In the Closet Ch. 10

All characters are at least 18 years old.

——

Zach

Sunday mass was boring as usual, unless I got creative. I was sat between Keith and mom, heart thundering in my chest because of what I had planned. This was definitely crossing a line, right? But crossing lines was exactly what made it hot. I was going to hell for sure.

I clutched my stomach and groaned, catching mom’s attention. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“Stomach really hurts,” I muttered.

Mom reached around me and tapped Keith on the shoulder. “Keith, can you take your brother to the restroom? He’s not feeling well.”

He nodded and took me by the elbow, and I picked up my backpack and let him lead me out of the nave. Before we could reach the restrooms, however, I pulled him into the confessional booth, slipping behind the red curtain.

“What the hell? I thought–” he protested.

“Nobody will disturb us during the service,” I replied, reaching into my backpack and pulling out my wig. It was a tight fit in the booth, but we could still reasonably manage. Keith was still confused when I put my wig on, but his eyes bulged when I started unbuttoning my shirt.

“Zach… What the fuck are you doing?” His question seemed to die in his throat as I dropped my trousers and kicked them into the corner. Underneath my church clothes, I was wearing a light pink bikini. Not just any bikini, but one of those super small ones with very little coverage. A microkini, where my nipples were only just covered in fabric and my soft little dick was spilling out the side.

“Sinning,” I whispered, turning around and spreading my ass for him, pulling my bikini bottom to the right.

I heard a zip and some shuffling, and his hands started at my chest, palming my puffy nipples and massaging them with the heels of his hands. I gasped and tried not to move under his touch, simply holding myself open while he explored me. Before moving down my body, his fingers drew a few rings around my nipples, and then they were cupping around my waist. His voice was deep and rumbly and manly as his thumbs worked the soft flesh there, and it made me wonder when I started liking when his voice got like that. Then with practiced accuracy he spat on me, right on the asshole, before he took hold of my hips and pulled me against him. The saliva made his swollen manhood glide between my cheeks with ease, and I whimpered weakly.

As he slid back and forth, I found myself wanting him to just hurry up and take me, and I realized I was turning into a slut for him. I was expecting to feel shame, but all I got was horny. My erection, which didn’t seem that much bigger than when I was soft anymore, went limp as soon as I felt his tip against my anus. He began pushing inside me, and an erotic groan grew from my throat long before his crown finally popped in. I moaned with abandon as he stretched me, almost as if he was easing my tiny body onto his cock like a toy. I could tell how much he wanted me by how he was throbbing, his girth stretching me painfully wider intermittently, but he treated me with such care and slowness as he gently filled me with his meat that it was hard not to be in love with him. He knew he was hurting me and was doing everything he could to minimize it, and my growing feminine side was falling head over heels for it.

Finally bottoming out in me, I reached down and held my pelvis, feeling the slight bump of his length as it distended my body. “Ugh, Zoey…” he grunted. Heh, he still needed to think of me as Zoey during sex. I admit that I wasn’t thrilled that he couldn’t accept me as I was, but after all the thought he’d put into making me feel like a guy again yesterday, it was something I could live with. Especially if I got to keep enjoying this baseball bat of his.

He started moving, and neither of us could keep silent as he fucked me. I could feel his sex hitting the first bend in my guts, as if he could straighten them out given enough time. That impossibility was still incredibly sexy, and when I reached back to pull him closer in the hopes of achieving that, he grabbed both my wrists and began using them to pull me onto him as he increased speed.

“Oh, God,” I slurred, my vision blurring as my eyes crossed.

Leaning down to me, he murmured into my ear, “God has forsaken us, baby. Look where we are. We’re both going to hell, and my cock will be your eternal torment.”

Thank you, God.

I tried to say that was a damnation I would dream about, but all that came out was unintelligible gibberish and some drool as I lost my faculties to sodomy. My limp clitty was trickling a clear string of precum as it flapped about while he fucked me. I was losing my ability to get hard, but I didn’t care anymore. It was a useless part of me anyway. If it didn’t contribute to Keith’s pleasure, it was irrelevant. All that mattered was my boi pussy and my throat could fit all his manliness inside.

