phtlc
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Jun 11, 2009
The Seminary
I had wanted for the better part of my life to be a priest. Even as a child I had felt that lifeâs greatest privilege would be to serve God. The way Father Patrick had led our church for years always astounded me, with how he was always committed every moment of his life to the spiritual needs of the community and had never been too busy to provide one on one mentoring for any parishioner. As a very young child I didnât like going to church, but his influence in my life at that time when my parents were going through marital problems and I was being bullied in school made me feel a tremendous bond with the church, and by about 8 years old I knew what I wanted to be. I had become a choir boy as soon as I could, attending church fanatically and even when my family went on vacation I was adamant that I attend Sunday mass wherever it was that we went.
I was enrolled in St. Andrews Catholic School and was a straight A student who volunteered with the school food drives and every other activity. I planned to be a man of the cloth. I took additional religious studies in private schooling which my parents were willing to pay for. They had never pushed me this way. They were strictly catholic, but certainly did not expect me to become a priest. As a matter of fact they sometimes talked to me and asked if there were any other career options I had considered. I guess they just wanted the best for me but I knew what I wanted. My dad even approached the topic of girls and sex, and seemed a bit almost put off that I was remaining celibate for my calling. He said once that I was not a priest yet and that some dating might not hurt me, but why risk temptation? I had the same urges as any other human being and if I was alone with a girl that I liked I might fall prey to temptation and commit a sin against our heavenly father. If I was to commit my life to the church I couldnât be a hypocrite and sow my wild oats until Seminary school. My friends often joked that it would be a waste when I reached the legal age last week because I would never use my legal permission to âget someâ as they put it.
I had already taken some pre-seminary courses, and was the pride of my church. All the pastors and even the parishioners talked about me saying âVince is going to be a priest at St. Michaels some dayâ, and Father Patrick even let me lead some parts of the sermons, which filled me with pride
I had just delivered some books to the seniorâs home and was passing Ms. Johnson, or Tracy as people called her. She looked at me and shook her head. She was about in her late 30âs or maybe even in her early 40âs, and was a high paid corporate lawyer. My whole life she had questioned my belief in mocking ways. Rumor has it that something happened to her when she was younger that made her develop a fierce hatred for the church. There was some sort of scandal, because she was very young. She used to always provoke me with questions to the effect of âWhy does your god allow â¦â¦ to happenâ, and related questions that were never meant to be answered. She enjoyed trying to make me question my faith, and took pleasure in hitting me with questions to make me doubt my faith. As I grew and remained steadfast in my faith she started getting a bit rude with me at times. I had exacerbated this once by offering an opinion about her that she overheard. She had been involved with two married men from the neighborhood, and had become a bit of a pariah as a result. She also enjoyed wearing very form fitting business suits to show her figure which was admittedly quite toned. Many of the young guys in the neighborhood said they would love to get that MILF whatever that term means. I wasnât about to risk being laughed at by asking. Anyway, one day when friends were commenting on how she always gave me a hard time I commented that she simply resented my holding myself to a higher standard of values and ethics than she did, and that I thought her behavior was cheep. I should have looked around before saying that, as she was standing nearby. I always feared her after that yet I couldnât quite identify why.
As I passed around behind the dance studio using the little path something caught my eye. Looking down to my right I saw that the small window which was painted over in black was ajar. It was one of those rectangular ones at ground level that opened upwards, and I saw why it was painted black; it led to the change room, and at this time a group of ballet dancers were getting changed, oblivious to my presence. They were naked! I had never in my life seen a naked woman before, and the effect of seeing several at once, less than ten feet away from me without a single item of clothing on, immediately took my breath away. I was aroused and could feel my erection pressing against my trousers, as my heart pounded and my breathing accelerated so much I was afraid they would hear it. What I was doing was so wrong. I felt guilt and shame, first at the unbridled lust that was raging through me and for my violation of their privacy. I was not living up to the expectations everyone had of me. I suddenly had a sense that I was being watched and looked around thinking âplease noâ, but saw no-one. I had to go. If Father Patrick were to find out about this he might not sign my endorsement for seminary school and my life would be ruined before it really even began. Everyone who had a high opinion of me would be disappointed and I would lose all the respect I had earned over the years. I would not be invited to participate in church functions.
Shaking nervously, I couldnât bring myself to move even though I knew the best thing I could do was get out of there. Nobody knew what I had just done and nobody wouldâ¦.I just had to leave, but I couldnât. Their bodies were electrifying. Their breasts made me want to reach out and tough them, Iâm ashamed to say. I was captivated by their âbushâ as people call it. I couldnât stop staring and not one of them realized I was watching them. Suddenly one of them bent over facing away from me and I got a view that pushed me over the edge. I saw her vagina. It was tender, and inviting. I was standing there open mouthed, panting almost with my heart about to beat right out of my chest, and my entire body trembling as I stood there mesmerized, unable to tear myself away from this. What really freaked me out was I was feeling some very mild moisture in my boxer shorts. What the devil is that? She was moving her leg over to the left and giving me a better view still unaware, and I stared intently to see more ofâ¦â¦â¦.I was startled by the sound of footsteps behind meâ¦â¦.âoh god noâ â¦.I thoughtâ¦âplease noââ¦â¦â¦â¦
I had wanted for the better part of my life to be a priest. Even as a child I had felt that lifeâs greatest privilege would be to serve God. The way Father Patrick had led our church for years always astounded me, with how he was always committed every moment of his life to the spiritual needs of the community and had never been too busy to provide one on one mentoring for any parishioner. As a very young child I didnât like going to church, but his influence in my life at that time when my parents were going through marital problems and I was being bullied in school made me feel a tremendous bond with the church, and by about 8 years old I knew what I wanted to be. I had become a choir boy as soon as I could, attending church fanatically and even when my family went on vacation I was adamant that I attend Sunday mass wherever it was that we went.
