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Joan tentatively rang the doorbell of the rectory. She tried her best to display a neutral expression on her face. However, she was feeling extremely jittery after what had happened in the confessional that afternoon.

Having assumed that it was crotchety old Father O’Connor sitting in the priest’s compartment, Joan had talked about sexual fantasies and masturbation. And – in the hopes of getting fired from her after-school job at the rectory – Joan had even taken out a small vibrator and masturbated. She had shamelessly brought herself to a sinful orgasm right there in the confessional.

However, much to her surprise, when the privacy screen had slid back, it was not Father O’Connor who had been listening to her confession. The unfamiliar young face of Father Ben had watched Joan as she came down from her orgasm.

Of course Joan had been completely humiliated. But after talking with the new substitute priest for a little while, Father Ben had convinced Joan to keep her part-time job cooking and cleaning at the rectory – at least while Father O’Connor was still recovering in the hospital.

Her stomach flip-flopped as she heard the clicking of the deadbolt being unlocked. The door swung open and there was Father Ben. “Nice to see you again Joan. Come on in,” he warmly greeted her.

“Thanks Father,” Joan said shyly. She still could not forget the incident in the confessional. She crossed the threshold and entered the rectory.

Father Ben must have had the airconditioning turned up rather high. Joan shivered. With it being almost summer, she had not bothered to bring a sweater or a jacket. She began to get goosebumps on her arms. But what concerned her more was that she could feel her nipples becoming erect under her blouse. The material of her bra was thin and flimsy. She hoped Father Ben would not notice.

“I’m really glad that you decided not to quit this job,” said Father Ben as they entered the kitchen.

“Thanks for not firing me after … you know … what I did earlier today,” Joan mumbled sheepishly as she lowered her gaze. “I can’t believe you still want me to work for you.”

“We all make mistakes,” Father Ben said benevolently. “I very much believe in second chances.” He took a step toward Joan, reached over and placed his hand on her upper arm. “I mean, I would have appreciated it if someone had given me more second chances when I was younger.”

Not expecting the sudden touch, Joan took an instinctive and awkward step backwards. As she did this, she clumsily bumped into the kitchen table. As it wobbled on its uneven legs, an apple tumbled down. It had been on top of a pile of fruit in a wooden bowl. The apple rolled across the table toward them.

“Look at that, an appetizer,” Father Ben joked as he picked up the red piece of fruit and handed it to the flustered teenager. He then reached across the table and grabbed a peach for himself.

“Oh … no …” Joan stammered.

“What, you don’t like apples? Would you like a banana instead.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just … I don’t eat here. I normally just come in, cook Father O’Connor his dinner, do some housework and then leave. My mother usually has a plate waiting for me in the refrigerator when I get home.”

“So you eat a cold dinner every night?” Father O’Conner bit into the peach. Joan watched as a little bit of juice dribbled down his chin.

“I mean, on the evenings that I work here, yeah. I’ll have a cold dinner later on at home.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to join me for dinner if you’d like. I don’t know about you, but I don’t particularly like to eat alone.” He took another bite out of the peach. He sucked up the juice that was dripping out of the flesh of the fruit. “And I’m certainly not going to finish that entire bowl of fruit.” He pointed toward the kitchen table. “So you may as well help yourself.” He looked down at the apple that she was holding.

“Thanks Father.” Joan took a hesitant bite out of the apple. It was sweet and crisp. Father Ben watched her as she swallowed. “Mm, it’s really good.” She took another bite.

The young priest smiled at her. “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” It was a lame and cliched proverb. But when Father Ben said it, Joan could not help but giggle a little.

What’s wrong with me, she silently chastised herself. He’s a priest for christ’s sake. He’s not flirting with me, she firmly told herself.

“So Father, what do you want me to make you for dinner?” Joan made her way across the kitchen and swung open the door of the refrigerator. She took another bite out of the ruby red fruit.

“I just arrived here this morning. I don’t even know what ingredients I have.” Father Ben stood behind Joan and looked over her shoulder into the refrigerator.

“Well, there’s some shrimp. And lots of veggies. I could cook a stir fry … I guess.”

“You don’t sound too enthusiastic about that,” Father Ben observed as he sucked the last bit of flesh off of the peach pit. He tossed the large seed into Kadıköy Escort a trash bin next to the counter.

“Honestly Father, cooking isn’t exactly my favorite thing to do. But it’s my job,” Joan stated matter-of-factly.