“Zoey, I’m cumming,” he groaned. He hadn’t used a condom this time. He was fucking my boi pussy raw, and watery semen oozed out of my clitty as he flooded my guts with his thick seed. I knew what his output was, and I could feel it as he saturated my insides with his superior genes. Searing heat spread through my belly, and he wrapped both his hands around my throat to keep me from screaming. I was so useless he couldn’t even use me to breed. This was how a real man fucked, and I needed him to demonstrate it over and over again.

The window to the next booth slid open and my heart stopped. There was a priest sitting right next to us. On instinct, Keith let go of me, letting me clear my throat. What were we supposed to do?! Keith was still inside me, still hard, and showing no signs of softening or pulling out. The only saving grace was that the priest was Father Matthew, who was incredibly old and had failing eyesight. Had it been anybody else, they would have seen us through the lattice and we would’ve been screwed.

After a lengthy silence of me panicking, Father Matthew spoke up. “What’s troubling you, my child?” he asked, voice dry and brittle.

“Um…” Acutely aware that Keith was still in my ass, I tried to shakily forge on. “Bless me, Father… for I have sinned.” Keith throbbed in me, making me hiss. “My last confession… was six months ago.”

Father Matthew nodded for me to continue, and continue Keith did, clasping my hips and beginning to thrust again, albeit slower to avoid making as much noise. I pressed my hand to my mouth to keep from moaning, clenching my teeth hard. I swear I could feel his cum moving around in my belly.

“I’ve… I’ve committed the sin of lust,” I managed. “It feels like… all my actions now have been… driven by desire.”

“Sins of the flesh are not unnatural. How grave do you view your particular situation?” Father Matthew prompted.

“I feel like… I’m losing myself,” I continued. This seemed to give Keith pause, making his rhythm slow to a crawl as he seemed to contemplate things along with me. “I recently hurt both a close friend and myself because of it. And now I think I’m dragging somebody I love into sin with me.” I took a deep breath, and Father Matthew made a sound of contemplation. Keith gently pulled me upright, turning my head so I could see him. He looked at me enigmatically for a moment before planting a quick peck on my forehead.

“It seems to me that you care about these people dearly,” Father Matthew concluded. Keith bent me back over and started pumping into me again, and I gulped back a moan. “To show such concern and… guilt over your actions, I’d say that speaks more to your capacity for love than to your sin. Yes, fornication or the like are frowned upon, but nothing that can’t be forgiven. And if I may share my own thoughts on the matter… Where there is love, there is God’s grace.”

“I… understand, Father,” I panted. If Keith went any harder, the priest would hear the wet slapping of fornication not a foot away from him. Instead I was receiving half-strokes, which was still good but also frustrating. Only taking him to the base was gratifying, and I craved it. “Then there’s… ugh, nothing else. I’m sorry for these and all my sins.” Keith was holding my waist now, and his fingers dug into me as he let out a quiet hiss before latching his mouth onto the hollow of my neck.

“Then I suppose saying three Our Fathers will suffice,” Father Matthew instructed. “Please proceed with the Act of Contrition.”

Praying while getting fucked in the ass by my brother. I really had no shame at all, did I? “My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart,” I began.

Keith was being more bold and thrusting in all the way now, rocking his hips in a way that avoided the slap of our pelvises. Father Matthew seemed to tilt his head ever so slightly, but said nothing as I worked my way through the prayer while Keith turned me inside out. He was becoming more fervent, and I could feel his cock pulsing again.

“In his name, my God, have mercy,” I finished. A jet of warmth blossomed in my belly, as well as a feeling of fullness, and I realized with Keith’s swelling member that he was cumming in me again. “Ah!” I cried out, my eyes rolling back as I shivered with delight. I was so full that I kind of wished I looked bloated afterwards. “…m-men,” I mumbled.

Keith licked me before he stopped sucking on my neck, slowly pulling out of me. It took everything I had to clamp my ass shut and stay silent when he vacated me, and he managed to slip out without Father Matthew noticing.

The rest of the confessional was a blur, and I only remember Father Matthew saying something about it being uncommon to take confessional during the service, and telling me to hurry back before leaving himself. My legs were shaky as I did a half-squat, finally alone. With a wet squelch, globs of cum began pushing themselves out of my ass, and I moaned as I soiled the booth with my brother’s cream. In my delirium and rapture, I had to scoop all my stuff off the floor before the jism got to them. God, there wasn’t a single clean spot left.