I was enrolled in St. Andrews Catholic School and was a straight A student who volunteered with the school food drives and every other activity. I planned to be a man of the cloth. I took additional religious studies in private schooling which my parents were willing to pay for. They had never pushed me this way. They were strictly catholic, but certainly did not expect me to become a priest. As a matter of fact they sometimes talked to me and asked if there were any other career options I had considered. I guess they just wanted the best for me but I knew what I wanted. My dad even approached the topic of girls and sex, and seemed a bit almost put off that I was remaining celibate for my calling. He said once that I was not a priest yet and that some dating might not hurt me, but why risk temptation? I had the same urges as any other human being and if I was alone with a girl that I liked I might fall prey to temptation and commit a sin against our heavenly father. If I was to commit my life to the church I couldnât be a hypocrite and sow my wild oats until Seminary school. My friends often joked that it would be a waste when I reached the legal age last week because I would never use my legal permission to âget someâ as they put it.
I had already taken some pre-seminary courses, and was the pride of my church. All the pastors and even the parishioners talked about me saying âVince is going to be a priest at St. Michaels some dayâ, and Father Patrick even let me lead some parts of the sermons, which filled me with pride
I had just delivered some books to the seniorâs home and was passing Ms. Johnson, or Tracy as people called her. She looked at me and shook her head. She was about in her late 30âs or maybe even in her early 40âs, and was a high paid corporate lawyer. My whole life she had questioned my belief in mocking ways. Rumor has it that something happened to her when she was younger that made her develop a fierce hatred for the church. There was some sort of scandal, because she was very young. She used to always provoke me with questions to the effect of âWhy does your god allow â¦â¦ to happenâ, and related questions that were never meant to be answered. She enjoyed trying to make me question my faith, and took pleasure in hitting me with questions to make me doubt my faith. As I grew and remained steadfast in my faith she started getting a bit rude with me at times. I had exacerbated this once by offering an opinion about her that she overheard. She had been involved with two married men from the neighborhood, and had become a bit of a pariah as a result. She also enjoyed wearing very form fitting business suits to show her figure which was admittedly quite toned. Many of the young guys in the neighborhood said they would love to get that MILF whatever that term means. I wasnât about to risk being laughed at by asking. Anyway, one day when friends were commenting on how she always gave me a hard time I commented that she simply resented my holding myself to a higher standard of values and ethics than she did, and that I thought her behavior was cheep. I should have looked around before saying that, as she was standing nearby. I always feared her after that yet I couldnât quite identify why.
As I passed around behind the dance studio using the little path something caught my eye. Looking down to my right I saw that the small window which was painted over in black was ajar. It was one of those rectangular ones at ground level that opened upwards, and I saw why it was painted black; it led to the change room, and at this time a group of ballet dancers were getting changed, oblivious to my presence. They were naked! I had never in my life seen a naked woman before, and the effect of seeing several at once, less than ten feet away from me without a single item of clothing on, immediately took my breath away. I was aroused and could feel my erection pressing against my trousers, as my heart pounded and my breathing accelerated so much I was afraid they would hear it. What I was doing was so wrong. I felt guilt and shame, first at the unbridled lust that was raging through me and for my violation of their privacy. I was not living up to the expectations everyone had of me. I suddenly had a sense that I was being watched and looked around thinking âplease noâ, but saw no-one. I had to go. If Father Patrick were to find out about this he might not sign my endorsement for seminary school and my life would be ruined before it really even began. Everyone who had a high opinion of me would be disappointed and I would lose all the respect I had earned over the years. I would not be invited to participate in church functions.
Shaking nervously, I couldnât bring myself to move even though I knew the best thing I could do was get out of there. Nobody knew what I had just done and nobody wouldâ¦.I just had to leave, but I couldnât. Their bodies were electrifying. Their breasts made me want to reach out and tough them, Iâm ashamed to say. I was captivated by their âbushâ as people call it. I couldnât stop staring and not one of them realized I was watching them. Suddenly one of them bent over facing away from me and I got a view that pushed me over the edge. I saw her vagina. It was tender, and inviting. I was standing there open mouthed, panting almost with my heart about to beat right out of my chest, and my entire body trembling as I stood there mesmerized, unable to tear myself away from this. What really freaked me out was I was feeling some very mild moisture in my boxer shorts. What the devil is that? She was moving her leg over to the left and giving me a better view still unaware, and I stared intently to see more ofâ¦â¦â¦.I was startled by the sound of footsteps behind meâ¦â¦.âoh god noâ â¦.I thoughtâ¦âplease noââ¦â¦â¦â¦