“If you don’t like cooking, then how are you planning on feeding yourself when you move out of your mother’s house?”

“Order take out …” Joan reluctantly admitted.

“And is that what you would prefer to do right now?” he asked with mock sternness. “Order take out?”

“Yeah …” Joan scrunched up her nose as she guiltily cringed.

Father Ben let out a loud long laugh. He shook his head, but he was obviously amused by Joan’s candor. “And what exactly is your favorite take out? What’s your vice?”

“Pizza.”

“And would you like to order us some pizza for tonight?”

“Yes please,” Joan nodded. However, she then said, “But it’s my job to come here and cook.”

“It’s up to you,” Father Ben said. “You can either cook us a stir fry or order us a pizza. I’ll let you make that choice.”

“Pizza!” Joan tossed her apple core into the garbage and then grabbed the receiver of the phone hanging on the kitchen wall.

Father Ben pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, flipped it open and slid out a credit card. He handed it to Joan. “When the pizza gets here, you can pay for it with this.”

“Sure, thanks.” Joan dialed the number for the nearest pizzeria. She then glanced down at the lettering printed on the card. “Hey, isn’t this Father O’Connor’s credit card?”

“Yeah. Because I’m taking care of his parish for him, I’m putting all expenses on his card. The diocese will reimburse him when he gets out of the hospital.”

“Oh … okay.” That’s a rather odd explanation, Joan mused. But she did not ask anymore questions on the subject. As the employee of the pizzeria picked up, Joan turned to Father Ben and asked, “Hey, what do you want on your pizza?”

“Ham and pineapple.”

“Ugh, that’s vile!” Joan exclaimed.

“Just tell them to put it on half of the pizza. On the other half, get whatever you want.” Once again, Father Ben shook his head at Joan’s silly behavior.

As Joan relayed their order over the phone, Father Ben reached up and opened a cabinet above the sink. He pulled out two glasses. He then opened up a tall narrow cupboard next to the refrigerator and retrieved a decanter of wine. He poured himself a glass.

“And what would you like to drink this evening, Miss Hubert?” he asked as Joan hung up the phone.

“Are you asking me what would I actually LIKE to drink? Or are you asking me what I SHOULD be drinking?” She placed a hand on her hip, narrowed her eyes and gave him a cynical look.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m only eighteen. You know I’m not legally old enough to drink alcohol.”

“Yes, I am well aware of that fact. But I also know what kind of antics you teenagers get up to. Don’t let the costume fool you.” He gestured at the clerical collar situated around his neck. “Believe it or not, I used to be quite rebellious in my youth.”

Joan smirked at the idea of the young priest actually doing anything disobedient or forbidden. But then again, he was offering her alcohol.

“And I find it really hard to believe that an eighteen year old girl – whose willing to touch herself in a confessional – has never had a drink before in her life.”

Joan blushed and looked down as she was reminded of her earlier behavior. “I do like wine coolers,” she confessed. “My friends and I usually drink them at parties. But I don’t normally drink actual wine.”

“Wine is an acquired taste. You can try a glass if you’d like. But it’s totally up to you. You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to. I think I saw some milk and juice in the refrigerator.”

“No,” Joan said quickly. “I’ll have a glass of wine.”

Father Ben seemed to smile approvingly as he picked up the bottle and poured the burgundy fluid into the second glass. He handed it to Joan.

Before taking a sip, she asked, “Isn’t this a sin?”

“Why? All over the world, the legal drinking age is eighteen in most countries.” He swirled the contents of the glass and inhaled the scent.

“But not in this country,” Joan pointed out.

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t,” he whispered.

“It’s a deal,” Joan laughed as they clinked glasses.

She took a sip. The taste was a little strong, but not unpleasant.

“Normally I would drink a wine that’s more dry.” Father Ben took a sip. “But I figured that a teenage girl would prefer something a little more on the sweet side.” Suddenly the doorbell rang. “Would you mind getting that, Joan? That must be our pizza.”

Joan paid for the pizza with Father O’Connor’s credit card. She made sure to give a generous tip to the delivery boy and returned to the kitchen.

Father Ben had begun to set the table in the dining room. She noticed that he had not put their place settings across the table from one another. Kadıköy Escort Bayan Rather, they were adjacent to each other perpendicularly at the corner of the table. So that, when seated, Joan and Father Ben would more or less be sitting side by side at a right angle.

