I stepped into the old stone church just as the sun was setting. The air was cool and smelled of incense and polished wood. At twenty four years old I had always been a sinful girl. I loved s*x too much. I loved the thrill of being bad. Tonight I was here for confession, but not the kind that would save my soul. I wanted to be corrupted.
I walked toward the confession booth, my heart beating fast. My short sundress barely reached mid-thigh and my breasts strained against the thin fabric. I wasn’t wearing any bra or panties and every step I took made the cool air kiss my bare, already wet p***y. My n*****s were hard and pressing against the dress as I walked slowly down the aisle toward the confession booths.
I chose the very last booth on the right, the most private one, tucked away in a
