by it all he felt himself push down on her, forcing her to lay down on the pew. Pushing on her with pressure and another kiss to the lips, animal instinct and years of suppressed sexuality now had him on top of his student. He pulled at her shirt and bra up so he could finally see the breasts he had imagined so often. He fought her pearl buttons. He put a rough hand to her bra, pulling it up instead of undoing it.

Her body was strikingly similar to every detail that he had overly fantasized. Her areolas were huge and bright pink, almost magenta in color. Her nipples were overly puffy and he delighted in the anticipation to devour them. Those rough nipples arched out, screaming for his attention, for his mouth to suckle. Before she could contest, his hands were on her breasts which were little more than a handful. He ran his fingers softly over the nipples before tweaking them between his thumb and index. He put his mouth to her breast bone running his tongue up and down. He teased her, refusing to allow his tongue to lap her breasts as she arched them towards his mouth. She wanted him to put her breast in his mouth; she was begging.

Her senses were heightened. She could smell his hair, the old spice on his neck, and the sweat from his shirt. She felt the heat of his excitement in his breath. She could feel the jolting tension in his hands when he was on top of her on that pew. The velvet was soft under her bare skin. He was heavy on top of her. It was a heaviness she enjoyed; she liked being pinned down by him. She could feel his outline of his hardness against her thigh.

He licked around her pink areolas, teasing her before he latched on to her erect nipples. She liked the way her breasts felt in his mouth, the wetness, the warmth, the cold air rejection when he removed his tongue to another part of her skin. She moaned louder and louder. Her excitement fed his ego and his lust.

"Do you like this, darling?" He asked. "Because I do. I could do this all day."

She reached out for his hair with a primitive pull.

"I wish God would stop me from wanting to keep kissing you so much, but I don't think he is. I don't mind being so devilish with such a girl. Such an angel" he said as he ate up half of her tiny breast in his mouth as he shot her a boyish smile.

She was getting extremely wet and warm; it was a frustrating friction she wasn't quite sure what to do with. She began to grind against his hot hard cock outline in his black pants. She pushed against him pushing her ass up from the pew in a back and forth motion. She had only done it about six times when Father Mallory noticed that she was purposely trying to tease his cock. He smiled up at her.

"Can you believe how much I like you? Can you believe just kissing your beautiful face, even just looking at your beautiful face makes me this stiff?" he asked her as he pushed down on her pelvis with his whenever she pushed her ass up to grind on him.

He reached up and kissed her lips as he continued to push against her pelvis. He arched himself up on the pew, sitting up. She was worried he was letting her go, cruelly winding her up and then letting her go back to class, wet and excited. She didn't have to worry long; he propped himself and placed her legs on his lap. She laid there, sprawled out with her shirt unbuttoned, breasts exposed to the tall cathedral ceilings with her hair drawn out over the pew seat like an angel in infinity. Her legs were propped up on his lap, lying right on his member. Her wool knee highs had drooped down to her ankles while her brown and red wool skirt was slit up to her upper thigh.

She looked up at him with those doe eyes as his eyes gazed over her body with lustful need to ravish her. He met her watching eyes again as he took his index finger and ran it on her skin from the top of her knee to the hem of her skirt. When his finger brushed up against the wool, he would slide it softly back down to her knee and then push it back up, higher up, pushing further than the hemline. Each time he would run his hand a little further up her leg, until he reached the V where her panties were. He could feel the cotton soaked against his finger. He placed both hands on her lips and spread her legs open on the pew.

"I can't help but tell you it feels a bit like Christmas morning for a child right now. I can't wait to get my hands in your pussy. Would you let me feel you?" He asked, already knowing the answer but demanding her response.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, she almost cried out "I want you to touch me."

"Touch your what?"

" Touch my pussy" she demanded.

"So you want me to touch your pussy?"

"Yes" she cried.

"How much?" he said as he playfully gazed over the white cotton panties.

"A lot. More than anything I have ever wanted." She cried.

At her response, he ripped the little panties over one labia with force. Her tiny vagina was exposed to him. He ran his fingertips over her little fat lips. Her pussy was hairy, which he liked. She was not too hairy, just enough to seem like overrun ruins in the amazon. An abandoned religious temple. Her pussy was a site for his eyes and his adventures only. He slipped his hands over her mound and played around the outside of her lips. He massaged her lips before sticking a fingertip in the soaked opening exposing a tight virgin vagina hole.