As she entered the dining room, Father Ben smiled at her and sat down at the head of the table. Joan put their pizza down a few inches from their plates and glasses. She took her seat to the left of Father Ben.

Father Ben opened the cardboard box. Heat, steam and an enticing salty smell wafted out. He began to reach for a slice.

“Uh … shouldn’t you say grace first, Father?” she reminded him.

“Of course,” Father Ben smiled. “I was just testing you,” he quipped as he clasped his hands, closed his eyes and bent his head. “Heavenly Father, for what we are about to receive, we are truly grateful. Amen.” He then made the sign of the cross.

“Good job, Father. Real original,” Joan said dryly as she rolled her eyes.

“Do you think you could do better?” he challenged.

Joan brought her hands together and boisterously recited, “Rub-a-dub-dub! Thanks for the grub!” She then rubbed her palms together and said, “Let’s eat!”

“And you think THAT was original?” Father Ben looked unimpressed. “I remember watching Bart Simpson say that particular ‘blessing’ years ago. That Simpsons episode probably first aired before you were even born. That’s how old that joke is.”

“So?” she irreverently shot back. “I still can’t believe you like these toppings. I mean, what kind of a sociopath likes pineapple on their pizza?” Joan teased as she grabbed a slice from her side of the pie.

“And what did you order? Plain cheese and pepperoni? I would have expected something far more adventurous from a girl like you. Mushrooms, green peppers, maybe some black olives …”

“Black olives? Ew!” Joan made a disgusted face as she bit into her slice.

“Maybe some spicy Italian sausage. You know, you shouldn’t turn your nose up at trying new things,” Father Ben lectured.

“But I am trying new things.” She gave him a cheeky grin as she picked up her glass of wine and took a big gulp.

“Hey, take it easy! I can’t get you drunk and then send you back to your mother’s house.”

Taking another swig, she looked over the rim of her glass at Father Ben. “What if I didn’t go back to my mother’s house tonight?” Then, taking a deep breath, she asked, “What if I spent the night … here?”

Father Ben momentarily put down his pizza and wiped his greasy fingers on a napkin. He turned to his left to look at her. “And why on earth would you want to spend the night at the rectory, Joan?”

Joan silently shrugged her shoulders. She drank more of her wine until her glass was empty. She set it down. Father Ben promptly refilled it. Joan did not object.

“Father, did you ever have any girlfriends before you decided to become a priest?”

Father Ben laughed sheepishly as he looked down. “Yes, a few.”

Joan took another sip. She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. “So … you’re not a virgin then?”

“Oh my goodness, Joan!” he said incredulously. But then letting out a heavy sigh, he answered, “No, I’m not a virgin.”

“But isn’t that a sin?”

“I wasn’t a priest at that time.”

“But isn’t premarital sex a sin?” she countered.

“Where in the bible does it say that premarital sex is a sin? Please, take out your bible and show me.”

“I don’t read the bible. You know I’m an atheist,” Joan retorted. Then, in her tipsy state, a funny thought occurred to her. “Isn’t it ironic?”

“What’s ironic?”

“You’re a Catholic priest. But you’ve been sexually active with multiple women. And I’m an atheist. But I’m a virg…” Suddenly Joan stopped herself as she realized what she was saying. She immediately clamped her mouth shut as a blush began to creep across her cheeks.

“You’re a what?”

“Nothing!”

“No, what were you going to say, Joan? You’re an atheist, but you’re also a … what?” Father Ben picked up his glass and took in a long leisurely mouthful of wine. He let the liquid linger in his mouth, bathing his tongue, before finally swallowing it.

“No, nothing. It’s not important,” Joan mumbled as she looked down at her plate.

Father Ben raised a mischievous left eyebrow and smiled at her. “Were you going to say that you’re a … virgin?”

“Yeah,” Joan whispered.

“And is that something to be embarrassed about?”

“Yes!” Joan blurted out. “I’m eighteen. It’s super embarrassing!”

“Why?”

“Well, it’s not like I’m saving myself for marriage. I’m not religious or anything.” Distressed, Joan twisted a napkin between her fingers. “I’m going off to college in the fall. I don’t want to be a virgin when I start college.”

“Joan, there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin while you’re a college student. Frankly, I think it’s kind of nice that you’re still a virgin.”

“You Escort Kadıköy would,” Joan said bitterly.

“I just really like the fact that, despite the bad girl image you try to portray, there’s still a sweet innocence about you. You try to act naughty, but you’re still uncorrupted.”

“Ugh! Make me gag!” Joan took a large drink of her wine. “That’s the lamest corniest thing that I’ve ever heard.”

“It might be lame,” Father Ben conceded. “But I’m glad that you’re still a good girl at heart.” Then he jokingly added, “Pure and unsullied.” He spoke in a mock voice, meant to sound high class and pretentious.

“Ew, stop it!” Joan squealed in disgust. She slapped him across his arm as she protested, “That’s so gross!”

In jest, Father Ben lightly hit her back as he laughed, “I’m just surprised and impressed that your virtue is still intact.”

“Stop talking about my ‘virtue!'” Joan drunkenly giggled as she grabbed the sleeve of his black shirt. She tried to get in a harmless playful punch. He grabbed her wrists and jerked her toward him. Joan squirmed, trying to get away. But the more she struggled, the tighter his grip became. He pulled her nearer to him. Joan looked up at his face. He looked down at her and grinned.

Maybe it was all the wine. Maybe it was Joan’s rebellious streak. Maybe it was how taboo the whole situation was. But for whatever reason, Joan tilted her face up toward Father Ben’s. She boldly kissed him on the mouth.

Father Ben did not immediately kiss her back. But neither did he pull away. He remained still as Joan pressed her lips to his. She sensed his lips slowly parting. So she slipped her tongue into his mouth. Right away she could feel his tongue wrap around hers,. It slid back and forth against her soft sensory organ.

Father Ben let go of Joan’s wrists and placed his hands around her waist, pulling her tightly against himself. Joan put her left hand against his chest. Her right hand made it’s way over his shoulder and came to rest on the back of his neck.

The next thing she knew, his tongue was now invading her mouth. He aggressively plundered her warm wet orifice. His hands made their way down to her hips and his fingers dug into the flesh of her curves. He kissed her harder. The stubble on his chin scratched the sensitive skin of her face. His tongue was roughly thrusting deeper into her mouth toward her throat.

She could not breath. She tried to pull away to get some air. But he would not let her go. He pulled her closer. She placed her hands against his upper chest to try to push him away. She pushed with all of her might. Suddenly, he sharply bit her lower lip.

“Ow!” Joan cried. “That hurts! You’re too rough!”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he panted.

“No! Not like this!” Joan exclaimed.

Father Ben let go of her and Joan shifted away from him on her seat. She needed a moment to collect her thoughts. Her feelings of arousal and the copious amounts of wine had clouded her head. She looked up at young clergyman.

“You’re a priest! You’re not supposed to do things like that!”

“Joan, you kissed me,” Father Ben pointed out.

“Yeah, but aren’t you supposed to reject my advances? Didn’t you take vows of celibacy?”

Father Ben sat back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. His whole demeanor seemed to change. Just a moment ago he seemed so confident and aggressive. But now he appeared to be apologetic and nonthreatening. He looked almost contrite.

“Yes, you’re absolutely right. I’m so sorry Joan, please forgive me! You’re a very attractive young woman. Getting so much attention from a beautiful girl like you, I couldn’t help it. I guess I had a moment of weakness.” He lifted his glass to his lips and drank a little more wine.

Joan was silent for a moment. She was struck by Father Ben’s words. “A very attractive young woman?” “A beautiful girl?” Was that true? Did he really think that about her?

While Joan certainly did not think of herself as ugly, she had never considered herself to be a raving beauty. She was not exactly unhappy with her appearance. But she had always considered herself to be rather plain looking. She did not get a ton of attention from the boys at school. And she had never really had a real boyfriend before.

But now, here in front of her was an objectively handsome grown adult man telling her that she was beautiful. Maybe he had been celibate for far too long. Maybe he was at the point where any female would have seemed appealing.

“You’re really attracted to me?” she asked with a hint of skepticism.

“Of course! What man wouldn’t be?” he said softly as he smiled at her.

“I’m attracted to you, too,” Joan shyly admitted. She moved closer to him and placed a hand on his thigh. “You’re right, Father Ben. This IS what I want. But could we maybe just take things a little slower? And could you be a bit more gentle? I realize it’s probably been quite some time since you’ve been with a woman. Just don’t be so rough this time.” She closed her eyes and leaned toward him for a kiss.

Father Ben put his hands on her shoulders, preventing her from coming any nearer. “Joan, I’m afraid that we both may have gotten caught up in the moment. I think it’s best if I take you home now.” He gave her shoulders an affectionate squeeze.

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